David, I don’t know about stars the size of snow balls. Seems like they’re fairly normal here, size-wise. At first glance, the night lights of Taos don’t have much of an effect on seeing the stars — on a moonless night, they’re quite amazing. However, we used to live north of Taos in San Cristobal, and THAT was a revelation: the stars didn’t twinkle, they strobed… If that experience was any indication, pre-industrial humans must have witnessed a night sky display unlike anything most of us can imagine. Just another indication of how separated we are from nature. Hell, we can’t even see it.

And no, I’ve never tried night photography of those stars. But a Milky Way that goes from horizon to horizon is one incredible kick in the head. No way I could get all that into one photo, of course.

i have always tried to imagine a mystical view of the ancient night sky above Machu Picchu.

having only spent one feburary night in Albuquerue i sadly say i don’t remember seeing the night sky until the morning after waking to the rising sun, then driving west bound into the shadow of the rocky mountains where the stars appeared.

how would you describe the size of the stars above Taos? do the night lights of Taos block your view of the night sky? Have you captured the Milky Way with your camera?

But I myself know of no way to understand this truth of our condition except in human terms. Rock, water, flowers, earthworms, polar bears – understand none of this. Their insensibility is a lovely thing to contemplate, but if we weren’t here to contemplate it, it would be nothing at all. Nothingness – the death wish – is perhaps where it’s all heading, whether in decades, centuries or eons none of us can know, but why celebrate it, why praise it? Nothing can come of nothing.