Moon meets Sun and Sun meets Moon: A sky journal research report


Nicole Montag-Keller

This paper reports on what ‘Moon meets Sun and Sun meets Moon’ means to the researcher, noted in a sky journal from end of May till mid July, 2017 at a location in North-Western Switzerland. Qualitative, phenomenological and reflexive research was conducted with a focus on ‘Verstehen’. The methodological approach rendered to exhibit in depth perceptions, thoughts and feelings, showing how factual clarity and intuitive sensations belong to the broad dualities of materiality and spirituality. The research gave way to the understanding of individual identity formation, personal development and self-realisation informed through biography and lived experience. The report offers an expression of a personal cosmology, world-view and attitude by addressing the interrelatedness of a meaning making process: between sky objects, landscape and the researcher at a certain time in a certain place.

Introduction 

The aim of this research is what ‘Moon meets Sun and Sun meets Moon’ means to me and how, as a result of the observation of Moon and Sun, I was influenced, affected and shifted in my lived experience. Since my last name is Montag, I feel emotionally connected to the Moon, but I understand that the sky objects moon and sun express also my understanding of materiality. Additionally, the Moon and the Sun hold symbolic meaning for me, which is highlighted in the course of my own path of life, which this report means to be an expression of the developmental changes and transformation I underwent as a consequence of observing and relating to the Moon. I look into how I construct, what Nicolas Campion termed an ‘individual’s worldview or meaning system’, my personal cosmology, and I also assess whether my research confirms what Freya Matthews suggested, that ‘cosmologies may be self-affirming or not and are conditioned by various aspects of the culture in which they develop’.[1] I conducted qualitative, phenomenological and reflexive research, referring to Charlotte Aull Davies, that ‘informed reflexivity is compatible with, indeed is essential for, both a realist ontology and a commitment to social scientific knowledge in the sense of knowledge that is based in, and can inform us about, a real social world and that is public and open to critical analysis.’[2] Using the content of my sky journal entries, I looked to understand how being me, a person at a certain time in history at a certain place on earth and how relating to Moon and Sun shaped my personal experience as well as my world-view. This view is informed by Terry Eagleton’s definitions of nature and culture, where ‘the word culture shifts from the natural to the spiritual’ giving way to the unification of outer and inner worlds for arriving at what Eagleton suggests  is ‘self-realisation’, knowing oneself by understanding oneself. [3]

Academic rationale

Since I was born with the last name ‘Montag’, translated as ‘the day of moon’ according to the Oxford Dictionary, the Moon represents my ancestral identity.[4] Next to having an emotional and genetic-material family link, I also refer to the Moon as a material sky object nearest to the Earth, which is put forward by Martin Rees who wrote, that the Moon is ‘1.2% of the Mass of Earth, …, geological activity has long since ceased, so it is a lifeless, dusty, and dead world.’[5] Furthermore the Moon also holds symbolic meaning for me, which is put forward by Hajo Banzhaf (1949-2009), a German astrologer, who attributes to the Moon the heavenly and the earthly mother figure.[6] Additionally I perceive the Moon’s nature as an indicator of time, described by Caryad, Thomas Römer and Vera Zingsem, where exterior life cycles are governed from full moon to full moon, called a sidereal month seen from earth (27.3 days) and a synodic month of 29.5 days in going round the sun.[7] Not only does the Moon indicate time, but is the heavenly body expressing constant change, which has a further impact on inner life cycles such as menstruation and influences on the psyche. As Hajo Banzhaf suggested in his book about the path of life, the Moon’s rhythm throws a shadow on the sun, called sun eclipse, translated into psychological terms that the repressed unconscious traits of a person come to the surface triggered by the Moon’s cyclical nature.[8] In addition to the Moon I also looked into the role of the Sun in astrological-archetypal and psychological terms. The Sun represents the individual which is on a journey to becoming oneself, by uniting the unconscious with the Ego, as described by Banzhaf, referring to Carl-Gustav Jung’s, model of the three stages for becoming Self. [9] Additionally I put forward Erik Erikson’s, psychological model of eight developmental stages in identity development, which need to be experienced in order to develop ‘a stable, consistent and reliable sense of who we are and what we stand for in the world that makes sense for us and for our community’ introduced by Ann Phoenix in a chapter on embodying identities in order to show, that models vary, but that stages of psychic development need to be undertaken.[10] In contrast I could, how Nicolas Campion expressed it, be a follower of ‘utopianism’, ‘the universal impulse to become one’s self, to live one’s unrealized potential’ instead of living in the present without an idealised future.[11]

In summarising I refer to the Moon expressing my emotional, material, psychological and cyclical aspects of my personality and I refer to the Sun as a symbol of a pathway for becoming one with myself, having consciously developed and integrated my shadows into my identity.

Methodology 


The primary source in this paper is the Moon and the Sun in the sky, which is observed from my study room. For better understanding of how the hillside appears to me, I refer to a snapshot taken in Google Earth (Figure 1).

Figure 1: Nicole Montag-Keller, Snapshot from Google Earth depicting the hilly landscape to the North-West, where the ‘Gempen’ marks the hilltop of the landscape and marks the reference point of my observations, 2017.

As suggested by Sarah Pink, I was using a notebook, called a sky journal, as an auto ethnographic instrument. The research I undertook is qualitative, placing an emphasis on my observations and perception what had happened to my outer and inner worlds.[12] The journaling phase of the project commenced on Thursday, 25th May 2017, a Christian holiday called Ascension Day, and ended 55 days later on Tuesday, 18th July, 2017. I took several pictures with my iPhone camera, and incorporated some pictures taken earlier. I also drew how I saw the Moon and the Sun. These Moon and Sun images capture moments that made an impression on me and unique events such as consciously recognising the morning star Venus for the first time or eye-witnessing the fall of a comet touched me deeply. I will never forget these feelings of joy.

In order to understand how the two sky objects, the Moon and the Sun were observable and what the expression ‘the Moon meets the Sun and the Sun meets the Moon’ meant to me I used reflexive ethnographic research through observation, listening and noting my thoughts, perceptions, feelings and reactions. The chosen methodology bears two issues as Charlotte Aull Davies, author of Reflexive Ethnography, writes ‘that it is self-indulgent and narcissistic, telling us about the ethnographer, not about the social and cultural phenomena that are the proper subject matter of ethnography…’ and that the approach ‘represents a particular Western literary genre, the Great Man tradition, …used to describe individual achievements based on a linear and goal-oriented interpretation of what constitutes a meaningful life.’[13] Aull Davies highlights what could be a serious downside to this research due to my biographical approach, the Sun’s or Hero’s conscious journey towards becoming self. To me, the only resolution of these two issues means that I maintain a constant awareness of my judgemental and self-centredness, both being involved but also detached towards this research as Powdermaker expressed put forward by Aull Davies.[14] Furthermore my primary focus of the research was on Verstehen, that is, I looked into understanding my own perspective, subjectivity, individuality, world-view and cosmology while I was in contact with the research objects, the Moon and the Sun.[15]

Reflexive considerations

I am a white female, in my forties, being home in North-Western Switzerland for more than ten years. I grew up in the Northern part of Baden-Wuerttemberg and moved to the South of Baden-Wurttemberg to pursue third level education and also lived in the nearby Alsace, France. Through the experience of living in different locations and contexts, I express my understanding and awareness of cultural differences.

