I set up my telescope, focusing on the evening’s highlight: Saturn. Meanwhile, my colleague aimed his telescope at Vega, a bright star positioned high in the sky. Though we had only two objects in our lineup, each had a story.
As the families trickled in, my counterpart welcomed the first few kids to his telescope. Vega didn’t reveal much detail; stars, even seen through a telescope, tend to look like brighter versions of themselves. But my colleague was well prepared to share Vega’s story. He explained that it was about 25 light-years away and described what that distance meant—light that had left Vega 25 years ago was only just now reaching us.
One parent chuckled when I described Saturn as being in our neighborhood, but compared to the stars, it’s true. If our solar system was a suburban street, Saturn would be just a few houses down, while Vega would be in another city. I could see faces light up as they grasped the concept.
When I set up my telescope at a public event, my goal is to provide a sense of context, a way to connect what we see with what we know. Space is staggeringly vast, and without relatable measurements, it's hard to grasp. When someone looks through a telescope at a distant star or planet, I hope to give them more than just a view—I hope to give them a way to connect with what they’re seeing. That night, I believe the scouts and their families found a bit of that connection.
Photo by NASA, ESA, A. Simon (GSFC), M.H. Wong (University of California, Berkeley), and the OPAL Team. 12 September 2019. https://science.nasa.gov/asset/hubble/saturn-2019/