The celestial ballet

Have you ever set a reminder so far ahead in time that it really, truly, becomes a reminder? I did just that around a year ago, when I created a calendar alert for "good views of venus". I'd taken some photos of the moon and venus, but it was a little cloudy. I looked up when venus would next be so visible in this part of the world, and the internet told me "Dec 5th 2013". I made a reminder in the calendar application on my computer, and forgot about it until 4:30pm this afternoon, when my phone reminded me. I quickly grabbed my RX1 (a focal length of 35mm is not usually considered ideal for taking a photograph of the moon) and made my way to the stairs at the end of my building. I often take photos from this position, but rarely after sunset. The sun had just gone down, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky - just perfect colours. I watched venus and the moon perform their annual celestial ballet, as Tokyo descended into darkness.

The River of Heaven

It's essentially impossible to see the Milky Way from Tokyo, due to the huge levels of light pollution.  Only when we venture far from our man-made distractions of flashing lights can we really appreciate how insignificant we are in the contexts of the universe.

This is a relatively recent dilemma. Years ago, before electricity, it would be common for people to look at the stars from their villages and towns, question the meaning of life (or perhaps simply pray to the current popular deity). These days, it's so rare to see the stars and the milky way, that I wonder if the number of people questioning the meaning of life, or their place in the universe is going up or down. On any given evening, it's hard to find someone not looking into their smartphone screen, rather than upwards into infinity.

The title of this post The River of Heaven, was chosen from the direct translation from Japanese 天の川, and was brought to you on Autumnal Equinox Day (秋分の日 Shūbun no Hi); a public holiday in Japan that usually occurs on September 22 or 23.