I studied psychology as an undergraduate degree, because I wanted to understand human behaviour. In the course of these studies, I realised, that I am deeply enmeshed being a co-dependent person. That is, according to Sharon Wegscheider Cruse, a family therapist, I am role-playing ‘The Hero’, meaning that I ‘keep negative feelings to myself, not to make someone angry; express a lot of positive feelings, for winning approval; not talking to outsiders about what happens in the family, because no one would like me, if they knew the truth and because my family affair is just something we don’t talk about’.[16] Through the experience of observing Sun and Moon, I express my understanding of me becoming more myself.

I grew up with a Roman-Catholic faith and though not being a member of any church, I call myself a Christian. In the process of accepting my co-dependency, I learnt to deal with my own pain by addressing a higher spirit.[17] After I moved to North-Western Switzerland, I encountered anthroposophy, a strand of theosophy, which I define as a philosophical framework for the development of spirituality with an emphasis on Christianity. As a consequence I started studying the works of Rudolf Steiner, the founder of anthroposophy. I understand that my Christian belief system and anthroposophical world-view have an effect on how I arrive at meaning in the course of my research.

In concluding I express how my social and cultural surrounding, but also my interest in spirituality shapes my meaning making processes and understanding.

Literature review

The sky journal was my primary source. In order to arrive at meaning and understanding of my simultaneously material and spiritual world-view I drew on Nicolas Campion’s work for how I arrived at my personal cosmology, drew on Freya Mathew’s approach to the ecological self for understanding whether my cosmology self-affirmed or did not self-affirm on how I am shaped by the culture I am part of.[18] The research was informed methodologically by Charlotte Aull Davies, using her approach for doing phenomenological and reflexive ethnography and further focusing my methodological research on Verstehen as suggested by Monique Hennink, Inge Hutter and Ajay Bailey.[19] In constructing my understanding I categorised my research into the broad dualities of materiality and spirituality as put forward by Terry Eagleton. Additionally I referred also to astronomers, astrologers, psychologists and psychoanalysts to inform my research.[20]

Field work and discussion   

My sky journal analysis overview (figure 2) revealed 499 entries, which were subdivided into 15 categories. Eighty-five entries (18%) linked to ‘Erkenntnis / insight’. Followed by ‘feeling’ seventy-four times (15%), then sixty-two times (12%) ‘foto/art’ and fifty-seven times (11%) I allocated ‘question’ to my entries. ‘Unique’ was selected fourty-seven times (9%), ‘Dream’ thirty-seven times (7%), closely followed by ‘knowledge or wisdom’ thirty-six times (7%). ‘Sky, Moon, Sun’ were categorised twenty-eight times (6%), followed by ‘Ordnung/structure’ and ‘meditation’, both twenty times (4%). Two percent of my entries were coded with ‘library’, ‘moral/ethic’ and ‘wish’ and one percent were allotted to ‘thankfulness’ and ‘worries’ respectively. 

Figure 2: Nicole Montag-Keller, Quantitative Keyword Analysis of sky journal entries, indicated by weekday and overall summation, 2017. 
Figure 3: Nicole Montag-Keller, Word cloud on key word entries stemming from my sky journal, 2017.

The word cloud depicted in figure 3 exhibits the most frequently used words by depicting them larger than other key words, which are derived from coding my sky journal in order to find my themes (figure 2). It becomes clear, that my main engagement with the sky was first the Moon, then the Sun, followed by the hilltop ‘Gempen’ reference point, having taken photos of the Moon, having referred to the day itself, having mentioned shadow, having written about reflection and shadow.  

Moon and clouds and Moon as transformer of repressed feelings

On 7th July 2017 I took pictures of the changing expression of the Moon behind clouds (figure 4a) and sketched how I saw the moon (figure 4b) ending up with a note, that ‘the clouds tell the story – they model shapes which turn to associations in my mind!’(figure 4b). The clouds acted like a cloth and made the Moon become an actor on stage. Much in the same way Alexandra Harris put it, when she described Shakespeare who perceived ‘the mind is a theatre, like the sky, in which whole cities can be built up’ or transforming the Moon to an actor.[21]  Moreover for the first time I had written my perception into a drawing, which, on reflecting my experience, might have given way accepting to express my feelings openly for the first time. In retrospect this night represented a turning point in my sky journaling, because on 8th July 2017, at 04:12 a.m. I saw Venus to the East for the first time. I was deeply touched by this encounter and felt a stream of warmth flowing through the upper part of my torso. In the language of the chakra system, I would have termed this an activation of the heart chakra (an invisible energetic vortex over the heart), as put forward by Anodea Judith, being perceived as the energetic centre of the balanced inner female and male Jungian archetypes.[22]

Figure 4a: Nicole Montag-Keller, Photo of the Moon behind clouds on 7th July 2017 at 22:32h, around with red arrow indicating the Gempen, 2017
Figure 4b: Nicole Montag-Keller,Montag-Keller saw the Moon through clouds on 7th July from 22:26-22:36h with red arrow indicating the Gempen, 2017.

Figure 4a: Nicole Montag-Keller, Photo of the Moon behind clouds on 7th July 2017 at 22:32h, around with red arrow indicating the Gempen, 2017; Figure 4b: Nicole Montag-Keller, Artistic expression of how Nicole Montag-Keller saw the Moon through clouds on 7th July from 22:26-22:36h with red arrow indicating the Gempen, 2017.

The observation of the Moon represented a core focus of my sky journaling exercise and a question coming up repeatedly was, ‘what does the moon reflect?’ as written on 1st, 3rd, 4th and 6th July 2017. Answered from a rational and material point of view, the Moon reflects the Sunlight, but answered from a spiritual point of view, the Moon reflected my feeling of sadness as written on 4thJuly 2017 ‘Sadness is here’.[23] As I have written in my reflexive considerations, expressing negative feelings was a challenge to me, but acknowledging them in this report could point out, that on my journey towards becoming myself, the embracing of this shadow side of my personality is a step on my way trending towards a more united experience of my moon aspect related to the female personality attributes and my sun related male attributes as was put forward by Hajo Banzhaf.[24] Accepting my sadness meant that I could experience an inner healing, as a consequence of embracing this shadow, according to Banzhaf and additionally that I could feel less burdened more in peace with myself.[25]

In summarising my­ reflections on the expression of my feelings as a consequence of observing the Moon and asking constantly what the moon reflected to me, as well as sketching the moon on paper as I saw it added by a unique encounter of observing the Venus as a morning star, triggered the release of my repressed feelings. Being persistent in asking what the moon reflected and waiting patiently for the answer, made me feel relieved.

