Psalm 8 is one of the reflective shepherd psalms. One can only imagine, in these days of light polluted skies, spending the night in complete darkness, no light except for fire and candle. For the shepherd there would be isolation from most of that.
As David looks up into the skies, the only instrument his eyes, he still senses the immensity of the universe. "When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—the moon and the stars you have set in place—what are mortals that you should think of us, mere humans that you should care for us?" Since we don't see dark skies anymore, it's hard to relate to this.
It wasn't always that way--even in our recent past. I grew up in the mid-1950s in a suburb of Los Angeles. I remember skies so dark that the Milky Way seemed to be bright enough to cast a shadow. This inspired a nascent interest in the skies that would grow into an abiding love of astronomy. If I'd been 10 years younger this may not have happened.
Around 1960, a paint store moved in two blocks northeast of our house. Its huge neon sign "Hughe's Paints" lit up our eastern sky in a 24/7 faux dawn. What was, at first, fascinating became a burden thereafter. When I got my first telescope I had to point it to parts west to avoid the light polution. "Hughe's Paints" was the harbinger of permanently polluted skies as many other signs went up, bright streetlights were placed on every corner, and the ever-present LA haze magnified and diffused the glow, slowly blocking out all but the moon, planets, and brightest stars.
The stars are still there. With the advent of reasonably priced telescopes and hyper-sensitive CCD cameras, a dedicated amateur can photographically record things that would have stunned the psalmist. You have to go a distance, though, to see these things with the equipment God gave you at birth.
Early on, I made sure that my granddaughter had the chance to see the REAL sky. Her great-grandmother used to live in the remote Sierra Nevadas, at 8,500 feet. Emily got to see the real sky there--including meteorites, a bolide, and the shadow-casting, awe-inspiring Milky Way.
She and I now spend some time in my rooftop observatory (Emilie's Loft), and look for stars the hard way. Once you've seen what the psalmist saw, it creates a hunger--a hunger to see what's there, a hunger to know the One who put it there.
Tom
Photos below are of (left) the Rosette Nebula, found near Orion, and (right) the Flame and Horsehead Nebulae, found next to the leftmost star in Orion's belt. Photos taken from Emily's Loft, copyright, Tom Gray, 2005.
