Having the day free, I spent this afternoon reading, first in a book called Healing and the Mind by Bill Moyers, then in a book called The Power of Your Subconscious Mind by Joesph Murphy. By the time I’d read fifty pages in each book, my brain was bleeding, so I took a nap. When I woke up, convinced I needed to make today “a reading day,” I turned my attention to my beginner’s astronomy book. However, my mind couldn’t handle any more information. It was full. Plus, being cooped up in the house all day, I was growing restless, irritable.

About sunset I told my parents, “I’m going for a walk.”

Manned with my phone and an astronomy app, I determined to use my walk as an opportunity to identify stars and planets. For the last week I’ve been stargazing after midnight, so I thought being out around nine would not only let me see a few different stars, but would also let me see which stars “come out” first. (Some of us take longer than others.) Y’all, I can’t tell you what a great time I had. I learned in the book today that all the planets (and our sun and moon) travel (basically) along what’s called the elliptic, a narrow band in the sky that’s somewhat like a racetrack for the galaxy’s major players. The first ones to show up on the track as the sun sets? The two brightest planets–Venus (in the west) and Jupiter (currently close to the moon in the south).

For two hours I walked around Van Buren, listening to podcasts and periodically checking my phone against the night sky. Starting out I found Castor and Pollux, the two brightest stars in the constellation Gemini (in the west). Tonight was my first time to deliberately and consciously see them. As they dipped below the horizon, I turned my attention to what have this week become easy constellations for me to spot–The Big Dipper, The North Star and The Little Dipper, The Northern Cross, The Summer Triangle (which isn’t technically a constellation but rather three bright stars in three separate constellations), and Scorpius. Then I found Saturn in the southeast (in Capricorn), trailing behind Jupiter (in Scorpio) along the ecliptic.

I realize this jargon may not make sense. A week ago I would have been totally confused by this information and am just beginning to sort it all out. Today I learned that the ecliptic travels through twelve constellations (the zodiac). Or at least it used to. Things have shifted a bit. But still, astronomers and astrologers make reference to these twelve constellations all the time. Zodiac means “circle of little animals,” fitting since the majority of the twelve constellations or zodiac signs are animals. If you can find the ecliptic, “the signs” will appear along it in the order (or reverse order) they appear during the calendar year (starting around the Spring Equinox)–Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo (where Venus is currently), Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces. For those interested in the zodiac (and–uh–horoscopes), your “sun sign” is the constellation along the ecliptic that the sun was “in” at the time you were born.

Anyway, the stars were all I could think about tonight. For the last week I’ve been looking for Cassiopeia, the famous w-shaped constellation in the northern sky. I’d read that if you know how to find The North Star using The Big Dipper (and the last two stars in the ladle), you can follow that arc to Cassiopeia, the mythological queen who was banished to the night sky by Poseidon for her vanity. However, until tonight I couldn’t find her–I’ve been looking from my driveway, and I guess she’s been behind the neighbors’ houses. But as I got close to home about ten-thirty this evening, I saw her peeking out between some trees. Y’all, I got so excited.

And then I got pissed because all the streetlights and car lights kept making her hard to see.

Finally, I came up with a plan. Back inside the house, I asked Dad if he wanted to drive out-of-town to look for stars, to chase Cassiopeia. Five minutes later, we were piled into Tom Collins (my car), on the hunt. We went to three different places, each about ten minutes from the house, each with different vantage points. And whereas we could still see the city lights, being farther away from them made spotting the stars MUCH easier. At the first location, Cassiopeia was still behind some trees, but the sky was dark enough for me to find Draco the Dragon, something I haven’t been able to do from my driveway. Then at the second location, there she was in all her glory–Cassiopeia, the Queen.

Speaking as a queen myself, she looked fabulous.

Finally, at the third location, Dad and I found Mars, which had just shown up in the southeast along the ecliptic. (It’s reddish). I was thrilled. I kept driving the car a little farther down the road, turning off the lights, getting out, checking the sky. Yep, they’re still there. Back in our driveway about midnight, I looked again. This time, even with the city lights, I was able to find Cassiopeia, Draco, Mars–all my new friends. I suppose they were there all along, I just didn’t know how to find them. I don’t know why this delights me so much, star hunting. There’s something about seeing what the ancients saw, something about finding my place in the heavens. Plus I think, What other wonders–friends–are right in front of me, just waiting for me to finally notice?