Weather as an experience of the sky 

My feelings mostly related to the weather, expressed by noting my annoyance with high temperatures and my thankfulness about clouds. I did not expect, that I was affected by weather conditions in the way I expressed them. Figure 5 displays the day and night temperatures throughout my sky journaling project, where +25°C mark the beginning of discomfort and any temperatures higher than +30°C were experienced as distress. Overall, I felt discomforted for 19 days and distressed for 21 days. Commenting on my feelings due to the heat, read like ‘warm-hot’ on 10th June, ‘waking up unmotivated’ on 13th June, ‘hot day’ every consecutive day from 16th till 22nd June, ‘having woken bad tempered, because it is far too hot in the room’ and ‘hot-humid’ on 8th July. On 12th July I wrote ‘the sun builds up so much heat, sedating me, benumbing me, making me angry, because I am slowing down. The heat makes me feel depressed. It is impossible to escape that heat.’[26]

Figure 5: Nicole Montag-Keller, Day and night temperatures throughout sky journaling project, where discomfort starts at +25°C and distress at +30°C, 2017.

Reflecting upon my experience I agree with Alexandra Harris’s statement written in ‘Weatherland’, that ‘our thoughts will be affected by the kind of weather we’re in.’[27] I felt the sun’s power as much as Crusoe mentioned in Weatherland, who ‘found on his island, that heat went straight to the head and disrupted his work.’[28]  On 9th July I noted ‘it started to rain, thank God’ which made me aware that I referred to a supernatural entity, a God, who I felt was in charge of rain, bringing relief from the heat.[29] I developed this thought further and found that I unconsciously might have referred to Jupiter, ‘the highest God of the Greek pantheon’, male ‘emperor over the sky, rain god and cloud baler’ as described by Jean Shinoda Bolen in her book ‘Gods in every man’.[30] And by weaving rain and sun together I thought, that the excessive heat might have exhibited the sun God Apollo’s dark side, nature’s destructive quality ascribed to a sky God ruling over nature, which I found also mentioned in Bolen’s book.[31]Interestingly I did not make an association with Thor, the equivalent of Jupiter in Nordic mythology put forward by Banzhaf in his introduction to Astrology pointing out, that my astronomical-cultural reference system is more tied to Greek-Roman mythology.[32]In the night of 1st June 2017 I noted ‘The thunder which came out of the depths of the evolving weather occurrence was very powerful. That was alive. There was something that was angry.’[33] The experience of comparing my bodily experience with having had an encounter with the Thundergod is a vivid memory, because I was walking inside our home, when a bolt came down the sky and I was actually feeling a sizzling voltage going through my body and in my journal I wrote ‘Thunder night and I was being permeated by the bolt’.[34]  With my rational mind, I would argue, that there is no such thing as a God who sends bolts from the sky. Instead I would explain how zones of high and low pressure mix and mingle in the troposphere of the earth.

In summarising my reflections on the weather, I cite Nicolas Campion who put forward, that ‘for pre-modern cultures, the cosmos was interior as much as exterior; it was inside as much as outside us.’[35] My experience with the ongoing high temperatures and feeling as if an angry sky good was sending thunder and bolt towards earth, confirms, that that to me, Sun and Jupiter are not only sky objects, but living entities and that I have a relationship to these rulers of the sky.

Moon as tool for measuring the sky and attributing meaning to a landscape

On 2nd June 2017, while taking pictures of the Moon, I understood, that I needed to stand at exactly the same spot for being able to find differences of the Moon’s pathway in the sky’.[36] Comparing my pictures from March till May (Figures 6a,b,c)  and from June till August (Figures 7a,b,c), for the first time I realised, that the Moon’s rising point shifts on the horizon.

Figure 6a: Nicole Montag-Keller, Moon to the East of the Gempen hilltop (red arrow) on 10th March 2017 at 18:20h, 2017
Figure 6b: Nicole Montag-Keller, Moon to the East of the Gempen hilltop (red arrow) on 11th April  2017 at 21:33h, 2017
Figure 6c: Nicole Montag-Keller, Moon to the South of the Gempen hilltop (red arrow) on 9th May 2017 at 20:22h, 2017.
Figure 7a: Nicole Montag-Keller, Moon to the South of the Gempen hilltop (red arrow) on 8th June 2017 at 21:15h, 2017
Figure 7b: Nicole Montag-Keller, Moon to the South of the Gempen hilltop (red arrow) on 6th July 2017 at 22:23h, 2017
Figure 7c: Nicole Montag-Keller, Moon to the South of the Gempen hilltop (red arrow) on 7th August 2017 at 21:40h, 2017.

From March till May 2017 the Moon rose to the East of the Gempen in comparison to the months of June till August when the Moon rose South of the Gempen hilltop. Upon discovering this phenomenon, I asked myself whether I had found a pattern, which would put the Gempen hilltop into the centre of my personal cosmology. I was even inclined to promoting the Gempen into a sacred landscape, which is put forward by Edwin Bernbaum in his paper on ‘Sacred mountains: themes and teachings’.[37] Bernbaum writes, that ‘as sacred expressions of some deeper reality, mountains have become associated with the deepest and highest values and aspirations of cultures and traditions throughout the world.’[38] Since I singled out the peak called ‘Gempen’, I felt, that I had found a particular place of tradition and sanctity. Unfortunately I could not source literature about the Gempen hilltop in the University library of Basle, but for future reference I will need to figure out how to access the archive of the Canton’s archaeology department for being able to make any definitive statements about the Gempen. In order to support my personal cosmology of the sacredness of the Gempen a little further, I added a picture from September 2016 (Figure 8). 

Figure 8: Nicole Montag-Keller, Moon on top of the Gempen hilltop on 14th September 2017 at 19:32h, 2017.

Figure 8 shows, that on 14th September 2016, the Moon rose over the Gempen hilltop, but I abstain from any further conclusions, because as the astronomer Wolfgang Held wrote in his booklet called ‘Sternkalender’ (star calendar), ‘no monthly run of the Moon is similar to the next’.[39]

In summarising my reflections on the Moon as a tool for measuring the sky and attributing meaning to a landscape I plan to stick with my observations in order to better understand where and when the Moon appears in different stages of its phases over the Gempen hill ridge.

