Demented Astronomy
I hope nobody was watching me outside just now.

I rather hope nobody was watching me last night either, but my activity last night was less obviously crazed. Last night I went out to look at the new moon. It was not visible from 38th and Blaisdell, though several bats were plying around pleasantly. I went west on 38th, because Blaisdell is in a dip at the bottom of two hills, and Nicollet is not a good place for even very simple astronomy. As I went I almost saw a faint star in the southwest, but I couldn't locate it reliably. Once I'd gotten up most of the small slope, just before Pleasant Avenue, I saw a brighter star in the west. That was Venus. I went on west a little further, and once I got to where my northwestern horizon consisted of a one-story commercial building with no trees around it, I could see the moon. It was very faint and quite large, being so close to the horizon. I had figured out by then that my fainter star was Jupiter. I couldn't see it from where I was. So I walked back and forth and stood on the curb and stood in the gutter and craned my neck about, trying to find a spot where I could see both planets and the moon at the same time. It was not to be. But as I walked home in the now-complete dark, I saw an object in the eastern sky so bright that I felt it must be an airplane. It was not, however; it was a planet. Finally I remembered Eric's telling me that Mars was making its every-other-yearly close approach to us.

Tonight I went out earlier, and of course the moon was higher and further to the south. I saw it as soon as I got to Pillsbury, a block before Pleasant. Venus, rather drab when compared to its most spectacular appearances when it is closer, was just to the south of the moon, above some economical swirls of cloud in pink and slate-blue. I stood quite happily looking at this sight, being waved impatiently across the street by a number of drivers. Then I started to try to find Jupiter. People getting off the bus and more drivers looked at me oddly. I went and sat on a bench outside the church there. I couldn't see the moon and Venus from that vantage point, but I felt that I should be able to see Jupiter once the sky became a little darker. This was not the case. I accordingly headed for home. I looked for Mars, but the eastern sky was cloudy. Then I walked backwards to keep the moon and Venus in view, and from time to time I darted my head at the southern sky to catch Jupiter out. I felt like an insect-eating bird with an eating disorder. I could still see the moon and Venus at the intersection of 38th and Blaisdell, from the southern side. Once I had crossed 38th, to the northern side of the intersection, I could suddenly see Jupiter. The best place from which to see all three was in the middle of the intersection. I was not daft enough to stand there, especially with busses and lightless bicyclists both running yellow lights as if they were having some kind of contest. I did cross all the streets repeatedly in several directions, trying to get just one glimpse of the entire available palette of satellites. When I had become dizzy enough, I went home.

Raphael kindly offered to make me a gin and tonic, so I get to continue the dizziness, although not the astronomy.

EDITED TO ADD: Non-dizzy consultation with reference materials indicates that yes, that really was Jupiter, but no, that really was not Mars. Thanks to davidgoldfarb for pointing out that Mars is not rising until after midnight this month.

P.