THE RECORD

April 03, 1996

THE RECORD

April 03, 1996

BACK TO THE EGG

Suzanne Trevis

I haven't been watching the news much lately, I feel a little out of touch. But I caught a bit last Friday when they were talking about the comet.

The TV tends to rattle on in the background most of the time at our house and I think it's kind of funny that with all the things going on in the world it was the one bit that caught my attention.

I read a lot of science fiction and have to confess also, to a very overactive imagination. Not always a good thing maybe, but my life is never boring. Anyway, I only caught the tail end of the story, but realised that for once, maybe, something was going to happen, and the sky was actually clear here in Gold River, if you can believe it.

Well, I went out after the kids were in bed and stood gazing at the sky. It was a bit of a shock. I suddenly realised how long it had been since I looked at the stars. I don't get out much in the dark anyway, and that's depressing enough. But just standing gazing at a clear, black sky, with bright, shiny stars twinkling about, I wondered why it had been so long.

I probably stood there for quite a few minutes, lost in how beautiful it was. Then I panicked when I wasn't sure if I could find the big dipper. But it was still there, and just recognising something in this suddenly strange territory, made me feel much more at home.

That was the end of that. To save my life I could not see anything that looked like what I thought I might be looking for. To be honest I didn't have a clue what it actually was. But I'd felt sure that when I saw it, I would know that that was it. Then I could go away happy knowing that I had seen a real comet. But . . . nothing, just stars. Some were very bright, some more faint and twinkling, but they were all, Just, Stars.

It was very deflating. I've read "Lucifer's Hammer" three times. Travelled Known Space for more than fifteen years. Visited black holes, neutron stars and the galactic core. In my mind I've seen what a dying sun can do to an inhabited planet. I've travelled the sweltering tunnels of a mining colony on Io and I've skipped through time like a pebble across a pond. Now here I am in my own backyard and I can't even SEE this damn comet.

I went in the house and decided it really wasn't that big a deal, anyway. But it was. And it really bugged me.

So, Saturday night I went out again, and there it was, right off the end of the big dipper, right where they'd said it would be. I know it's moving, but I still don't know how I could have missed it the night before. It was a slightly brighter star, smudged and blurred a little, like there was some fog. And, you could see the tail best if you didn't look AT it. It was great.

It took me two days before I thought about the telescope. I'd bought it for my husband, back before we had children. It sits in the window of the family room, collecting dust and getting in the way every time I vacuum, it is one of those invisible things you own. You never use it, but it's there all the time, and after awhile it just goes away. Well, I can not tell a lie. Even after two days I really only remembered 'cause my Dad asked me how the comet looked through the telescope. And then I felt really stupid.

So earlier tonight, once all my darling children were finally tucked up in bed, and, of course, once the academies were finished, I cleaned all the lenses, and dragged the whole works out onto the deck.

To make a long story short, I could see the comet better on my own. But the moon was totally awesome. From the crisp, clear edge facing the sun, to the blurred terminator. Each pockmark, each crater, was sharply etched on the chalk like surface. I must have watched it cross the face of the telescope half a dozen times. Winding the barrel around, only to watch it cross again. It was so . . . . real.

I'm going to bring the kids out tomorrow. I don't know if they'll appreciate it enough. I don't know if they're old enough to grasp the significance. Or if they get so inundated with "Hollywood" that the reality won't measure up. But I think I'll bring them anyway. If it doesn't rain. This is Gold River after all and I may have been pushing my luck at four clear nights.

But there'll be others. And this time I don't want to get so caught up in life that I forget.