The Moon’s pathway in the sky and recurring eclipses

In the night of 7th July 2017 I sketched three moon shadow movements using the window frame (marked by two orange lines) as the reference object (figure 9a). As Calvin wrote, ‘thanks to the fondness towards windows of new-world archaeoastronomers and towards steles of old-world archaeoastronomers…a plane floor can replace the evenly shaped horizon, if the room has a window or door to the East.’ [40] I used a window frame facing East and sketched three open ended shadows lines; by marking the end point on a horizontal plane, I could apply Calvin’s home methodology to my observations, tracing pathways which eventually will lead me to being able forecasting moon eclipses when taking the summer and winter solstice points into account.

Figure 9a: Nicole Montag-Keller, Using the window frame (orange) to trace the moon shadow movement in the night observation of 7th July 2017, blue shadow at 22:41h, red shadow at 22:51h, green shadow at 23:54h
Figure 9b: Nicole Montag-Keller, Applying geometry to my observations of 7th July 2017 I am able to find, that the Moon’s pathway describes a curve, 2017.

In addition to my earlier mentioned observations, I am inclined to agree with Caryad, Thomas Römer and Vera Zingsem, who wrote in the book ‘Wanderer am Himmel / Planets in the Sky’, that ‘as soon as a group (of people) or community start observing these signs (movement of sun compared to horizon throughout the seasons and the lunar phases) systematically, …, they quickly will observe the cyclical reoccurrence of these sky phenomena and are able to build on these a time measuring system.’[41] I disagree terming this process ‘quickly’, because as William H. Calvin wrote in ‘How the Shaman stole the Moon’, that it takes at least three times 18 years and 11 days, three times a so called ’saros cycle’ in order to predict eclipses. [42] Our prehistoric ancestors, as put forward by Ami Ronnberg in the Book of Symbols, must have feared the extinction of the sun of the light and felt, that demonic powers engulfed the sun when an eclipse occurred.[43] Even today, sun or moon eclipses are making it to the media, such as the solar eclipse of 21st August 2017, being labelled as ‘doomsday’ in the BBC’s internet appearance; see a snapshot in figure 10.[44]

Figure 10: Nicole Montag-Keller, Snapshot of BBC internet appearance as of 14th August 2017, labelling the solar eclipse of 21st August 2017 as ‘doomsday’ and stirring fear, 2017. 

In summarising my reflections on the moon’s pathway in the sky and recurring eclipses, I felt happy, when I was able to apply geometry to my shadow sketches which proved to me, that I was able to re-confirm astronomical knowledge that the moon describes a curved pathway in the sky. Additionally I understood the concept of how to arrive at the prediction of eclipses as put forward in Calvin. I am surprised, that eclipses are still perceived as negative sky events, because to me, these phenomena are occasions to observe a natural phenomena and I feel thankful for living in such a wonderful environment.  

Sun addressed spiritually and as an expression of the healing aspect

Though I planned to observe the Sun as regularly as the Moon when proposing my project, I observed the pathway of the Sun in the sky in depth in the course of my student task, where I found out how to predict the time of the day by looking at the shadow’s location outside and inside my home through the location and length of the sun’s shadow. My approach for the sky journal then changed to my daily link with the Sun, while doing silent morning and evening meditations focusing my attention on greeting and thanking the sun (mornings/evenings) ‘for shining, glowing and permeating humanity’ throughout the fifty five days of journaling.[45] This ritual has become a habit and is actually the outcome of studying some of the works of Rudolf Steiner. I felt, that this could be my spiritual contribution towards world peace, because from my point of view donating money represents only a material input. The idea of ‘worshipping’ the Sun in meditation stems from Steiner’s writing on ‘Anthroposophy as Cosmosophy’, that ‘this central spiritual being (Sun) was perceived as one with Christ by older humankind’ which is linked to my Christian belief system.[46] Yet another example of how I related to the Sun can be seen in the photos I took from the sun shining through a tree, producing a colourful reflection (figure 11a) and how the shadow fell on my blank piece of drawing paper while I sat in the garden (figure 11b).

Figure 11a: Nicole Montag-Keller, ‘i-phone photograph of the afternoon sun and sun’s reflection through a tree on 18th July 2017’, 2017; Figure 11b: Nicole Montag-Keller, ‘sun’s shadows falling on white drawing paper on 18th July 2017’, 2017.

Because the sun’s shadow moved so quickly over the paper, I had to sketch quickly the contour lines resulting in darker straight lines, whereas I imagined the sun rays, dancing in curls over the paper. Finally I added the coloured sun reflection, which I could not see with my eyes, but was detected with 21st century technology. The iPhone camera exhibited how the light was split in its spectral colours. 

Figure 12: Nicole Montag-Keller, ‘Sun rays and sun’s shadows final expression on 19th July 2017’, 2017.

Set of word associations coming to my mind when contemplating on the drawing of the sun rays and the sun’s shadows on 19th July 2017’, 2017:

Positive:
in die Erde versenkend, einströmend, eins, unteilbar, verdichtend,
 geradlinig, formend, umhüllen, 
erweckend, lebendig, warm, 
bezaubernd, verändernd, schwingend,
immerfort in BewegungNegative:
erblindend, blendend, einbrennen,
gleissend, einstrahlend, erhitzend,
ermüdendNeutral: farbig, spektralfarbigCreative word:

verschmetterlingt 

Figure 12 shows, that I described the sun light with 15 positive words or expressions in comparison to six negative words, further I noted two words referring to colour and invented a word, because a butterfly crossed my path as I was doing this artwork, making me smile. I argue, that light is the source of life, since being exhibited to less or no sunlight, might put human beings into Seasonal Affective Disorder as put forward by Jacob Liberman, who wrote a book about ‘light’ being ‘the medicine of the future’ because light has an influence on the morale of man.[47] This is in line with my experience of excessively high temperatures described earlier but I want to add, that I also experienced the healing power of Sunlight back in the beginnings of 2000, when I went through a period of feeling thoroughly empty.

In summarising my reflections on the Sun which I address daily in a spiritual approach, I understand, that I exhibit New Age behaviour and utopian ideas, as put forward by Nicolas Campion who calls Alice Bailey and Rudolf Steiner ‘New Age Christians’.[48] Furthermore I became aware, that I perceive the Sun as an expression for the power of uplifting and disturbing. 

