Look up in the sky and remember today: A REAL Trifecta

[Octafish]

If skies are clear where you are: a reminder to go out and take a look at the moon and Jupiter.
At 11 p.m. ET or so, they won't appear so close together in the sky until 2026.



Today has been a real trifecta:

The inaugural of President Obama

The celebration of the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. National Day of Service

The appulse of Jupiter and the Moon.

It's a sight that may help you remember today 13 years from now and, I sincerely hope for all, farther down the road than that.

To borrow the immortal words of Dr. Jack Horkheimer, "Keep looking up." The skies are beautiful in Detroit tonight.

[patrice]

1. Skies also figured significantly in Richard Blanco's poem. nt

[Octafish]

2. A magnificent poem by un Galán.

One Today

One sun rose on us today, kindled over our shores,
peeking over the Smokies, greeting the faces
of the Great Lakes, spreading a simple truth
across the Great Plains, then charging across the Rockies.
One light, waking up rooftops, under each one, a story
told by our silent gestures moving behind windows.

My face, your face, millions of faces in morning's mirrors,
each one yawning to life, crescendoing into our day:
pencil-yellow school buses, the rhythm of traffic lights,
fruit stands: apples, limes, and oranges arrayed like rainbows
begging our praise. Silver trucks heavy with oil or paper—
bricks or milk, teeming over highways alongside us,
on our way to clean tables, read ledgers, or save lives—
to teach geometry, or ring-up groceries as my mother did
for twenty years, so I could write this poem.

All of us as vital as the one light we move through,
the same light on blackboards with lessons for the day:
equations to solve, history to question, or atoms imagined,
the "I have a dream" we keep dreaming,
or the impossible vocabulary of sorrow that won't explain
the empty desks of twenty children marked absent
today, and forever. Many prayers, but one light
breathing color into stained glass windows,
life into the faces of bronze statues, warmth
onto the steps of our museums and park benches
as mothers watch children slide into the day.

One ground. Our ground, rooting us to every stalk
of corn, every head of wheat sown by sweat
and hands, hands gleaning coal or planting windmills
in deserts and hilltops that keep us warm, hands
digging trenches, routing pipes and cables, hands
as worn as my father's cutting sugarcane
so my brother and I could have books and shoes.

The dust of farms and deserts, cities and plains
mingled by one wind—our breath. Breathe. Hear it
through the day's gorgeous din of honking cabs,
buses launching down avenues, the symphony
of footsteps, guitars, and screeching subways,
the unexpected song bird on your clothes line.

Hear: squeaky playground swings, trains whistling,
or whispers across café tables, Hear: the doors we open
for each other all day, saying: hello, shalom,
buon giorno, howdy, namaste, or buenos días
in the language my mother taught me—in every language
spoken into one wind carrying our lives
without prejudice, as these words break from my lips.

One sky: since the Appalachians and Sierras claimed
their majesty, and the Mississippi and Colorado worked
their way to the sea. Thank the work of our hands:
weaving steel into bridges, finishing one more report
for the boss on time, stitching another wound
or uniform, the first brush stroke on a portrait,
or the last floor on the Freedom Tower
jutting into a sky that yields to our resilience.

One sky, toward which we sometimes lift our eyes
tired from work: some days guessing at the weather
of our lives, some days giving thanks for a love
that loves you back, sometimes praising a mother
who knew how to give, or forgiving a father
who couldn't give what you wanted.

We head home: through the gloss of rain or weight
of snow, or the plum blush of dusk, but always—home,
always under one sky, our sky. And always one moon
like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop
and every window, of one country—all of us—
facing the stars
hope—a new constellation
waiting for us to map it,
waiting for us to name it—together.

[patrice]

3. Magnificent is the word for this . . .

It is a magnification and it magnifies.

I read and have read tones of poetry.

I care about it a great deal, always have.

This is one of the best poems I have EVER read.

P.S. Did you happen to hear what sounded like a train whistle during the President's speech?

[Octafish]

4. No, I will listen for it.

What happened?

[patrice]

5. I'll have to listen to a recording too, in the last half of the speech somewhere, in one of his

pauses. Two train-whistle type sounds, not very loud, but I think maybe he heard them too, though he did not pause too long, just my impression of the moment.

