A SWEET DOUBLEHEADER (NOTHING TO DO WITH BASEBALL)

It's always nice when good things happen to you. For me it's always unexpected because I tend to be a pessimist and, frankly, lots of stuff--of the bad variety--has happened to me. Not as much as some, but maybe more than most.

But today I did my duty to myself and my health and had a colonoscopy and the doctor said everything looked great, see you in ten years. Of course I automatically thought I won't be around in another ten years to see him again, but when you've had a quintuple heart bypass on your 39th birthday--following a heart attack when you were still 38--you figure now that you've made it to 54, you're really on borrowed time.

Be that as it may, when I got home and was able to eat solid food for the first time in more than 36 hours I was feeling doubly fine. Then the day got even better.

I glanced out the patio doors to check the birds as I do numerous times every day and on one feeder I saw a bird I hadn't seen in at least 20 years. There was Pheucticus ludovicianus--the red-breasted grosbeak--one of God's most beautiful creatures. It was facing away from me at first and its primrose breast couldn't be seen, but I knew from the white bars on the black wings and the white marks on the black rump what it was.

As you can see, it finally rewarded me with a full frontal view. Just wish I had a better zoom on my digital camera. But I'm not complaining. On this day I have nothing much to complain about.

STARRY, STARRY NIGHT

Friday night was an incredible night for stargazing. It's pretty rare to have a completely cloudless night here, but Friday it was perfect for scanning the heavens.

I hadn't had the SkyScout out for quite a while--last time it was the middle of winter and cold as the dickens. For some reason I thought about getting it out Friday, but I couldn't find the damn thing. I looked everywhere I thought it could be, but it wasn't there. Finally I located the damn thing in the closet in our bedroom, next to my camera gadget bag.

The sky was so dark and the stars were so bright that it was hard to know where to start. The moon was just a sliver, so it didn't throw too much light and spoil things. Pollux and Castor, the planet Saturn, Aldebaran, you name it, they were all just leaping out of the darkness. For some reason, though, Polaris always seems to be not very bright here, maybe because pole light on the barn pollutes the view to the north. I"ve noticed it's also hard to see the Ursa constellations, maybe for the same reason.

The cleanest views here are to the northwest, west, southwest and south. The southeast isn't bad, either. But there's light pollution from Oberlin to the east and northeast and the barn light to the north. From about 315˚ around to 135˚ is almost pure darkness, which is very hard to find these days unless you really live in the boonies.

I would have stayed out for an hour, but it was actually kinda chilly--about 45˚--and I had my shorts on because it had been a warm day. Should have just changed into something warmer, but there you have it. I wish I had had a telescope, but I have curbed the urge to buy one thus far. Probably just be another expensive toy that would collect dust. Or not.