By Larry Berz
Traditionally, once past the Vernal Equinox of mid-March, Aroostook sighs with certain confidence that Winter’s defeat is imminent. And I suppose that’s the case in 2011.
The rising of the Piscean Sun each March morning certifies that days indeed are now lengthy in quality and quantity. The glaring 6 p.m. sunlight of sunset also pays recognition to our success territorially.
The panoply of late seasonal constellations beckons us to extend our imaginations and creativity in spite of the cold, the grey, the frozen. Who dares ignore mighty Orion, shouting his final winter commands to us mortals – the jewels of his belt, shoulders, knee and toe unmistakable in hue and magnitude. Taurus’ bulls-eye glare is a V-shaped token of celestial power. Nearby, the tiny Pleiades glimmer and glammer as only a teacup-shaped cluster of 450 light year diamonds may. Further east, Gemini and Auriga clearly outline and enlighten the sky with stick-picture like clarity. Leo lions the east as it questions our true motives with its question-marked mane and triangular hindquarters. Beacon-like Arcturus, the fourth brightest luminary from the Northern Hemisphere, searches out skywatchers, perched low upon the northeastern horizon, its orange-aid brightness dazzling. Later in the evening, the “Lord of the Rings” Saturn himself goldenrods low southeastern skies aided by an ear of wheat, mild and gentle Spica the blue.
And other planets herald new seasons. Did any eye capture the startling play-by-play of bright Jupiter and Mercury low in western skies for seven days in March? Planets play tag, too. Even Venus shyly winks in early morning methods, very low in eastern skies. Will anyone care to see her date with the thin crescent of a Moon on Thursday, March 31st, weather permitting?
I awaken, like you, to the sounds and rites of Spring. Environmental realities everywhere demand we yield to the best of our senses.
During the Presidential campaign of 1964, I recall as an 8-year-old boy in suburban Chicago, a television political advertisement for Democratic candidate Lyndon Baines Johnson depicting a small, lovely girl gently and quietly picking a daisy in an utterly tranquil grassy field. As she picked the petals, the camera zoomed upon her lithe form and then upon her eye, which suddenly transformed itself into the horrifying image of a hydrogen bomb exploding into mushrooming reality. The message of this unforgettable ad claimed that in a world of such potential destruction and annihilation, we must choose sober and trustworthy leadership.
How tragically ironic that this political comment was uttered on behalf of the American President who would soon lead us into our most tragic and tangled overseas military expedition and expense, the Vietnam War.
What is the hydrogen bomb? It is the ultimate act of external destruction currently available in the trembling hand of humanity. It is a fusion weapon requiring ignition from atomic bomb “triggers.”
First detonated in 1952, this thermonuclear weapon has no size limit imposed upon it. It is as widespread as the imaginationj, our own hatred and fears which required its construction in the first place. The H-bomb is the “hatred” bomb. It is antithetical to Life and the truth God plants within us to love and live. It is our collective duty to not only destroy its pathological “necessity” but to extinguish the original insecurities that required its horrifying implementation.
Only love, good will, and forgiveness offer a chance for technological redemption. Nuclear power, in the words of the late President Kennedy, “has no conscience of its own.” Its dynamics light the stars of Orion, Taurus, Gemini, Auriga, and Leo themselves.
And in the light of recent events in Japan, we can see that even the constructive use of such technology and power demands the utmost scrutiny and safeguards. And just perhaps the reality of such power in the 21st century awakens the reality of the Island of Glass within the microseconds of our minds. “To be or not to be” remains the ultimate ontological question now terribly brought to us today from the infinitely complex heart of humanity. And the Truth may rest in today’s town within microseconds of deliverance.
May we all enter the light of this new season humbly.
Larry Berz is the astronomy instructor at the Francis Malcolm Science Center in Easton. The museum will celebrate an open house on Saturday, April 30, from 11 a.m. – 4 p.m.
