October Night Sky

I thought I would share this photo. These dark October nights have had me looking at the stars everytime I go to the outhouse.if it’s not raining. The stars are not really visible in my shot, but I started do some research for this and what stars are showing at the moment in our sky. I do hope the facts are mostly correct. If not just take it as a tale of stars.

• The Summer Triangle: The triangle, which shone high in the early evening, has clearly shifted toward the west and northwest. Of its stars, Vega in Lyra and Deneb in Cygnus appear bright on the western and northwestern horizon. The third star of the triangle, Altair in Aquila, is already lower in the southwest.
• Cygnus (The Swan): This large “Northern Cross” spreads out spectacularly across the western sky before sinking lower.
• Hercules: Below Cygnus and Lyra, closer to the northwestern horizon, the constellation of Hercules is visible.

Otava has always fascinated me. I first learned that it is a ladle-shaped asterism formed by the seven most visible stars of the Ursa Major constellation, and I remember trying to trace that shape in the sky with my own eyes. As I read more, I began to understand why, for northern peoples, Otava was one of the most important, if not the most important, constellations in the sky. When I came across the fact that ancient Greek astronomy later became the basis for an international, advanced astronomical standard, it made sense that Otava eventually came to be regarded merely as an asterism that is part of Ursa Major. Still, I was struck by how many peoples have held on to the special status of Otava in their language and culture. I was especially drawn to what this star pattern means to Finns. They named it after an open fish weir called “otava,” and I started to see how deeply it is woven into Finnish tradition. Otava (“otavainen”) is also mentioned in Kalevala and Kanteletar. In the Kalevala, a wife is urged to go out into the yard to “learn from Otava” so that she would better understand the passage of time. That image stayed with me, as if the sky itself were a kind of slow, patient teacher. I learned that other names for the stars include the Seven-Starred and the Stars of Hope, and I loved the idea that Lemminkäinen sent bees between the stars to fetch a remedy for his healing salve.

As I kept digging, I realized that this same familiar pattern appears under many different names around the world, each revealing how people have related to the night sky. Names used by other peoples for the Big Dipper include: people of northern England: Butcher’s Cleaver; the Irish: Starry Plough; the British and Irish: Plough, Charles’ Wain (an older form: Carlswæn); the Scandinavians: Karlavagnen, Karlsvogna or Karlsvognen (Charles’s Wain; Karl = churl = man); the Germans: Großer Wagen (the Great Wagon); the Slavs: Great Wagon; the Russians: Ladle; the Americans: Big Dipper (the great ladle); the French: Chariot (the chariot), Casserole (the cooking pot). The more I learned these names, the more I felt that, by following Otava across the sky, I was quietly tracing a shared human story written in stars.

For Johns CellPic Sunday