It’s interesting how a writer can on occasion transcend their own moment or place and create a sense of timelessness. The words on the page focus you in the moment and enthrall the reader. It’s a form of magic. This week I picked up The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. I haven’t read this book in about 10 years and I am thoroughly enjoying it. As an astronomer one passage was quite striking. Huck and Jim are adrift on the raft going down the Mississippi River and Twain captures the sense of wonder we so often feel when we look up at the night sky.

Twain wrote: Sometimes we’d have the whole river to ourselves for a long time. The riverbanks and the islands would all be far off in the distance. Sometimes you’d see a spark of light, which would be a candle in a cabin window. Or sometimes you’d see a spark or two on the water as a raft or scow or something passed by. Every now and then you’d hear the sounds of a fiddle or a song drifting out across the water from another boat. Then there was the sky, all speckled with stars. We used to lie on our backs and look up at them and discuss whether they were created or just came into being on their own. Jim thought they’d been made, but I thought they’d just happened. I figured it would have taken too long to make so many. Jim said the moon could have laid them like a chicken lays eggs. That sounded reasonable, so I didn’t argue with him. I’ve seen a frog lay a lot of eggs, so I knew it could be done. We used to watch the falling stars, too, as they streaked down. Jim thought they were falling because they’d spoiled and were being thrown out of the nest. It sure was nice to live on a raft. [Bantam Classics Edition, p115]

I’ve sat in observatories on many a night and shared such moments with other astronomers. And like Jim and Huck we too speculate about the nature of it all. May life always be good on this little raft called Earth.

 

 

(Note: photo by Mikkel Jensen at 500px.com)

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