These articles can be about anything and are written by freelance writers. Please feel free to participate by sending your articles to snobunting@hotmail.com
What To Write About?
By Mike LushingtonI am always pleased when someone mentions that he or she reads my column regularly - and all the more so if they should happen to indicate that they enjoy it. However, I pay closer attention should they say what they enjoy most. Some people seem to like my opinion pieces - whether they be on the current state of the English Language (which was the last such at the time of this writing), or on something else that has gotten me riled. But, on the whole, more people express appreciation for the simple pieces that I write - those that describe my ramblings in my "back forty" and beyond.
I confess that those are the pieces that I enjoy writing the most. They were the impetus behind the column in the first place, all those many years ago when I first started to scribble. At times, I seem to wander away from this theme, in part, I think, because I fear that I am going to become obnoxiously or tediously repetitive,, and partly because there will sometimes be a spate of interesting and provocative topics for me to tackle. After such a run, though, it is a simple relief to return to musing over some simple sighting or experience that I have had "out there."
I feel fortunate in being able to live in a beautiful part of the world and in having the health to be able to get out and enjoy it at its best. On a couple of nights a week ago, my owling buddy, Jim Clifford, and I were back up on Route 180, up around Mount Carleton Park. Both were gorgeous, black nights. Neither was particularly cold and as the night unfolded and the back-country traffic subsided, we were left to contemplate the skies while listening for any owls that might be provoked into responding to our taped calls. On one stop, I counted four satellites within five minutes. Two of them were bright enough to be seen easily, but the other two were much dimmer and I realized that they would be just about invisible to the naked eye except under perfect viewing conditions. And we were enjoying those perfect conditions.
As we wrapped up that particular stop, one of us wondered just how many people in North America had ever seen a sky such as the one were were looking at. You have to get away from all lights (including the moon), and the atmosphere has to be completely clear. That combination is a rare one for the vast majority of people in this modern world, and, as I stood there trying to take it all in, I found it sad that so few of them even realize it. Then I realized that the four satellites that I had seen were things of curiosity, but the span of the sky, with so many stars that even the major constellations were masked in sheer brilliance, was a sight to inspire both awe and deep humility.
It was also, I realized, something about which I really did want to write.