I should reality-check myself, just haven't done it yet.

I'm not kidding; that was a completely awesome poem if it hadn't been written for this inauguration.

I love poetry, so I can't say anything phony about it.

[2naSalit]

12. I did

Sounded like Amtrak maybe. Heard it twice.

And I loved that poem. I think it was the best inaugural ceremony, well, since his first one... and I've seen all of them since Kennedy. The crowd went as far as you could see, no wonder he had to take another look. I think he's probably the most compassionate and respectful president of my lifetime.

[patrice]

26. I loved that turning back to see; it spoke very deeply to me for some personal reasons. nt

[Tumbulu]

13. i feel the same way about this poem and this poet

A what a gorgeous man as well. I was in tears the entire time that he was sharing it with us.

[CTyankee]

24. Iheard it too. What a nice sound...it fit with the tone of the poem and the speech...

[patrice]

25. Oh good! I haven't had time to review it yet. & I need to bookmark Blanco's reading of One Today for

special more meditative experiences.

[Oilwellian]

6. Lovely n/t

[iandhr]

7. :)

[Octafish]

20. I tried getting my family away from the tee vee...

...The skies were crystal clear and dark, absolutely perfect viewing for the metropolitan region anyway.

I ran inside and told them what was going on and they said, "Hmm. All right." So, I got on the puter and wrote this.

By the time I got them outside, it had clouded over and a freezing drizzle was coming down. They all looked up and then looked at me and headed back inside to get ready for the rigors of Tuesday.

I went back outside and it had cleared. I asked again, and everyone was set for showers, etc.

LOL. What they missed...

[Spitfire of ATJ]

8. Funny, I just looked at the moons of Jupiter last night.

Looked a lot like this:

[Octafish]

21. That's beautiful. Like observing a miniature solar system.

One of the great sights through a telescope, your image. Go back in a few hours and the positions of the inner moons have changed. Look at it the next night and three might be on the left side.

No wonder the Church wanted to burn Galileo and his telescope. The guy was a radical, what he saw.

[Spitfire of ATJ]

23. That's a thing I mention to average people....

Galileo had a very primitive telescope so a cheap telescope of today or a good set of binoculars will show the average person the moons of Jupiter or the rings of Saturn. People tend to think of those as requiring extreme magnification but they are much closer than people think. You can spot Jupiter easily as it is the brightest thing in the sky. Much brighter than any star.

[7wo7rees]

9. God Bless DETROIT Tonight

My home for many years. The high school years. The years of the Electrifying Mojo.
It was all poetry. Serving toasted almond bars to the Bad Boys riding go-karts at 2am on Van Dyke.
I am in awe of the closeness I experienced to the end so early in life. I survived Detroit.
I can experience Jupiter in my 40's. Thank you Octafish.

[Octafish]

22. Thank you, 7wo7rees! Peace and joy to you and yours in the New Year!

Detroit has not changed since you lived here: same problems affecting all of us, same attitudes in too many hearts, same great people who care about one another and the future of us all.

I've got a friend or two in the music business who were friends with Mojo. The guy was loved by musicians and the pols, who wanted that "one mention" on-air. Today, we have a lot of noise coming out of the radio, but not many human figures who can lead.

PS: That is a great graphic of Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9! I actually had my 4-inch Meade pointed at it at the time of impact, back in 1994. I could've sworn I saw a flash...

[2naSalit]

10. Wow

where I'm at (approximately 7.000ft) it's -1F and there's a prism/halo around the moon and Jupiter is inside the prism! What an awesome day!!

[Tumbulu]

14. That sounds magical!~ nt

[2naSalit]

15. It sure looks and feels magical.

I'm going to take it as a good omen.

[Tumbulu]

16. Me too! nt

[lonestarnot]

11. K & R!

[Hissyspit]

17. I'm looking at it right now in North Carolina. It's very close.

[slackmaster]

18. Jupiter looks superiffic through my 8-inch Schmidt-Cassegrain

I wish I had a good platform to photograph it.

[Adenoid_Hynkel]

19. awwww...I miss jack

He was one of a kind