Final thoughts

As a final thought I express my surprise in what I have found to mean that the Moon meets the Sun and the Sun meets the Moon. I am relieved, that I was able to uncover my repressed feelings and I feel as if many presents were given to me, either by encountering Venus or a comet (17th July around 23:00 h facing North) which can signifying something new is coming, as put forward in the book of symbols.[49] Through the analysis of my sky journal I am now aware of how the split between the material and the spiritual runs through the expression of my inner and outer culture and therefore also my identity. I fully agree with Campion, that my cosmos is ‘as inside as much as outside of me.[50] I am satisfied, that I learnt to use the Moon as a tool for measurement and I am still positive towards watching eclipses. I acknowledge, that I address the Sun daily spiritually, expressing an attitude of ‘if it doesn’t help, it won’t harm anyway’.[51] This attitude leaves me to mention Ernest Naylor who wrote in his book ‘Moonstruck’, that ‘we live in an age when the reality of the Moon has been studied intensively’ and that we need to contrast technically derived sky events (moon landing) ‘with perceptions of the Moon (and Sun) by early humans, for whom cyclical changes in the size, shape, and position of the Moon in the sky had mystical properties’, which then ‘were formalized in lunar myths and legends among citizens of societies worldwide as in those of ancient Rome and Greece’.[52] To me mythology signifies a cultural aspect of approaching the sky, as does the material approach.

Conclusion 

The aim of this research project was to understand what Moon meets Sun and Sun meets Moon to me and how this understanding influenced and shifted my lived experience. My identity with the Moon, due to my last name, as well as a material and symbolic meaning making approach, highlighted that in the course of my own path of life I underwent developmental changes and transformation as a consequence of observing and relating to the Moon and the Sun. Though my individual world-view and meaning system are shaped constantly by how I perceive the world and to which cultural context I feel drawn to, I agree with Nicolas Campion, that I am the expression of my personal cosmology and I further agree with Freya Matthews, that cosmologies may be self-affirming or not.[53] I arrived at what Eagleton suggested to be ‘self-realisation’, the knowing of myself better, by generating understanding through phenomenological and reflexive research.

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Pink, Sarah, Doing Visual Ethnography (London: Sage, 2007).

Ronnberg, Ami, Das Buch der Symbole (Köln: Taschen GmbH, 2010). 

Shinoda Bolen, Jean, Götter in jedem Mann (München: Heyne Verlag, 1998).

Solar Eclipse on BBC internet appearance http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20170811-why-do-we-associate-eclipses-with-the-end-of-the-world, [accessed 14th Aug 2017].

Steiner, Rudolf, Anthroposophie als Kosmosophie, http://fvn-archiv.net/PDF/GA/GA207.pdf [accessed 7 Aug 2017].

Wegscheider Cruse, Sharon, Another Chance – Hope and Health for the Alcoholic Family (Palo Alto: Science and Behavior Book Inc, 1989).


[1] Nicolas Campion, Astrology and Popular Religion in the Modern West (New York: Routledge, 2012), p. 149.150; Freya Matthews, The Ecological Self (London: Routledge, 1991), p. 109.

[2] Charlotte Aull Davies, Reflexive Ethnography: A guide to researching selves and others (London: Routledge, 1999), p.178.

[3] Terry Eagleton, The Idea of Culture (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2005), p. 1,6.

[4] Monday, Oxford Dictionary Online, https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/monday (accessed 3 Aug 2017).

[5] Martin Rees, Universe – The definitive visual guide (London: Dorling Kindersley Ltd., 2012), p.136.

[6] Hajo Banzhaf, Tarot und der Lebensweg des Menschen (München: Verlag Hugendubel, 2005), p. 34, 38.

[7] Caryad, Thomas Römer, Vera Zingsem, Wanderer am Himmel (Berlin: Springer Verlag, 2015), p.116.

[8] Hajo Banzhaf, p. 158.

[9] Hajo Banzhaf, p. 55.

[10] Ann Phoenix, Identities and Diversities (Milton Keynes: The Open University, 2002), p.53.

[11] Nicolas Campion, New Age in the Modern West (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2016), p.22.

[12] Sarah Pink, Doing Visual Ethnography (London: Sage, 2007), p. 24; Charlotte Aull-Davies, p.4-5.

[13] Charlotte Aull Davies, p.179.

[14] Charlotte Aull Davies, p.5.

[15] Monique Hennink, Inge Hutter, Ajay Bailey, Qualitative Research Methods (Los Angeles: Sage, 2011), p.17.

[16] Sharon Wegscheider Cruse, http://www.sharonwcruse.com/ (accessed 5th Aug 2017); Sharon Wegscheider Cruse, Another Chance – Hope and Health for the Alcoholic Family (Palo Alto: Science and Behavior Book Inc., 1989), p.106.

[17] Anonymous Alcoholics paths to Spirituality, https://www.aa.org/assets/en_US/aa-literature/p-84-many-paths-to-spirituality, (accessed 7thAug 2017).

[18] Nicolas Campion, Astrology and Popular Religion in the Modern West, p. 149, 150; Freya Mathews, p. 109.

[19] Charlotte Aull Davies, p. 178; Monique Hennink, Inge Hutter, Ajay Bailey, p. 17.

[20] Terry Eagleton, p.1, 6.

[21] Alexandra Harris, Weatherland (London: Thames and Hudson Ltd., 2016), p.14.

[22] Anodea Judith, Eastern Body, Western Mind – Psychology and the Chakra System as path to the Self (Berkley: Celestial Arts Publishing, 1996),  p.240.

[23] ‚Traurigkeit ist da.‘ trans . Nicole Montag-Keller.

[24] Hajo Banzhaf, p. 177, 182.

[25] Hajo Banzhaf, p. 177.

[26] ‘Die Sonne erzeugt so viel Wärmestau, es sediert mich, lähmt mich, macht mich wütend, da ich langsamer werde. Heruntergedrückt. Unmöglich, der Hitze zu entkommen.‘ trans. Nicole Montag-Keller.

[27] Alexandra Harris, p.14.

[28] Alexandra Harris, p 176.

[29] ‚Es fing Gottseidank endlich an zu regnen.‘ trans. Nicole Montag-Keller.

[30] Jean Shinoda Bolen, Götter in jedem Mann (München: Heyne Verlag, 1998),  p.70, 71.

[31] Jean Shinoda Bolen, p.173.

[32] Hajo Banzhaf, Astrologie (München: Hugendubel Verlag, 2003), p. 9.

[33]‚Der Donner der da aus der Tiefe des Wettergeschehens kam, war sehr mächtig. Das hat richtig gelebt. Da war irgendetwas wütend.‘ trans. Nicole Montag-Keller 

[34] ‘Donnernacht und ich wurde vom Blitz durchdrungen.’ trans. Nicole Montag-Keller.

[35] Nicolas Campion, Cosmology and Religion – Measurement and Meaning (New York: New York University Press, 2012), p.6.

