25 November 2023 (needle ice)

needle ice —

the moon and Jupiter

align

3 December 2022 (bare branches)

bare branches . . .

the moon and Jupiter

from our kitchen

6 November 2022 (space)

space between us . . .

you text me Jupiter

alongside the moon

22 December 2020 (planets)

midwinter

even the planets

move closer together

27 February 2020 (conjunction)

six degrees

of separation

the moon and Venus

28 December 2019 (conjunction)

tonight’s lurid tale

the young moon and Venus

in conjunction

July 20: Conjunction

summer night
conjunction
the moon Jupiter 

October 24: Closer

Venus, Jupiter, and Mars move ever closer together in the pre-dawn hours. This morning, right out my front door, so bright, I wanted to keep staring and staring until they dimmed with the sunrise.

 

Above: three planets.

Below: wild turkeys feeding

in a misty field.

Posted with Blogsy

March 9: Conjunction

After a class on relics at the Jung Center of Maine and dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant, thinking of vestiges of the ancient world still with us, like reminders of the classic Greek and Roman gods and goddesses.

 

Through willow's arching boughs,

the Moon and Jupiter

come close but don't touch.

Posted with Blogsy

March 21: Perfect sunset

Someone told me a very funny story at the end of a reception on this sultry evening, so I left in high spirits, open to joy. I was wearing flip-flops on this second day of spring. Jupiter and Venus hung together, bright above the red glow of sunset. In the field next to where my car was parked, I could hear the twittering of displaying male woodcocks. I stood by the field for several minutes listening. Off to the east I could see red Mars: a planet trifecta. When a bird landed, in the pause between aerial displays he sat in the field for awhile calling "peent, peent" loudly enough to hear over my car engine. Spring magic.

Vernal conjunctions:
three planets, several woodcocks,
and me, observing.

January 26: Conjunction

Last night as I left work the waxing crescent moon was upturned to catch bright Venus hovering just above. The pairing of two such distinctive and radiant heavenly bodies was striking. I can easily imagine how such a conjunction might have inspired a story or two back in the days when both were associated with deities. Was the goddess of love sparring with the moon goddess over a mortal love interest? Were they conspiring together on some celestial plot?

Lofty mythology aside, the image that came to me when I first noticed them was of that cup and ball game we had when we were kids, the one where you had to catch a ball in a wooden cup that you held by a handle. I imagined Venus having bounced off the curved edge of the moon into outer space, now on her rebound. Will the moon catch her? Or will she go slipping past into the dark, fringed edge of trees and out of sight?

Moon and Venus close
enough to spark ideas
in the cold night sky.