Sometimes when I look at the sky I can't help but think of the vast distances, and consider the time spans involved. The brilliance and the violence, and the evidence left behind after lives of stars have passed and ended. Clouds of dust and gas like vast oceans, surrounding what once was their home, dimly illuminated from within by the shrivelled corpse of a once magnificent body that radiated heat and light that could -- and perhaps some did -- give birth to and uphold all kinds of life, even civilizations. Dwarf stars, some still shining a brilliant white, some reduced to a reddish brown. Spent and exhausted. Finished. Like a tombstone in memory of itself, and yet in turn the source for a new cycle of life, new generations of stars and worlds, as we ourselves are born of stardust.
Now they hang there in space as fading memories of enormous events that took place hundreds, thousands of years ago. Even so, every now and then, others will light up briefly and fade to join them as the cycle continues, while the galaxy spins upon its axis, and the Universe expands.
But on nights like this I look at the moon and how it shines through the clouds.
At 17:37 CET today the moon was at its absolute closest and brightest. And the clouds were of course at their thickest. Here it's instead precisely three hours later, and the clouds have thinned out a bit -- but not more than being just right for making a pretty frame around the moon where she hangs. Almost like a nebula.
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Image no. DSC_3108 (RAW)
Very slight contrast and colour enhancement in Irfanview.
Same post on flickr.
