Sands and Stars

While it appears to be a nice late autumn day in my native Western Pennsylvania, it doesn't compare to those spring and summer days of childhood spent along the Slippery Rock and Connoquenessing creeks. And what would spark these far-flung memories on a Thanksgiving Day as I sit in Florida? Well, an unintentional search of the Internet that evoked a thankful heart for what I'd had in my past, of course. I don't know who to praise for the following photos – I discovered them by accident. They certainly have brought me miles of smiles! In the first, we get a canoe view of The Point – what we from the Ellwood City, Pa., area called the spot where the Slippery Rock empties into the Connoquenessing. That's The Point itself, that rock that juts into the waters as we look upstream into the Slippery Rock. What a great fishing area for young boys and adult anglers alike! The water here is said to be quite deep. I've never been able to discern its true depth, but in a boyhood

Some of the most enjoyable days in life are the ones that are unexpected. I had a delightful moment earlier this afternoon when I talked to a Korean War veteran and his son in the local grocery store.  Front page of a Pittsburgh newspaper on the day of the Korean armistice. Our chance meeting has had me smiling ever since. As I always do when I see someone wearing a Korean veteran hat, I stopped and thanked him for his service. You see, I was born on July 27, 1953 -- the date of the armistice that was meant to stop the fighting. My birthdate is one reason I never forget the Korean vets. This gentleman was beyond delightful. He smiled when I told him my birthday tidbit, and he took my hand. He said in a gruff and laborious voice, "Why, I'm 93 years old now!"  I wish I knew more about him, but our meeting was too brief in the packed grocery store aisle. Before we departed, I told him that my father-in-law was a Korean War veteran. That caused my new friend to give me one fi

Never does Veterans Day pass without me spending an inordinate amount of time thinking of my maternal grandfather, Thomas John Gray (1894–1934). Veterans Day after World War I was celebrated as Armistice Day. I honor both references to this important day deeply in my heart. I loved him, though I never met him, since he died nearly two decades before my birth in 1953. But, oh, what an astronomical impact he's had on my life, and that of my daughters and yes, even my granddaughter, Layla. You see, Thomas was a veteran of World War I. My grandfather fought overseas in that war and was injured in battle. Think about that – he was injured in battle. His death years later was attributed to wounds from the war. Much to our glee, as you can understand, Thomas survived long enough to have a daughter – my mother, Dorothy – in 1920. It's clear that if Thomas had not survived the war, and if he had not been strong enough in the final years of his life, that I would not exist. Nor my chil

Like a speeding freight train, it’s easy to hear, see and feel it coming and passing. We’re about to . . . fall back. And that’s much to the chagrin of a loud legion of foes. At 2 a.m. Sunday, Nov. 6, 2022, Daylight Saving Time comes to a crashing end for most Americans (and some others). It’s said that “we gain an hour.” Nonetheless, so very many people are vociferous adversaries of this change. They want to stop this biannual switch of our timepieces. And DST seems to be favored over year-long Standard Time. I’m not going to argue for or against this proposal . 🙊 But I’d like you to take a look at some, uh, timely information, before you decide. Consider this news report about making DST permanent : In March, the Senate unanimously voted to pass the Sunshine Protection Act, which would make Daylight Saving Time permanent. If the bill passes the House, where it’s currently “held at desk,” as there’s a similar legislation under consideration—and is signed into law by president Joe Bid

November is here, and I'm about to get astronomical on you! Let's say you received a new pair of binoculars for your recent birthday. No doubt you're anxious to use them to survey earthbound scenes, but especially grand celestial vistas after sundown. Well, get ready for Orion and company!  Make your plans now! The king of the winter skies: Orion. Fact is, most people recognize the constellation we sometimes called the Great Hunter. He's one of my favorites; likely one of yours, too. At this time of year, the big guy starts to rise around 11 p.m. local time, club in hand as he chases his nocturnal prey. But as winter draws nigh, Orion will become visible earlier and earlier, soon to dominate the nighttime sky. So let's use our imagination to help find some of his neighbors who are grand sights in your binoculars (whether they're brand new or not). Take a look at Orion's belt, those three stars aligned across his middle. They're named, from left to righ