Dark Skies

The International Dark-Sky Association is not some evil organisation bent on the destruction of society (although that would be cool).  Instead, it's a group of professional and amateur astronomers who sensibly point out that "light pollution" destroys our view of the cosmos (not to mentions messes with sea turtles) and suggests common-sense ways to minimize it, which also reduces energy and saves money.  What could be easier?

Except I think they have a real fight on their hands.

I was in Mitzpe Ramon for the meteor shower, and I was there specifically because the local council shuts off all of the town's lights for the event.  This has proved very popular, and I read that last year they attracted 9,000 people, although I find that a little hard to believe considering the town only has 5,000 residents!  There were certainly a lot of people there, but I wouldn't estimate it at more than 500-1,000, at least at the soccer field they had designated for the event.

Of course, I didn't go into the soccer field, partly because of my enduring disdain for fellow humans, but mostly because I didn't have a bright pink wristband like everyone else (and no idea how to get one).  Instead, I went to a "rock sculpture garden" nearby, staked out a broad flat rock that didn't look like it might be harboring any venomous snakes, and laid down.  The sun was just setting, the moon was going to follow shortly, I could already see hundreds of stars, and I realised it had been five years since I last went stargazing.  Five years!  I used to go once or twice a year, to the top of Mount Pina in Frasier Park, 2000 feet up and it was always cold, but I was prepared with blankets, gloves, hats, scarves, and six layers of clothes.  Tonight I was just wearing jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, and I had a thin jumper in the car.

Then the sun went down and the wind picked up and the temperature dropped 20 degrees and I was absolutely freezing and miserable.  After about 20 minutes of shivering, I went back to the car to collect my jumper, and then decided to take a short nap while waiting for the moon to set.  I woke up at 1am.

Which is fine, because meteor showers are always best right before dawn (when the earth is colliding with them head-on) and besides all of the day trippers had taken their kids home, leaving only the avid stargazers.  I grabbed my jumper and got out of my car and there were...campfires!

I can't begin to express my shock and horror.  The whole point of being in Mitzpeh Ramon was to have dark skies, and these people were ruining it for everyone!  Elsewhere people had their car lights on and music playing, and people were walking around with bright flashlights and shining them on everyone.  It was a freak show, not a star party.  I honestly have no idea why anyone of them had bothered to come out into the middle of Negev desert, since they obviously had no actual interest in the meteor shower.

So now I had to get away from all the people, in a town I knew nothing about.  I thought about driving out of town, but that would just mean I was sitting on Highway 40 with constant traffic going by.  I thought about going to a campsite that I knew had a star party the night before, but then I realised you needed a 4x4 to reach it.  I thought about going to the cemetery, but then I asked myself what I was thinking.  For someone who purports not to believe in anything supernatural, I am still scared by them.

So I ended up driving around town, at 2am, with the street lights off.  Even though it is a tiny little town, it was still terrifying!  I did not appreciate how accustomed I am to having city streets lit up like daytime. I literally could not see 20 feet ahead of me. When you're barreling down the motorway that's one thing, but in a built-up environment with parked cars, occasional pedestrians, turns and dead-end streets, it was incredibly difficult. 

Even worse, when I finally found a spot that was away from all the people, I didn't want to stay there because it was away from all the people!  To be fair, I really can't imagine a safer little town than Mitzpe Ramon, but the big city paranoia runs deep, and I was not comfortable being in the middle of nowhere.

Finally I found a spot, which I later realised was the entrance to Mahktesh Ramon, the crater I had gone down the day before.  There were some people on the hill above me, there were some rocks for setting up my camera (although I don't think I caught a single meteor), and more importantly the gale force wind was being blocked by the hill, so it was cool but tolerable.  My only complaint was that there was no place to sit or lie down.  I stood out there for nearly two hours, mindlessly operating my camera, and saw some good meteors but no fireballs, nothing really that great.  I did get excited at one point until I realised what I was seeing were Chinese lanterns that someone had released over the canyon.  Unbelievable.

One humorous moment came when I saw one of the people on the hill was standing near the cliff edge, and I thought his silhouette against the backdrop of stars would make a nice photo. I'd just set up the camera and released the shutter when I heard the unmistakable sound of water splashing below the ledge.  Fortunately I was far enough away, but the camera was on a 30-second shutter and there was nothing I could do to stop it.  It will be interesting to see how that photo comes out.

Speaking of which, I managed to drain the camera battery that night, and did not bring the charger with me.  As of Wednesday it is still working, but I have 3 more days in Israel.  Fingers crossed.

* Of course, you don't want a meteor to be too great, as that could mean the end to life on this planet.  I should also note that photo isn't mine, wasn't taken in Mitzpe Ramon, isn't of the Perseid meteor shower, and wasn't taken this year.  But it's still pretty.