I may have studied a little bit of astrophysics and astrobiology, but when it comes to looking up and knowing what I am seeing – well, that is a completely different thing. The constellations I know are the ones I learned when I was a child: the Big Dipper/Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, the Pleiades, and the Polar Star. That is it. Orion? Betelgeuse? Halcyon? The Zodiac? I had no clue. How does the night sky shift (or how does our planet actually move) through the seasons, and how do I orientate to find stars and constellations? No knowledge.
Fortunately, spending one day with the local university astronomy society helps, I find. The only thing is, stargazing with equipment is not so easy. The past 3 years I have tried to combine remembering my intention to stargaze with the weather report and have not been successful at all. Every time I remember it is overcast, and every time I do not remember, there are weeks of clear skies to use the astronomy society’s telescopes. 
One sunny day in August I discovered that the little, old observatory was open for sun viewings. The sun is a star, right? Mission accomplished. And I have been able to stare at the sun without being blinded. Seeing its protrusions, its sunspots, all the beauty flaws it tries to hide under its brilliant light. I have seen the true nature of the sun and it is absolutely fascinating.
(Helsinki, Finland; September 2017)
Two months away from home and I certainly missed these two rascals.
The backpack is emptied, the clothes are laundered, the laptop is showing Gilmore Girls, and the cats are right where they usually are: somewhere on top of me. All is well in the world.
“Just sit”, the late meditation teacher Michael Stone used to say. “Just sit, once a day, every day. That is all it takes”. But what if there are early morning flights? I am not good at sitting at 4.30 am. And what if when I get home and sit, the cats sit all over me – or alternatively break into mutiny on the other side of the door? What if, when I finally sit, I almost fall asleep? There are days when just sitting is fine. And then there are those other kind of days.
This is what we in Finland call a “nightless night”. 10.45 in pm in mid-June, and getting lighter still, until the old pagan festival of midsummer in the third weekend of June which falls on or a few days from summer solstice. In Helsinki, the sun sets at 11 pm and rises again at 4 am. In the northern one-third of Finland it never sets until later in the summer.
The Brits are invading. With Red Arrows. Shooting…um…. arrows.
Madame Cassandra, 13 years and counting. She has left a piece of her right earlobe somewhere along the path of life. It is a mystery.
Being an adult is overrated. Spending time in an amusement park is underrated. 
But we did not touch the crazy colorful candy. Sugar is overrated. I would rather get my kicks in the old, wooden rollercoaster. (and maybe some pink fluffy cotton candy; I confess)
(Linnanmäki, Helsinki, Finland; May 2017)
With mama Nature one crisp spring morning last April. This beautifully mutilated tree hides in the Nuuksio National Park, just a half hour’s drive from downtown Helsinki.
This blue marble 