We live in what could be termed a low technology impact area.
Yes our hamlet of 7 houses has a proud 1970's orange sodium streetlamp clinging to a wooden pole shared with telecommunications and a woodpecker that seems to like treated wood ! The lackadasical appearance is added to by the 10 degree list. But retreat to the rear garden and there is very little in the way of light pollution (a smudge on the horizon that is Bourne 6 miles away).
This means that to the ill trained eye of the ex townie the sky takes on a horrifyingly paranoid splendor on cloudless nights. Jupiter rises to the east and our little telescope enables two moons to just be discerned (those 2 dots of Europa and Io were enough to stir excitement out of all proportion to the achievement). Turn to the SSW in the early evening and Venus tries to burn out the retina. Look above, the milky way can just be seen with the naked eye. Using the scope however, big mistake, infinity beckons. No wonder Patrick Moore always seemed a little deranged, it could unhinge the best of us.
On a calm mid evening in December; between gales, as the dew point lowers gently and the frost begins to crisp the first blades of grass, this stargazing is accompanied by the foxes for miles around coughing their location (like escaped Beagles from a scientific station) owls performing triangulation with each other, the pewit versus twoo as different species spell it out for each other.
Yesterday evening however had the best sound at last light, never before heard outside of BBC Sound Effect record #6 side B track 15 - cry of eagle on moor. I'm truly home.
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