A Starry View Nighthawk

Vol. 125, November 5th, 2024 Published a day early online

Reminder: there will be no Wednesday post this week out of respect for the expected frayed nerves of…well, everyone. We’ll be back to regular programming on Friday, as there will be much work to do, no matter what happens. I’m pleased and proud to have friends with such viewpoint diversity, and the time is coming soon for productive conversations and bridge building one way or the other. But on Wednesday, I’ll be keeping quiet as a public service. Reminds me of the time I was heckled playing street music, offered money to pipe down, but that’s another story…

Hoping, praying, and working for the peace of my fellow Americans this week, and always.

Keep Looking Up

If the Sun is a craftsman, late afternoon is quitting time. He dusted his hands, packed up his tools, and trudged west. The trees blazed a brilliant goodbye, sycamores turning yellow and brown by the water, my red car matching the vermilion of the occasional sugar maple on the ridge, rolling along the James River. I bid the Sun farewell, too, on my way to a “star party”. (It sounds cooler than “Nerds and their Telescopes”.) We all set up in a field, and waited. Saturn hopped onstage through the gathering twilight to open the show, whirling and twirling to the delight of the audience, lined up and looking through the many telescopes. The bright smile of a November sky to faded gently into a starry night.

The latest comet dazzled, a soloist in front of a Milky Way chorus, best viewed through opera glasses. We looked at the Andromeda galaxy, stately with the glow of a trillion stars too distant to resolve, and marveled at the Veil nebula: star guts strewn across space with the unfathomable energy of a supernova. From that rubble, new stars and planets will form. The elements in our bodies were once formed in the core of a star, locked away until a similar explosion.

Oh, to cast my eyes towards the beauty of the cosmos , and remember– It’s good to look up.

A portion of the Veil Nebula glitters in an eerie green as seen through a special night-vision electronic eyepiece attached to a 12.5” reflecting telescope at the James River Star Party.

Quote of the Week

“The World will never starve from want of wonders; but only for want of wonder.”

–G.K Chesterton

Voter Fraud!

Susan B. Anthony illegally votes for Grant on election day, 1872.

Carol’s Appalachian Word of the Week

Plumb (really). “You are driving me plumb crazy this morning!”

Editor’s note: Not to be confused with Plum Crazy, a flashy Mopar color.

Editor’s second note: Learn something new every day.

All Aboard!

The Virginia Scenic Railway is a modern classic, rolling through the Shenandoah valley’s fall splendor. Parent railroad Buckingham Branch’s locomotive is seen here at the Staunton station.

Photo: Kate Simon

Book of the Week

The Righteous Mind-Why Good People Are Divided By Politics and Religion (Jon Haidt)

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: A must-read if you’re feeling frustrated and confused by your fellow Americans. It changed my life and brought me great peace in realizing that my opposed neighbors aren’t my enemies.

Write to Us!

The Nighthawk is a new old-fashioned way to connect, published weekly. You’re invited to write back, or just enjoy reading. Let’s have some fun! It’s a social paper! Send stories, etc to: PO Box 783, Rustburg, VA 24588 or Joshurban@protonmail.com

Letters from Josh

(A weekly update from Josh Urban’s adventures on the farm and in the city. #210)

Appearing in the Altavista Journal, etc: Now What?

Howdy, folks, and welcome back to the show! Well, this doesn’t seem the day for remarks about autumn (but what a beautiful, vintage faded-photograph fall we’re having). I’m writing this a week before the day after election day, and don’t want to pull off a DEWEY DEFEATS TRUMAN fiasco. I’d also like to avoid politics. This column is about people. But looking forward a week into the future, and the only clear thing I see is that it’s all mashed together. It’ll be impossible to ignore.

Maybe we won’t know an outcome. Maybe something bad happens. Still, there’s something odd in newspaper ink. The fumes have gone to my head, and make me think I’m important. A little fresh air, and some heckling from the family fixes that. (Hold the snarky postcards, they’ve already got it covered.)

I’m sure we’ll all be glued to the TV. Fingers crossed that everything goes well. Yes, this is a pivotal moment in American politics, and perhaps the world. But still...I look out at the colors on the mountain, and remember that there’s more to things than what I think about them. Oh, I almost wrote an annoying piece on how to live, thinly disguised as a list of how I should live (but probably won’t). Baloney, man. There’s already a book on how to do what’s right, and it is Good. Read that if you feel lost. I’ll be looking at it lots. I’m sticking to simple ideas today.

I had the good fortune to DJ a school’s Halloween dance. Mario ran by, looking for Luigi, a toddler balanced unsteadily on hind legs, dressed as a puppy. A young cop patrolled, a hot dog wandered across the floor, and princesses held court next to Spiderman. What a gift to be here, to be alive, to get to help them with a future. And give ‘em some fun tunes to dance to. The event reminded me of the important things.

I’ve got two ideas I’m chewing on. At the risk of sounding like a sanctimonious punk, here they are: 1. I’m trying to work on my own little corner, in whatever way I can. That means being gracious to my friends in victory or defeat, and not abandoning my own principles, no matter what.

2. Remembering to watch this vintage photo-faded autumn we’re having. The TV will be there when I get back. The stars and the mountains and the birds singing down by the pond are worth my attention.

Here’s to hoping that everything works, with a minimum of wailing and teeth-gnashing. Let’s keep building that America that we’d like it to be, where kids can dance to the Monster Mash and run around in zombie suits. Here’s to building the “now what.”

That’s a sweeping thing to say, so I’ll break it down to the real. If you’re bummed out, drop a note. And if you’re happy, certainly do the same. I’m here to build bridges. It’s nice to be your neighbor, neighbor. Keep up the good work.

Catch you on the flip side,

Josh