So, first, the experience. Away at a meeting of Movement for Christian Democracy at Scargill House deep in the middle of the Yorkshire Dales perhaps two decades ago. Winterish, but with a wind and rain cleaned sky. Good meetings during the day and a walk along the valley about a mile to the small hamlet of Kettlewell to the pub. I was delayed and set out after the main party, or tried to. It was so dark, no moon, it was impossible to see your feet. So that was why they made a fuss about a torch. It was a step at a time, a sober drunk. But you could not look down. Overhead was the Milky Way a totally new view to my light polluted eyes, the biggest spectacle of our lives. You could see a trillion km of stars and gas clouds stretched out. It was unforgettable.

I tried a painting of a galaxy, black with a very little indigo. Checked colours with Derek our church astronomer, but it failed, not enough patience, too crude. Will bin it in the big clearout. So the sonnet is there, and no painting. But, I thought, if a photo is better than a painting, include a photo. But most of the photos, to get the remote light in, pick up a lot of light pollution. They are quite disappointing, hundreds of them. So no photo. Just remember what you have seen, but not in London

BIG UNIVERSE.
So cold, beneath the wide star studded black
This God created universe, this one,
With Catherine milky wheel diagonal,
Here in its edge, one little galaxy,
All smudges in this vast immensity,
Expanding from the first great divine “Yes”,
When everything was sorted as is now,
We live and look at twinkles in the sky.
This is not ours. We have a little share,
No rent, but clouds and rain and moon rich sleep.
To you-ward only can our lives make sense,
To come and go like charmed particles,
Good as you warm our souls to look beyond
And know ourselves eternal stayed in you.