Fantastic Friday: planetary alignment

Today, February 28, 2025, is a planetary alignment, in which 7 planets—Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune—appear on the same side of the sun, allowing us to view them all (mostly) by eye (or telescope).

Several people asked if I was going to take a picture, since I have been known to take pictures of sky events, such as the October 2024 aurora, comets, or the Milky Way. I’m happy to take pictures to share, and I’m glad my pictures bring joy to others, but there is something about being out there in the world, looking up at the sky, that just can’t be communicated in a picture.

Earlier this fall, my daughter and I were able to see this streak of Comet Tsuchinshan–ATLAS with the naked eye, and we set up my camera to document the image. The picture is cool—sure, a comet—but what I remember more is watching my daughter look up at the sky and realize how much is out there than appears in everyday life.

A picture of my daughter looking for the comet earlier this past fall.

The comet, captured from our driveway.

When the aurora appeared at dinnertime here in the South on that amazing day in October, I ran outside, telling my family I would report if I saw anything. But when it turned out to be way more amazing than I could have imagined, I was too afraid to run inside. What if the aurora were short-lived and this was all I got? What if I took a moment to send a text and missed the chance to capture it with my camera? I ultimately did sprint into the house to retrieve the rest of my family, and I ended up staying out from that evening until past 1 in the morning, despite them all going to bed and me having to work in a few hours.

An improbable, but possible, occurrence: the Aurora Borealis appearing in the South in October, captured from my yard.

It’s hard to explain, the feeling that there is just you and the universe, and as the observer of the universe’s magic, you are somehow contributing to it. If you weren’t there, the magic would be different. The universe in that particular slice of space is performing for you.

As the planets moved into alignment in the days leading to February 28, I was reminded of one of my favorite childhood movies, The Dark Crystal. In it, a “great conjunction” of three suns marks the deadline by which the hero must heal the world, lest evil reign forever. I don’t think there’s anything inherently magical in an alignment of planets, or suns, or a comet. It’s the event in itself—a unique coincidence of conditions, like winning the lottery—being observed that creates the magic. The event is not likely, it’s not probable, but it is possible.

My love for night sky photography started during the pandemic with the comet NEOWISE. Like many, probably, I kept asking myself, why was I born during this time, to live through a pandemic, to have to do my job and teach my kids simultaneously all from home, to field all the fear and change. When NEOWISE appeared and I learned the magic that a simple DSLR camera can capture, my mind shifted. Like the characters in Ray Bradbury’s “The Pedestrian,” most people were inside, worried about emails, enraging through the news or escaping through shows, washing dishes or vacuuming. Above them, unknown to most, a comet raced by, providing a short glimpse of the universe’s mysteries. It was Janie’s vision under the pear tree. It was Gatsby’s green light. It was a sign that there could be something more.

Things are happening all the time. People have lived through world wars, holocausts, personal victories and woes, changing administrations, new ideas disrupting the norm. In ancient civilizations, people lived through things we may never discover. But when I stand on my yard in the darkness of night, a camera or binoculars in my hand, I feel tall and tiny all at once. I feel the curve of the Earth beneath me, the bend of the atmosphere above. I am reminded that I am stardust, brought by an improbable but possible set of coincidences to this particular place in this particular time; and as part of the universe, I am a speck of its magic—and all those who check to see if I got a picture of the latest celestial event, or those who are reading these words, the magic is changed because of you, and you are part of it, too.