A Minor Epiphany

Searching in the sky one night, while looking for the moon
I viewed a mighty light approaching in a zoom
Need was there to tell someone of my discovery
Fifteen seconds later, a light appeared in front of me
To my surprise, there stood a man with age and mystery
His name was Jupiter and came to visit me

Earth Wind and Fire

Two things happened today of note: first I listened to Melvyn Bragg debate What's The Value of Culture Today? this morning on Radio 4; and second I went out in the back garden after dark to fill the coal bucket.

In the first event, a quote from Matthew Arnold 1869 essay Culture and Anarchy, recommended "culture as the great help out of our present difficulties". Someone also said that science couldn't explain love and art like culture. These notions got me thinking. Always dangerous, that.

In the second event, looking up from our back garden, I spotted what I thought was a plane from Manchester Airport. Except this light didn't move. There were other dim stars visible, but this in the east sky (I double-checked this on my iPhone compass) was by far the brightest. I decided to photo it and to check it online. According to Astronomy Central, it was god of the sky, Jupiter.

Two days before Epiphany it seems apt that I should have achieved a scientific first for me in spotting my first planet or Star of the East (or at least I think I did - can anyone out there verify please?).

I am completely hopeless at night sky watching and can only just about make out Orion's Belt and The Plough on a clear night. This is totally inexcusable given I sail overnight occassionally and have an interest in sea navigation; live within 5 miles of Jodrell Bank Radio Telescope (I once went with school in 1970 to it's Planetarium, and havn't been since); and have in the house a BBC2 / Open University Stargazing Live Guide for 2012, picked up for free this time last year, and never browsed once since. How shamefull is that? I feel like an alcoholic at AA 'coming out'.

Postscript: The black line almost slicing through Jupiter by the way, is our redundant O2 telephone land-line.