Time flies, and it’s hard to believe it was one year ago that I launched myself headlong into the blogosphere.
I’ve no regrets. So far, it’s been a grand experience for me, both as a writer and a night sky explorer. It is, however, a labor of love (and late nights), so I especially want to thank the folks who took the time to post comments, as well as the people in my networks who gave me feedback. Your support spurs me on!
As I'm now devoting more energy to writing my book, “Naked Eye: Easy Stargazing On the Go,” I will of necessity be streamlining my blog format a bit. I’m still tossing around ideas of what that will look like. Nothing is set in stone.
If you have any format ideas or any topics you’d like to see covered in my blog, I’m open to considering all suggestions. Just email them to me at: earthgrazer(at)gmail(dot)com.
I’m excited about what lies ahead: 2009, the International Year of Astronomy, an anniversary of much greater significance than mine.
Four hundred years after the trailblazing Italian astronomer Galileo first turned a telescope skyward, an astonishing number of adults and children don’t know that the Milky Way is our home galaxy, don’t know that the Sun is a nuclear reactor (or a star), don’t know the reason for Earth’s seasons. Astronomers, educators, science writers and bloggers: we have our work cut out for us.
In his keynote address at the Enchanted Skies Star Party this past September, Dave Eicher, editor of Astronomy magazine, noted that Generation Y hasn’t gotten into astronomy yet. He further elaborated that this is a worldwide trend. Generation Y is loosely defined as those currently aged 16 to 27.
How can we bridge this generation gap? How do we inject the passion for astronomy into youth, and the passion of youth into astronomy? How will we ensure that amateur astronomy doesn’t stagnate into a parochial playground of white, middle-aged, high-income men?
These are questions about the future worth pondering as we mark the quadricentennial of the astronomical telescope, an instrument whose name, after all, was derived from the Greek word for far-seeing.