March 16

After sunset last evening, we went to a high knoll on the north side of Anna Maria’s campus, just south of a break line of cherry trees that marks the edge of the farm. From here, it was possible to see the western horizon without being obstructed by tree line.

The waxing crescent was just a sliver, like the Cheshire Cat perhaps 15 degrees above the horizon, set in a twilight zone that went from pink below to deepening blue-black as the sky ascended. As we often get in the winter months, when the sky is free of clouds, it was crystal clear with no humidity.

We had hoped to catch a glimpse of the fading comet, supposedly just 10 degrees to the west of the crescent moon, though we were warned that it had receded far enough from Earth’s view to make it faint. So we waited and waited, scanning the sky with field glasses trying to discern the wispy tail set against the deepening black sky.

In the end, no such luck, yet the sky itself was resplendent with stars that seemed to awaken by the thousands. Jupiter shown brightly nearly overhead, and as we stood and watched the heavens, the bird song and breeze of the evening were around us.