Venus and Jupiter are aligned; some say this particular proximity is the same arrangement that, 2000+ years ago, created the effect that was seen as the 'Star of Bethlehem'. Cool, eh?
Or not, when you're hitting 100+ degrees in Salt Lake City in JUNE. With no air conditioning. And a storm rolls in the night of the pinnacle of the alignment.
Just barely under a year ago I moved into this condo, and by August it was so hot (even with a portable AC unit) that I wasn't really sleeping. This wasn't the entirety of my problems, but it did contribute to my losing my job that month. And now the heat wave is two months early... The job I have now is so much better, but I'm already feeling the lack of sleep.
Still, I was determined to at least try to see the alignment of the planets. Living in the Avenues in Salt Lake City. you find that there are too many trees to see the sky clearly - so I drove UP. There's a park above the Salt Lake City Cemetary that overlooks the valley, and I headed there to find the gates locked. (I wonder whose job it is to go around and lock park gates, presumably after kicking people out of the parking lot. Huh.) As I mentioned before, it's a strange night - there's been a stiff breeze for much of the afternoon that hasn't alleviated the heat, and a cloud bank has settled around the Salt Lake Area. Up above Ensign Peak and further north there's a lightning storm kicking up in clouds that look too dingy and flimsy to support the energy. The Valley is covered in a haze - it makes me think of Las Vegas in a mild dust storm. Oddly, even with the breeze, none of the clouds are moving - I've never seen them hold so still in front of the moon, or make no progress at all across the sky, while standing in a wind. It feels oppressive, eerie, lonely.
At first I could barely see stars, and no Venus or Jupiter. I left my car at the park gates and walked into the lot (glasses on, just in case) with my dinky keychain flashlight. Off to the right above the mountain lighting strobed through clouds, and down below the street lights and occasional electric sign took on a sickly neon glow in the haze. Just behind me the full moon glared dully through its unmoving curtain, but directly overhead there was a clear area where I could just make out the handle of the Big Dipper - though the bowl was obscured by yet another stationary cloud. It was very unsettling, the wind and the heat and the half-dark and shady light... I turned to walk back to my car and the wind blew over a garbage bin back in the barely-visible far end of the lot. I jumped.
Getting to my car I turned back to the sky one last time, and there they were - Venus and Jupiter, just visible through a thinning in the cloud cover. From this angle they didn't seem particularly close; at least, not close enough to be mistaken for one star, but the lineup definitely had a sci-fi, end-of-the-world aura. I didn't bother to try to take a picture.
And now I'm home, and will presently go try again to find some way to cool down enough to sleep. There is no one to tell about the experience - but I wanted to record somewhere that I did go and did manage to see the two planets sharing space in the sky.
And it was a little bit freaky.
