The story I eventually told myself was that my grandfather completed this nightly ritual because he wanted to determine the weather for the next day; would it bring rain, or just clouds, would it be a good time to plant, to plow, to cut hay (and would it have time to dry and be bailed before the next rain). But I have recently questioned that interpretation.
I don't remember my father going out before bedtime to observe the night sky, but I was impressed with his ability to predict the weather. He would watch the weather reports on the nightly local news; and then he would make his own prediction for the coming days (sometimes in agreement, but just as often with a contrary prognostication)...I didn't pay enough attention to know who was right or wrong most often, but I do remember times when he was right and we acted on his prediction ('it's not going to rain, we will cut the hay tomorrow') and he was right. My father assigned our chores based on his weather prediction for the next day.
These memories of my grandfather and father intrigue me because as I get older I experience an overwhelming urge to go outside late in the evening and look at the night sky. While waiting for my eyes to adapt from the blaze of indoor lights and porch lights from the neighbors, I wonder just what I am expecting to see. I am confused by the urge I feel; because I don't have a sense of purpose for the observation I am making. And yet I don't feel the day can properly end without this observation of the approaching night.
I wonder if the urge is genetic; I imagine that my ancestors had to pay close attention to their environment. As farmers they had to work with nature and make good choices if they were to survive. Planting or harvesting at the wrong time could ruin a crop of hay or a grain harvest. And a bad harvest was tied directly to their ability to care for their families.
My nightly ritual comes as a response to a deep urge without a logic purpose in my head. I wonder if this is where my interest in astronomy comes from...a fascination with events in the sky: comets, phases of the moon, satellites, auroras, and planets, this is more than wondering about the weather. It seems connected to an overarching wonder about the world, almost as if there could be some greater clarity with the quiet and dark of night. I want to feel the moving of the seasons, the symphony of smells and sounds that describe a world I cannot see, but know I am a part of.
My childhood fear of the night has left me. In its place is a craving to see beyond the visible world and the humans moving in it; a need to sense the flow of nature. Maybe that is what my grandfather sought as well.
Maybe this is a valuable attribute for the dry farmer; increasing his chance for survival. In my world today it brings wonder and encourages awareness of the natural world around me.