[36] ‚Beim Fotografieren fiel mir auf, dass ich genau am selben Ort stehen muss, um Unterschiede in der Mondlaufbahn am Himmel zu finden.‘ trans. Nicole Montag-Keller./

[37] Edwin Bernbaum, ‘Sacred mountains: Themes and Teachings’, Mountain Research and Development, Vol. 26, No 4,  2006, p. 304-309.

[38] Edwin Bernbaum, p. 304.

[39] Wolfgang Held, Sternkalender, Ostern 2017 bis Ostern 2018 (Dornach: Verlag am Goetheanum, 2016), p.133; ‚Es gleicht kein Monatslauf dem nächsten.‘ trans. Nicole Montag-Keller.

[40] William H. Calvin, Wie der Schamane den Mond stahl (München: Carl Hanser Verlag, 1996), p.187, 189; ‘Dank der Vorliebe der Neuwelt-Archäoastronomen für Fenster und jener der Altwelt-Archäoastronomen für Stelen… ein ebener Fussboden kann praktisch den gleichförmigen Horizont ersetzen, wenn der Raum ein Fenster oder eine Tür nach Osten hat.‘ trans. Nicole Montag-Keller.

[41] Caryad, Thomas Römer, Vera Zingsem, p.4.; ‚Sobald eine Gruppe oder Gemeinschaft diese Zeichen systematisch beobachtet – …-, wird sie schnell die zyklische Wiederkehr dieser Himmelsereignisse beobachten und kann darauf eine Zeitrechnung aufbauen.‘ trans. Nicole Montag-Keller.

[42] William H. Calvin, p.39-40. 

[43] Ami Ronnberg, Das Buch der Symbole (Köln: Taschen GmbH, 2010 ), p. 32.

[44] Solar Eclipse on BBC internet appearance, http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20170811-why-do-we-associate-eclipses-with-the-end-of-the-world, (accessed 14th Aug 2017).

[45] ‚Ich danke der Sonne, die Menschen durchscheint, durchleuchtet und durchdringt.‘ trans. Nicole Montag-Keller.

[46] Rudolf Steiner, Anthroposophie als Kosmosophiehttp://fvn-archiv.net/PDF/GA/GA207.pdf (accessed 7 Aug 2017); ‚Dieses zentrale Geistwesen empfand die Menschheit als eins mit dem Christus.‘ trans. Nicole Montag-Keller.

[47] Jacob Liberman, Light, Medicine of the Future (Rochester: Bear and Company, 1991), p.125; Nicolas Campion, Astrology and Cosmology in the Worlds Religion (New York: New York University Press, 2012), p. 164.

[48] Nicolas Campion, New Age in the Modern West, p.22.

[49]Ami Ronnberg, p. 34.

[50] Nicolas Campion, Cosmology and Religion – Measurement and Meaning, p. 6.

[51] ‘Hilft es nicht, so schadet es nicht.’ trans. Nicole Montag-Keller.

[52] Ernest Naylor, Moonstruck (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015), p. x-xi.

[53] Nicolas Campion, Astrology and Popular Religion in the Modern West, p. 149, 150;  Freya Mathews, p.109.

Sky and Water in Minnesota: A sky journal research report

by Jessica Heim

This paper explores the relationship between the sky and bodies of water in my home state of Minnesota, U.S.A.  The aim of this research was to delve into the myriad ways in which the sky is reflected in the water and what it is like to be in this environment.  Using a phenomenological approach, I regularly spent time by two bodies of water which I had a particular fondness for, recorded my observations, feelings and insights regularly during a three month summer period, and took many photographs of the water and sky.  I then analyzed my findings in the context of literature discussing the value of this method of inquiry, that of immersing oneself in an experience of the sky and the natural world, giving particular attention to the writings of nineteenth century American transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau.  I found that experiencing the reflection of the sky on lakes and rivers, both during the day and at night, and in a variety of weather conditions, may allow one to not only feel a part of the environment in which one is immersed, but also to connect to past times, to those who have come before, and to the larger universe as well.

Introduction

The aim of this research is to explore the relationship between sky and bodies of water in my home state of Minnesota and to consider the reflection of aspects of sky to be found in water.  By reflecting the light and colors of the sky, lakes and rivers make the heavens more tangible, pulling them down to earth. This research, approached from a phenomenological perspective, involves reflection upon my own personal responses to experiencing the sky and water in various times of day and night and under differing weather conditions.  

Academic Rationale

    In Walden, nineteenth century American transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau reflects upon the two years (1845-1847) he spent living in a cabin he built outside Concord near Walden Pond.[1]  In this work, Thoreau writes extensively about his observations of nature and includes substantial commentary about his thoughts on Walden Pond and its reflections of its surroundings.  Thus, in the tradition of Thoreau, my research aims to delve into the experiences, thoughts and reflections one may experience as a result of extended observation of sky and water.

Methodology

    This research will utilize a phenomenological approach, as discussed by Christopher Tilley and Belden Lane.[2]It will draw upon my experiences with the sky and natural bodies of water in Minnesota, USA.  The majority of my observations are of the Mississippi River and the sky as seen from my backyard in central Minnesota, though some are of a small lake by my grandma’s house in northern Minnesota.  As part of this research, I have kept a sky journal, in which I have written my thoughts on observations of the sky and water from June through August 2017. In addition, to provide a visual reference to this journal and to more comprehensively capture my experience in the field, I have taken photographs of the sky and water throughout this period.   I made prints of my favourite images, placed them in a specially designated photo album, and selected those most relevant to this essay to include here.

Reflexive Considerations

    I am a Caucasian woman, and the location which I have spent the most time for this research is an area where I have lived for most of my life (about three decades). Watching the changing reflections of the sky upon the water in various times of day, weather, and seasons is not a new experience for me.  For as long as I can remember, I have enjoyed watching the play of light upon the water. What is new to me for this research is the more structured aspect it has given this pastime – the heightened focus of regularly writing about my experiences with this environment and of more intense reflection on what these experiences mean to me.  

Literature Review

     Christopher Tilley has argued that a phenomenological approach is of much value in understanding the world and our relationship to it.[3]  Phenomenology is, as Belden Lane describes, a way of interacting with the world in which one ‘listens to the place itself.’[4]As Tilley elaborates, with a phenomenological approach, ‘We experience and perceive the world because we live in that world and are intertwined within it.  We are part of it, and it is part of us.’[5]  Aspects of the world which are typically seen as inanimate, such as stones, are seen to essentially have a sense of agency, as they influence one’s consciousness. [6]  Tim Ingold also utilizes a phenomenological perspective to consider the nature of the sky and human perception of it. He observes that without air’s transparent qualities, perception of sky, or anything at all, would be impossible.[7]  He considers the difficulty of defining ‘sky,’ but suggests, ‘the sky is the kingdom of light, sound, and air.’[8]  Thus our perception of sky is influenced by the light we see, the sounds we hear, and the movement of air we feel.  

