Well, technically, most of the stuff we see is still around today. You'd need a powerful telescope like Hubble to actually see the distant points of light that are long, long dead.

But on that subject, I'm going to talk to you about supernovas. Because, quite some time ago, in ancient Japanese history I believe, in their records, for a period of about two weeks, there was no nightfall. Eternal day for two weeks. The only recorded supernova in human history, ever witnessed.

And at that point the original star was already dead.

So, today I'd like to talk to you about Betelgeuse. This is, for some reason, the only star I remember. Probably because it's the star I first learned about beyond our own. In the middle of orions belt, a great red supergiant, impossibly enormous compared to our own little star. This star is what sparked my fascination with the sky.

And this star is dying. It might even be dead in fact. Because astronomers have been watching it. And in fluctuations in light, they can tell, that at some point in time, Betelgeuse was going through it's dying stages. So, sometime, in the near future, the second recorded and viewed supernova will be seen by human eyes.

And for that I am happy. To see the light, of a star, from 430 light years away, something so enormous and powerful, a light so bright that from 430 light years away we'll have a period of no darkness, because a second sun will be in our sky. The after image of a dead star.

Imagine that. In death, so much power is released, that from that far away, even across all that space and that void, light will shower us like a second sun. And, in a way, it's sad. Because that's the last I'll ever see of that star. That will be the last light I ever see, from the middle star in the constellation of Orion the Hunter, a constellation that has been known to human kind for centuries, a constellation that has been known to me, for approximatly 17 years of my life.

All those years, all those millenia, that the super red giant Betelguise endured, to finally wink out of existance.

A moment, so small, and so precise, that had I not been born at the time I was, I might not be around to see the death of it. I might not know about it to appreciate what my eyes will see.

But there's a funny part to it too.

I'll get to watch the final moments of this star, the last light it ever produced, pass me by, before it winked out of existance. Very much, like my life. You burn bright and proud, and then, like a candle, you blow out in the dark.

But in both regards, you leave something behind. For a star, it's the power and raw fuel to bring to life more stars. And with your life you leave behind your actions which will shape the future to come. Shape the lives of countless people around you, give life to fond memories, to good days, to smiles and moments that can never be replicated in time again.

Very much, like the last light of this childhood star of mine.

Specifically the Winter night sky.

I love the night sky.
Specifically the Winter night sky.

Summer stars are too warm and the moon isn't as vibrant.
The cold stars and bright moon, that's a sight that amazes me.

Quote from: TailBlue on November 08, 2014, 11:24:19 AM

I love the night sky.
Specifically the Winter night sky.

Summer stars are too warm and the moon isn't as vibrant.
The cold stars and bright moon, that's a sight that amazes me.

Clear summer late evenings you could consider almost the best. The moons light blocks out a lot of light from stars. Summer is the best time for seeing our galaxy, as well.