Woods Wanderer

I’m pleased to announce that The Impossible Cosmos is now in print. I received the first shipment of books yesterday and wasted no time making it available at the Wood Thrush Books website. It is also available at Amazon as both a paperback and an ebook.

Some of you have been listening to me talk about the cosmos for over a decade, ever since I got serious about astronomy and acquired a 4.5-inch Newtonian telescope. Well, here’s the whole story, from my first gaze skyward to crazed galaxy hunting. Plenty of speculation about the universe, as well – both mine and those of priests, philosophers and scientists since the beginning of civilization.

Space is the ultimate wilderness. It is Nature on a grand scale. In my longstanding quest to understand our place in the natural world, it only made sense that I would eventually turn skyward. What’s surprising is how quickly and easily I found my inner geek in the process.

For those of you who are waiting for another hiking narrative, I’m sorry to disappoint. At one point in this book I am silly enough to haul my telescope into the mountains for better viewing, but most of the action takes place in my back yard.

Here’s everything you always wanted to know about the cosmos but were afraid to ask. A good place to start, anyhow. My narrative stretches from the constellations to the latest developments in astrophysics. Fun stuff, if you don’t mind having your head explode every once in a while. So then, if you’re up for it, check out my book.

Tags: amateur astronomy, astronomy, cosmology, cosmos, night sky

Yesterday I finished writing the cosmos book. I’ve been hard at work on the last draft of it for a couple months now. A year ago I pulled the manuscript from storage, where it had been languishing since 2005. A quick perusal convinced me that the manuscript was worth finishing and eventually publishing even though it’s not the kind of thing one expects from a nature writer. What can I say? Sometimes passion trumps practicality.

The cosmos is nature on the grand scale. With a 4.5-inch telescope, a little help from astronomy books and the Internet, I have wandered through the night sky for years, frequently visiting spiral galaxies, nebulas and other mind-blowing phenomena. These wanderings have fueled my wildest speculations about the nature of the universe and our place in it.

Whenever I tramp through the woods, I marvel at the dance of order and chaos that is wild nature. Whenever I spend enough time alone in the forest, I feel that wildness emerge from deep within me. Now I see that same wildness in the swirl of galaxies millions of light years away. It is all connected

No doubt those of you familiar with my work can see where I’m going with this. Back from the cosmos, I’m headed for that ethereal realm where mystics, philosophers and theologians spend their days. I’m already deep in it, actually. The path between cosmology and God-talk is a short one. But don’t worry. I’ll keep at least one foot on the ground. I’ll step away from my mad speculations long enough this winter to self-publish the Maine hiking narrative that so many of you have been waiting for. Above all else, I want to keep it real.

Tags: cosmology, cosmos, nature, pantheism, wildness

Late May, when the world is all green and flowers are blooming, seems like a lousy time of year to immerse oneself in cosmic abstractions. Only a fool would venture deep into space and philosophical speculations about the nature of the universe while a balmy breeze is caressing the moist earth. I am guilty as charged.

A little over a month ago, I pulled out my cosmos manuscript, mothballed for eight years, and started revising it. I’m about three-fourths of the way through that process now, having worked like a madman on it early each morning as robins sing mindlessly outside my window. It’s a passion out of sync with the season, I must confess.

Though few people see it that way, I consider my mad scribblings about cosmology a form of nature writing. After all, the universe is the ultimate wilderness where the nature of things plays out on a grand scale. It seems silly to me to discuss the meaning and purpose of our lives here on this planet without considering the big picture. All the same, I look forward to being a little more down to earth in the near future getting all sweaty, dirty and bug-bitten again in deep woods. Just have to wrap up this draft first.

Tags: astronomy, cosmology, nature writing, wilderness

The urge to further explore the cosmos is coming back to me. When the night sky is clear, I can’t help but look skyward and marvel at the universe. Not long ago, I pulled out my binoculars and revisited the Andromeda Galaxy. More recently, I went to the Astronomy Picture of the Day website and checked out the incredible photos there. I think it’s time to crack open some cosmology books, dust off my telescope, and let the cogs in my head whirl about once again.