     Though Thoreau does not make use of terminology such as ‘phenomenology,’ he clearly values the importance of regularly being out in the world and experiencing it first hand – obtaining knowledge from books alone is not sufficient.[9]  As he observes, ‘What is a course of history or philosophy . . . or the best society . . . compared with the discipline of looking always at what is to be seen?’[10]  Thoreau explains why he went to live at Walden Pond.  He says, ‘I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately . . . and not, when I came time to die, discover that I had not lived . . . I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.’[11]  In the course of ‘living deep,’ Thoreau makes extensive observations of the natural world around him and reflects on the significance of what he sees and experiences. 

    Similarly, astronomy enthusiast Fred Schaaf points out the importance of naked eye observation of the sky.  He notes, ‘the best way to learn them [the many features visible in the sky] is though your own personal, intimate discoveries of them.  In the most ultimate sense, there is no true replacement for direct observation in astronomy.’[12]  Like Thoreau, Schaaf makes the argument that direct personal experience with the world is essential for better understanding and appreciation of it. 

Field Work and Discussion

     Undertaking phenomenological research on the combination of water and sky in Minnesota seemed very appropriate.  The name, ‘Minnesota’ is derived from the Dakota Mni Sota Makoce, translated as ‘sky-tinted water’ or ‘the land where the waters are so clear they reflect the clouds.’[13]  The state’s nickname is ‘Land of 10,000 Lakes’ (there are actually 11,842) and the state motto is l’etoile du nord (star of the north).[14]  Given the ubiquitous presence of lakes, rivers and streams in the state, experiencing where the water meets the sky seemed like the perfect way to immerse oneself in a Minnesotan experience of sky.

    A few points to note – first, I live on the west bank of the north-south flowing Mississippi River.  Thus when I face the river, I face east.  The same is true for my grandma’s house – the sun and moon appear to rise above the lake.  Also, area where I live is near a bend in the river where the river is unusually wide compared to its width just a few miles to the north or south.  Due to this, the opposite shore is quite distant, and it consequently, aside from the current, has more of the feel of being on a lake. In addition, I live several miles north of a medium sized city, thus for most of my life, the light pollution affecting the view of the sky at night was restricted to the southern part of the sky. My grandma lives in a very small town much further from larger population centers, hence, at her house, the sky is darker at night and is significantly less affected by light pollution.

Reflection, Light, and Perception

    A central theme which repeatedly came up throughout this research was the idea of reflection.  The water acts as a mirror which it reflects what is going on above it.  As Thoreau muses, ‘Walden is the perfect forest mirror . . . Sky water.’[15]  When the skies are blue, the Mississippi is a rich hue of marine blue (Fig. 4).  During stormy weather, the water turns slate grey, even darker than the storm clouds above it (Fig. 5), and it is a wonderful reflector of the light of the rising sun and moon (Fig. 6).  One morning, I photographed the rising sun, and the sun’s image reflected in the water was blazingly bright! (Fig. 7)  I thought of this experience when I read Thoreau’s comment about watching the sun set above Walden Pond.  He notes, ‘you are obliged to employ both your hands to defend your eyes against the reflected as well as the true sun.’[16]  Similarly, the purples and pinks visible in the eastern sky at sunset are reflected upon the water (Fig. 8).  As Thoreau observes, water is ‘continually receiving new life from above,’ as it reflects the quality and appearance of the air and sky which it lies beneath.[17]

Figure 1: A sunny day in my backyard on the Mississippi River. 31 May, 2017, 3:31 p.m. . Photo: Jessica Heim.
Figure 2: An approaching storm in my backyard on the Mississippi River.  9 July, 2017, 8:47 p.m. . Photo: Jessica Heim.
Figure 3: The rising moon from my backyard on the Mississippi River. 8 July, 2017, 9:30 p.m. . Photo: Jessica Heim.
Figure 4: Sunrise seen from my backyard on the Mississippi River. 8 June, 2017, 5:52 a.m. . Photo: Jessica Heim.
Figure 5: The colors of sunset: facing east in my backyard on the Mississippi River. 1 August, 2017, 8:50 p.m. . Photo: Jessica Heim.

     As beautiful as all these scenes are, the one that I found myself writing about with the most excitement was the sight of the light of the morning sun, once it has gained sufficient elevation, bouncing off the gently flowing water.  As I wrote on the morning of 5 June, ‘The light sparkling on the water is so beautiful, so magical… One cannot begin the day in a better way (Figs. 6 & 7).’  Thoreau too, makes note of the play of light upon the water, noting, ‘White Pond and Walden are great crystals on the surface of the earth, Lakes of Light.’[18]  To me, the light of the rising sun or moon makes the river appear as if it is covered in thousands of sparkling diamonds.  This is made possible not only by the light of the celestial body, but also by the combination of a light breeze and slight current, which causes the water to move and thus the light to sparkle.  Consequently, the air and sky are both acting upon the water which in turn reflects back these stimuli to the observer.  Thus is it is not only that the environment and observer can act upon each other, or as Tilley describes, ‘I touch the stone and the stone touches me,’ but also that different parts of the environment interact with one another.

    In addition, while I admired the light sparkling, reflecting off the water that morning, I realized that was not all that was sparkling. I ‘noticed how the play of light was appearing not only on the water, but on the leaves of the huge cottonwood tree in our backyard. It looked like there were diamonds in the water as well as the tree.’[19]  This cottonwood tree is a tremendous presence in my backyard and its leaves rustle in the slightest breeze.  I reflected further on cottonwood trees, noting, ‘It’s like they are connected to the sky in several ways – their leaves reflect the light of the sun, the wind makes this light move and sparkle (Fig. 8).’[20]The wind blowing the leaves not only results in a beautiful display of light, but of sound as well.  As I described, ‘I’ve always loved the sound of cottonwood leaves rustling in the wind. My dad (who passed away when I was in my early twenties) did too.  He often commented on how he loved to hear the sound of the wind rustling the leaves of these trees.  So when I hear this sound, fond memories of my dad always come to mind.’[21]  In describing the ideas of musicologist Victor Zuckerkandl, Ingold makes an observation quite pertinent to this scene, ‘in opening our eyes and ears to the sky, vision and hearing effectively become one.  And they merge with feeling, too, as we bare ourselves to the wind.’[22]  This perfectly describes my experience observing the sky, river, and environs. As I wrote shortly after a description of the interaction of light and wind upon the water and the cottonwood tree, ‘Though I feel differently depending on the weather and time of day, one thing is consistent, the river makes me feel.  I always feel more alive by it.’[23]  Thus in being immersed in ‘the kingdom of light, sound, and air’ – seeing the light upon the water, hearing the leaves in the wind, and feeling the breeze against my skin – in feeling these physically in my body, I feel, too, in the emotional sense of the word.[24]  

Figure 6: Light of the morning sun sparkling on the Mississippi as seen from my backyard.  5 June, 2017, 11:39 a.m. . Photo: Jessica Heim.
Figure 7: Light of the morning sun sparkling on the Mississippi with trees in the foreground, as seen from my backyard. 5 June, 2017, 11:50 a.m. . Photo: Jessica Heim.
Figure 8: The Cottonwood tree in my backyard. 5 June, 2017, 11:40 a.m. . Photo: Jessica Heim.

