Looking to the skies We rarely look to the night skies anymore. That's because we seem determined to light our surroundings with street lights, house lights and yard lights, fading the inky blue of the night to a dull milky gray. Perhaps many of you will remember a time when this was not the case, when learning the names of the stars in the skies was often something learned before we ever learned to read or do maths. The editor can remember clear nights, where her father pointed out constellations such as the Seven Sisters, and the Big and Little Dipper. It was a comforting thing, to look up and see the heavens around us, and to ponder the absolute magnitude of it. But those days are, unfortunately passing by us, and it's only when there's a power outage that we look up, and take a moment to breath the night air. For some of us, a power outage is a wonderful relief, rather than a reason to phone FortisAlberta to complain about the lack of service. It's the reason why many communities are developing Dark Skies initiatives. Light pollution is one of the easiest remedied pollutions we humans have created. The impact isn't just on the night sky. It impacts mammals and birds, impeding migration patterns, and changing nocturnal habits. All because light makes many of us feel safe. Perhaps that is something that lies deep in our genetic coding, that predator-prey response. Despite our deep-seated need to keep the wolves and saber-tooth tigers at bay, it doesn't make much sense to light subdivisions that are still bereft of houses, or to light farm yards where there's no livestock, and no need to light the way from the barn to the house after milking the cows. But now, we have other reasons to look up, and it would be nice to be able to see something. Last month, there was a NASA upper atmosphere satellite fallout with a resulting hoax news story of shrapnel falling at Okotoks. Pieces of this satellite reportedly fell in the Pacific Ocean, between Australia and Hawaii. We'll have another opportunity for viewing fallout during the next few weeks, since a German research satellite has left orbit and is set to crash to earth as it re-enters the atmosphere. The X-ray telescope was built 21 years ago, but in February, scientists reported they were losing control of the satellite. It's estimated that 30 pieces, weighing 1.6 metric tonnes, could manage to hit the earth sometime in late October and early November. Experts also predict that the chance of getting hit with falling German space garbage is about one in 2,000, which is higher than the 1/3,200 chance of being hit by NASA garbage. Those are pretty significant odds, when you think about it. Maybe it might be good to look up just so we can yell, "Duck!" Perhaps, as a result of our predeliction to flipping that light switch, we are raising a generation who will never learn the joy of wishing on a falling star, and of hoping that those wishes come true. The Orionids Meteor Shower will take place Oct. 21-22. This will produce about 20 falling meteors per hour, at its peak. Meteors may be seen any time from Oct. 17-25, and the best viewing will be to the east, after midnight. On Oct. 29, as we near our spooky season, Jupiter will be at its closest approach to Earth, and will be the best time to view and photograph this giant planet, and its moons. If you miss the chance to wish on falling stars in October, the Leonids Meteor Shower Nov. 17-18 is one of the best meteor showers to watch, with about 40 meteors per hour at its peak. You may be able to see some meteors from Nov. 13-20. A total lunar eclipse is expected for Dec. 10. Watch for it.