Aroostook Skies: The rite of winter

12 years ago

Aroostook Skies: The rite of winter

By Larry Berz

    Because you are my friends and fellow townsfolk, I can recount to you a story that they attributed to a great man. It was once reported that someone asked Abraham Lincoln what he felt after an unsuccessful election. And the railsplitter responded: “I felt like a little boy who had stubbed his toe in the dark. I was too old to cry, but it hurt too much to laugh.”

    And I suppose we, too, in the face of the recent surge of unrelenting cold and darkness, would agree with “Honest” Abe’s assessment. Yes, I took out the garbage. Yes, I walked the dog. Yes, I commuted to work. Yes, I stopped to shop. But each time, I staggered back to the welcome mat of my home, I felt with each gust of gas that some unseen force had poked a sharp finger behind my eyeball. I returned home layered with every form of weatherproof, Gortex and latex barrier. But the great northern tore through my armor, seething and burning like fire through tissue paper.

    When the cold comes through like a frozen flood, what do I do?

    Let me reassure my community. With heart and sword, I assembled a team of students and staff from the Maine School of Science and Mathematics. With malice toward none and good will toward all, our planetary platoon erected the Malcolm Institute’s “Goliath” telescope on the grounds of Caribou Shop ‘N Save, Monday Jan. 21st. From 5:30 to 7:30 p.m., “Goliath” brought Jacob’s ladder from Jupiter to Earth with love. The good, the bad, and the ugly assembled to the mystery of that great Jovian ball attended by its dancing moons. And finally, old Luna herself amazed open eyeballs with her cratered, blasted ancient face.

    Frozen but fearless, “Shop ‘N Space” will return for a repeat engagement in mid-February and mid-March. We owe it to President Lincoln’s 19th century feelings, to zip ‘n latch towards the sky. Let’s cry and laugh, people, and remember the words of a 20th century President from New England: “For in the final analysis, our most basic common link, is that we all inhabit this small planet, we all breathe the same air, we all cherish our children’s future, and we are all mortal.”

    Larry Berz of Caribou is director of Easton’s Francis Malcolm Planetarium and astronomy instructor at the Maine School of Science and Mathematics.