I reviewed my cosmos manuscript the other day, clicking into it after a short round of writing. What I found there got me thinking. It’s pretty good for being an early draft. Why not finish it?

I abandoned the cosmos manuscript years ago. At that time I couldn’t justify putting a year of work into something that would be difficult to market. After all, I’m no expert in the field. But I have a passion for the subject and that’s reason enough to finish the book. Besides, I am ready to have my mind blown again.

Cosmology is not for the faint of heart. The wild universe, hidden in plain sight, undermines any complacent understanding of things. Do not go there if you like having your feet planted firmly in some comfortable worldview. I have delved deep into the matter only to have my head explode, time and again. It’s intellectually thrilling yet exhausting. If you have ever pondered the big bang, red shifts, black holes, or dark matter, then you know what I’m talking about.

Unlike most people with a scientific bent, I do not look skyward and say, “God is dead.” On the contrary, I find in the night sky affirmation that we live in an ordered universe, that it is not all chaos and random occurrences. One look at a spiral galaxy is proof enough to me that some organizing force is at work. Gravity alone defies chance.  But what is really going on out there? Like I said, the subject isn’t for the faint of heart… or the simple minded.

Tags: astronomy, cosmology, metaphysics, nature, religion, science

Sometimes I head to the mountains to escape my thoughts.  Other times I take my intellectual baggage with me.  The other day was a good example of the latter.

Even as the rush of the mountain stream filled my ears, and the intoxicating smell of autumn leaves tickled my nose, I brooded over a comment made by a world-renowned physicist a week or two earlier.  He had said that a Creator was not necessary, that the universe could have arisen spontaneously from nothing.  I immediately scoffed at the notion, but it ate away at me regardless.

Order or chaos – it all comes down to that, doesn’t it?  Either the universe is organized according to certain immutable laws, or all events are essentially random.  Recent cosmological discoveries point to a Big Bang occurring 13.7 billion years ago, to a singular event giving birth to the universe as we know it, thereby ruling out the possibility that things are now as they have always been.  But that leaves the non-religious thinker no choice but to embrace utter randomness.  And that’s a tough pill to swallow.

Order or chaos?  While fly fishing a mountain stream, I see plenty of both.  All around me there are downed trees, rotting wood, and the quiet tumult of growth and decay, yet the leaves overhead are turning gold, completing a cycle set in motion many centuries ago.  Rocks are strewn about haphazardly, as are twigs and branches, yet the stream itself follows the inexorable tug of gravity.  Is wild nature ordered or chaotic?  A good argument can be made either way.

A small brown trout rose to my showy fly, an Ausable Wulff, then all was quiet for a while.  When I spotted a cloud of tiny, slate gray mayflies hovering over the water, I changed to another fly – one called a Blue-winged Olive – that better matched the hatch.  I was betting that the hungry mouths beneath the water’s surface would know the difference.  This bet didn’t escape the philosopher in me.  I was betting on natural order and was not disappointed.  Several trout splashed to the surface, chasing my tiny gray fly.  Unfortunately, I didn’t have the eyes to see my offering on the water so I missed the strikes, leaving all matters philosophical unresolved.

Shortly thereafter, I resorted to my showy A. Wulff, which is much easier to see.  I soon hooked and landed a ten-inch brook trout.  It didn’t make any sense, really.  You’d think a big, old brookie would know better than to rise to something that looks as out of place as an A. Wulff.  Clearly Mother Nature was making fun of me, mocking my assumptions.  Or maybe we just don’t have enough information to really know what’s going on around us.  I laughed long and hard at that, while returning the trout to the drink.  There’s always a rationalization, isn’t there?

Tags: brook trout, cosmology, fly fishing, mountain stream, order and chaos, philosophy, random universe, wild nature