Showing posts with label Science. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Science. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 06, 2012

The Transit of Venus


If you didn't know, yesterday was something special.  The Transit of Venus occurred and if you missed it, I'm sorry.

But, James, what is the Transit of Venus?  How did you know about it?  Is it because you're smart and good looking?  Or is it because you're a science nerd like Valerie says?

We both know the answer.  Space knowledge thinks I'm sexy.

The Transit of Venus is a rare celestial event that occurs every 100 odd years where the planet Venus crosses between the Sun and the Earth.  If you're lucky enough to be on a place on the earth while the transit is occurring, you'll see it as a black dot on the sun.

You need special sun viewing glasses such as the ten pairs I purchased from http://onlinesciencemall.com/.  Again, not because I'm a science geek but because my good looks attracts science to my brain.

And I'll tell you a little story about it if you want to hear.  I'm a man of science and a man of faith. I don't think those things are separate but sometimes they converge in ways I don't expect.

The Story:

I invited dozens of friends from my church to come and partake in Prospect Park.  There was a hill I had scouted out where you could see the sun in full view from 6 to 8 pm.  But the weather was not participating.  I'd been diligently checking the weather for days.  Because every astronomer on the Eastern Seaboard was bemoaning this new influx of storms that suddenly popped up.

But Valerie and I decided to brave it anyway.  We went out to the park, emailed everyone and said make your own decision, and headed to the designated spot.  The new hourly forecast said the storm was being pushed back until 7 but then it started up around 4 anyway.  And then suddenly about 5:30, blue sky broke through.  So we left the comfort of a friend's house, walked through the park to meet our friends.

Our first snag was our baby.  Edie got crazy tired and started to fall asleep around 6:30.  We were still walking to the hill and gray clouds had blanketed everything again.  Valerie and I lost hope.  We decided that she would go home and put Edie to bed and I'd meet our friends and call it off.

I reached them about 6:45 and nothing had really changed.  Except for one patch of blue slowly moving to the south.  It's movement was agonizingly  slow across the sky.  We saw light pouring out.  We couldn't triangulate exactly where the sun was but we hoped. And the break came and sailed right below the sun.  We were crushed.

Shiloh Donkin (she wrote about it earlier today here) and Elizabeth and Kent Bulfin had shown up to meet me and Jeffrey Butler.  The sun was sinking quickly and someone remembered they  had an app on their phone to track where exactly the sun was.  And then we saw it.  One more patch of blue.  We were less hopeful.  We knew where the sun was now and the patch was too low again.  The probability was us catching it was so slim.  But we decided to stick it out.  We were at least going to be proud of ourselves for trying.

And then I started praying.  I told Heavenly Father, "This is a stupid prayer.  It's just one thing.  It's not big.  I'm not praying for peace or sickness or anything amazing.  I just want to see the Transit of Venus.  And all these people came out to see it, too.  Just something beautiful and amazing that You created.  If You move the clouds just a little, I would be so thankful.  I guess it's a miracle I'm praying for. I'm sorry if it's dumb."

Unbeknownst to me, Shiloh was praying, too.  And so was Elizabeth.  Just for a simple thing.  But also a big thing.  To move giant clouds.  To have the sky open just long enough for us to see something incredible.

And the clouds moved.  They started dissipating as soon as I finished praying. The patch of blue opened like a mouth.  We all put on our glasses and bit by bit the sun peeked through the wisps of clouds.  It didn't happen all at once.  First the bottom, then the middle, and then all of us out loud chanting, pleading, imploring the clouds to go a little further up so we could see Venus in the right hand corner of the Sun.

Then miracle. The entire Sun opened up on a rainy, cloud strewn day. A miracle. You can believe it or not.  We started motioning for people passing by to come over.  Runners and dogwalkers took our glasses from us and saw Venus.  Not as a star in the sky but as a planet.  Our neighborhood rock in the Solar System.

And we had this small crowd of people around us.  Old women and young runners, kids and locals, all passing around these glasses, looking at something that only their grandkids might experience next.  And then just as I was handing my glasses to a guy, the clouds closed up.  He didn't see it.  He was disappointed but he told me he was really touched to see all these people together.  Just "the goodwill" of the moment.

Then people handed the glasses back one by one.  Thanked us.  Told us how special it was.  And then we walked home.  Told each other about how we'd prayed about it.  How we knew it just a small thing.  But how we watched God control the clouds.  A gift to his children.  And how we got to see something rare.  Two miracles.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Day 5 - The Earth Has a Hole in It


So the genesis for this poem is interesting. I suddenly remembered my 10th grade Chemistry teacher, Mr. Frink, walking into class and announcing that we had on school premises one of the most volatile chemicals in existence. It was so acidic that it must be kept in something special. And I remember that it was something very unassuming. Like wax or colored glass. But he assured us that if he were to bring it in, it would burn through every substance between here and the earth.

For the next two years of high school, I was obsessed with the idea of breaking into the science supply closet and stealing this chemical. It was actually one of my senior prank ideas. But after one senior prank went horribly south, I gave up on it.

It's possible Mr. Frink was lying as well and just wanted to get our attention. It's not a deep or mind blowing poem. Just something fun to write.


Volatile

In our high school science supply closet,
there is a chemical locked in wax
that is so potent, that if released
would burn through all beakers,
through the heavy black wood of science tables,
through all gym bags and all sneakers,
through the rough tile of the school,
through cement, through rebar, through time capsules,
it will carve fire through earthworms, cicadas asleep,
through root systems and under-rivers,
it will drill the bedrock, lance the iron ores,
go through dinosaurs piecemeal,
burn mysteries, melt undiscoveries,
and into the core and out again
with barely a burp
and then up again, out of the world,
to the flats of Australia,
rising up against gravity,
dispersing a cloud,
past therma, tropo, strato, meso spheres
into the forever superhighway of space
where it can be
someplace it is against nothing,
only inert.