Mary van Balen

While in Pittsburgh visiting the Carnegie Museum of Natural History, I enjoyed the exhibit, "Read My Pins," a display of over 200 of Madeleine Albright's collection of pins and photographs of her wearing them as she conferred with world leaders. Ms. Albright, it seems, used the pins to alert those she met to her mood, purpose, or hope. It began after Saddam Hussein's government controlled media called her an "unparalleled serpent" after she criticized the leader. The next time she met with him, she wore a snake pin, a symbol of new life, though I doubt that was the message she was sending.

She mixed whimsy with pointed commentary, wearing pins of everything from flowers and dragonflies to wasps and American eagles. She wore a large zebra pin that lay across her shoulder when she met with Nelson Mandela, in honor of his homeland, and a trio of "see no evil, here not evil, speak no evil" when she conferred with Putin, who took offense.

The use of jewelry for more than the sparkle it adds to one's attire is not reserved to Madeleine Albright, though she may have raised it to a new level. Engagement and wedding rings give testament to marriage. High school or college class rings declare an allegiance to a particular time in one's life and a particular place of learning. Hardly "jewelry," the rash of colored plastic bracelets proclaim everything from one's faith to one's favorite causes to all who notice.

I have often worn jewelry to remind me of people, places, and relationships. They have become what Catholics call "sacramentals," things that remind us of God and help us to experience that Holy Presence with us.  Read More 

PHOTOS: from ASTRONOMY - SKY MAP: ASTRONOMY, ROEN KELLY

The last meteor shower of the year is visible late this Sunday, Dec 13 into early Monday morning. Optimum viewing time is midnight EST. The new moon will not offer any interference, so if the sky is clear, step out, look up (Gemini is the source of the shower, just left of Orion), and enjoy.

These showers remind me of my small place in creation and the glorious cosmos of which I see only an infinitesimal speck. As Christmas approaches, looking to the night sky seems somehow appropriate. Wise men from the east followed wonders in the night sky to find the child, Jesus.

Perhaps, gazing into the depths of the universe will lead us to ponder the wonder of the incarnation and Maker who came to reveal our capacity for sharing in Divine glory.  Read More 

LINK A great article about Abraham Lincoln and the Leonid Shower. A MUST READ from November 1999 issue of Sky and Telescope "Astronomy Magazine article on this years Leonid Meteor Shower" "How Stuff Works" explains meteors and the Leonids>

Picture that accompanies "Sky and Telescope" article on Abraham Lincoln and the Leonids, November 1999.

This year's Leonid meteor shower might be spectacular. The moon will be new so not much interference there. The Leonids peak in predawn sky Nov. 16 into 17. I will call my friend and hope we can sit atop her grassy roof once again to enjoy the show! Click on the link about Abraham Lincoln and the Leonid Shower. It is a wonderful story, and as a sideline, shows what treasures have been preserved because people wrote letters.  Read More 

LINKS Sky and Telescope: The magazine's sky observation news Spaceweather: Information on all types of "sky events"


Photo: Pierre Martin, Ottawa, Canada


After having a birthday dinner with my sister and brother-in-law, I drove out of town to spend the night with a friend who lives in the country. She has an unusual home built of concrete and partially covered by a grassy mound of earth that forms part of the roof. That is where we would spend the night: meteor watching.

The Orionid meteor shower is the result of the earth moving through the tail of Halley’s Comet. This year the show coincided with a cloudless autumn night and Melanie and I were going to enjoy it.

She made some popcorn and I opened a bottle of wine to share. We talked until 12:30am came around, and when it did, we walked upstairs and out the double doors that led onto the roof. The sky was magnificent. Even without meteors, the sight was breathtaking. The absence of light from a big city enabled us to enjoy tiny bits of light that covered the sky like luminous dust, a backdrop for familiar constellations. We sat in silence, our necks bent back against the cold aluminum frames of the lawn chairs, waiting.

“I think we might be a little early,” I said after a half-hour had passed. Some clouds were beginning to move in.

“Why don’t we go to bed for a few hours and get up around 4:30?” Melanie suggested.

We did, and when the alarm rang I slowly pulled myself out of bed, put on a jacket and hat Melanie had laid out for me and walked back out on the roof. She was already there, and her dog, Maddie, resting at her feet, looked up at me with eyes that seemed to say, “What are you two doing on the roof at 5am?”

I settled into the chair and Melanie handed me a blanket.

“I love these big old wool blankets.”

So do I. Unlike newer synthetic ones, their weight as well as their warmth is a comfort. I looked at the sky. Orion had moved and was standing straight, looking as if he were guarding the house. I smiled. Orion was my friend, the one I looked for when I went to bed late or got up on a sleepless night. No matter where I was, he was there, a nighttime companion.

Only a few minutes passed before we saw our first meteor, streaking across the sky from Orion’s direction. They came every few minutes. I thought about the grassy roof under my feet and the small planet that held us. We were a speck, hurtling through space and pushing our way through the dust and debris of a comet’s tail. I pulled the blanket tighter.

“It’s colder out here,” Melanie said.

I looked up. Not a cloud in sight. We marveled at the difference clouds make, holding heat closer to our planet.

Eventually more time passed between meteor sightings. We were colder. Unwrapping our blankets and folding up the chairs we made our way back into the house. Melanie brewed hot tea and served toast slathered with jam she had made from berries that grew wild on her property. We shared a pear picked from a tree in her yard.

Earth. Sky. Friendship. Bountiful Presence. It was more grace than I could hold.  Read More