I memorized this poem for literature class during my tender freshman year of high school. Now, eight years later, I find myself in a university astronomy class. It seems rather fitting for me to be in the class. The sky has alwaysinspired me and captured my imagination. I tend to stop in my tracks to look at the sky and soak in its ephemeral beauty (for it is almost always especially beautiful) until whoever I'm with urges me to stop daydreaming and pay attention to some tediously familiar thing at hand on Earth.
I signed up for the class with high expectations. It seemed far more
interesting and less painful than dissecting some poor animal in biology or
stumbling through miry equations in chemistry. The first few weeks have been fruitful. I learned many foundational things about the universe, which inspired me to pore through
Sky and Telescope magazine, which in turn inspired me to combine what I've learned in both astronomy class and photography class and dabble in
astrophotography. This beautiful universe leaves me in awe of God's glory.
I had hoped that my astronomy teacher might emphasize with my wonder of the skies. Perhaps he does, but much differently--he is nowhere near as abstract as I am! He is, however, passionate about his field of study. Whenever we go to a new subject, he always says it's his favorite thing to talk about. I can't help but grin at him--
every subject in astronomy is his favorite. He is an enthusiastic teacher, but mere enthusiasm does not turn on the light bulbs in the minds of students. The past few class sessions have shifted onto the subject of calculating distances, temperatures, luminosities, densities, and
masses of the stars. And I completely drifted away in the moments that he wrote those calculations on the chalk board.
The moment that I glided out occurred sometime last week. I'm afraid I haven't returned to earth since then.
