KEEP looking right above that tree and you’ll begin to see it in a minute,’ says Reg Guille, secretary of the Sark Astronomy Society. I follow where his hand is pointing to a lazuline patch of night sky. Slowly, a pin-prick of light emerges and gradually gets brighter until it is nearly as bright as the moon. It is moving slowly but determinedly across the great expanse of stars above us. ‘That’s the International Space Station,’ Mr Guille says with all the excitement of a seven-year-old having found a piece of missing Lego. I watch in awe with the huddle of other astro-enthusiasts standing shoulder-to-shoulder in Sark’s shed-like observatory at the end of a hayfield. ‘It’s travelling at a little more than 17,000 miles per hour. They might be able to make out the lights of St Peter Port in Guernsey if they look out the window —but they won’t see us because we are dark.’
Ten years ago, in the autumn of 2011, Sark became the world’s first designated Dark Sky Island. There are no cars, so, when darkness falls, it isn’t broken by street lighting or vehicle headlights and the population of about 550 people know not to direct any outdoor lights up into the firmament. ‘We are coming up for our 10-year anniversary,’ notes Mr Guille. ‘Each year, we have to submit paperwork to prove we remain dark.’ That’s not a hard task because things don’t change fast on Sark, which operated a feudal system of government as recently as 2008 and has a tractor-drawn fire engine and ambulance. Stumbling out of the observatory, I notice a hedgehog curled up in the grass by my bicycle. As I turn on my bike light to get a closer look, I wince: my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. I cycle off with the light transforming the dark path into shades of grey, like a pencil drawing.
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
Tales as old as time
By appointing writers-in-residence to landscape locations, the National Trust is hoping to spark in us a new engagement with our ancient surroundings, finds Richard Smyth
Do the active farmer test
Farming is a profession, not a lifestyle choice’ and, therefore, the Budget is unfair
Night Thoughts by Howard Hodgkin
Charlotte Mullins comments on Moght Thoughts
SOS: save our wild salmon
Jane Wheatley examines the dire situation facing the king of fish
Into the deep
Beneath the crystal-clear, alien world of water lie the great piscean survivors of the Ice Age. The Lake District is a fish-spotter's paradise, reports John Lewis-Stempel
It's alive!
Living, burping and bubbling fermented masses of flour, yeast and water that spawn countless loaves—Emma Hughes charts the rise and rise) of sourdough starters
There's orange gold in them thar fields
A kitchen staple that is easily taken for granted, the carrot is actually an incredibly tricky customer to cultivate that could reduce a grown man to tears, says Sarah Todd
True blues
I HAVE been planting English bluebells. They grow in their millions in the beechwoods that surround us—but not in our own garden. They are, however, a protected species. The law is clear and uncompromising: ‘It is illegal to dig up bluebells or their bulbs from the wild, or to trade or sell wild bluebell bulbs and seeds.’ I have, therefore, had to buy them from a respectable bulb-merchant.
Oh so hip
Stay the hand that itches to deadhead spent roses and you can enjoy their glittering fruits instead, writes John Hoyland
A best kept secret
Oft-forgotten Rutland, England's smallest county, is a 'Notswold' haven deserving of more attention, finds Nicola Venning