Time

    Another theme which repeatedly surfaced in my reflections on my experience with the water and sky, was that of time and its connection to place.  Particularly when observing the sky from my backyard and reflecting upon how I felt about it, I found that many memories of that same place from my childhood came to mind.  As Alexandra Harris observes in her book about weather in the lives and works of English writers and artists, ‘Our weather is made up of personal memories and moods: an evening sky is full of other evenings.’[25]  During this research, I frequently recalled time spent on or near the river with my dad (Fig. 9). As I recalled, ‘We would sometimes boat up the river at night, to better enjoy the moonlight on the water (Fig. 10).’[26]   Reflecting on watching the river in the morning, I noted, ‘When I am looking at the morning light dancing as sparkles across the water, I could just as easily be five years old.  It feels much the same to be with the sky, trees, and water as it did then.’[27]  Thoreau similarly remarks upon such timelessness of a place, ‘Why, here is Walden, the same woodland lake that I discovered so many years ago; . . . it is the same liquid joy and happiness.’[28]  As he goes on to describe, ‘I see by its face that it is visited by the same reflection; and I can almost say, Walden, is it you?’[29]  Thus, by being immersed in a landscape which appears relatively constant over the years, one can, in a way, connect back to a past time.  

Figure 9: Boating on the Mississippi River with my dad, June 1996.
Photo: Sister Orlean Pereda.
Figure 10: My dad and me boating on the Mississippi River at night. Summer 1996.
Photo: Sister Orlean Pereda.

    The idea of connecting to other times via sky observation also came up in another way during this research. When I observed the sky at night from the end of the dock (Fig. 11 – photograph taken during the day, since those I took at night did not turn out well]) at my grandma’s house, the sky was quite dark, many faint stars were easily visible, and the Milky Way stretched as a gigantic arch above me, from Sagittarius on the southern horizon, through Cygnus overhead, to Cassiopeia in the north.  As I laid on my back at the end of the long dock, essentially surrounded by the water around and beneath me and by the starry expanse above me, I pondered the idea that, even more than a lake or river, the view of the night sky can be seen as a relatively unchanging place.  As I wrote that night, ‘Sky is a primary source, which, when experienced as truly dark, can be experienced very similarly to how ancient people saw it. A way of connecting to the past and transcending time.’[30]  Clive Ruggles, in a discussion about striving to comprehend they way past peoples viewed the world around them and their place in it, notes the value of the sky in this endeavour, as, ‘unlike the rest of their perceived world, the sky is a part that we can visualize directly.’[31]  Thus by immersing oneself into a night-time environment such as this, one can connect more closely with the earth and sky as it was experienced long ago.  

Figure 11: My grandma’s dock on the lake. 25 July, 2017, 10:21 a.m. Photo: Jessica Heim.

Darkness

    When thinking about all the experiences I had with the sky, river, and lake at night this summer, the importance of darkness came to mind.  For darkness at night is essential in order to continue to experience the wonder of the night sky, and in so doing, to feel a sense of connection to both those that have come before us and to the universe itself.  As Tyler Nordgren points out, when we lose the night sky, ‘we lose our place in the Universe’ and ‘a direct visible connection to our ancestors . . .  In short, we lose a tangible link to ourselves that gives life meaning beyond the here and now.’[32]In my journal, I reflected upon the loss of the night sky, recalling memories of ‘Sitting on the dock with my dad – looking at the river as it grew dark. . . I remember my dad telling me how when he and my mom had first moved here, the only light visible on the opposite shore of the river was a little green light . . .  I would always ask him to point out that light to me.  As time went on, more lights appeared, and he was no longer able to make out that light.’[33] As frustrating as that was, it was relatively minor compared to the recent influx of bright white LEDs which are much more effective at obliterating the view of the stars.  Though the daytime view of the sky and the Mississippi remains much the same as in years past, the night-time version has changed substantially, and it is no longer possible to see the stars reflected  in the waters below.  In not being able to experience a dark, starry sky, I have lost the ability (unless I drive a considerable distance to a remote area) to directly experience the night-time sky in the same way – it’s akin to trying to experience what a forest is like after most of the trees have been cut down, the animals have left, and the understory plants have been trampled.  Thoreau wrote in his journal, ‘I should not like to think that some demigod had come before me and picked out some of the best of the stars.  I wish to know an entire heaven and an entire earth.’[34]  In my own sky journal, I found myself repeatedly expressing my frustration with the rapidly declining accessibility of the night sky and lamenting that if current trends continue, future generations will not ‘know an entire heaven.’ As astro-photographer Dietmar Hager argues, if people cannot see the stars, they will ‘have no relationship with the sky.’[35]  Consequently, something which has been a fundamental part of humans’ experience on earth, their connection to the larger cosmos, will have been lost.  

Final Thoughts

   Though distinct themes can be found in my sky journal, I found that when immersed in the ‘weather-world,’ as Tilley terms it, all the diverse qualities of the elements around me are intertwined and inseparable.[36]  When I see the light of the sun or moon reflected on the water, I simultaneously feel the touch of the wind and note its effects on all that I see.  At the same time, I can hear the water lapping at the shore and the call of a bird soaring overhead.  Thus Tilley’s understanding of sky as ‘the kingdom of light, sound, and air,’ perfectly encompasses the entirety of my experiences in this environment.  

Conclusion

    The aim of this research was to explore the intersection of water and sky using a phenomenological approach. The first theme discussed was how the water’s reflection of the sky changes markedly based on time of day and weather, as well as how light and the movement of air affects not only the appearance of water, but the trees at its bank and an individual immersed in this environment.  The idea of place and its relationship to time was also explored.  As Tilley observes, memories are an integral part of one’s experience and being in a place routinely can be seen as a series of ‘biographic encounters.’[37]  In addition, I found that viewing a dark, starry sky can serve as a means to connect one to both those who have come before and to the larger cosmos.  The continued existence of dark night skies is essential in order to maintain this connection.  In conclusion, to understand all facets of the relationship between sky and water, they must be able to be experienced in all conditions – in both stormy weather and fair, in both the brightness of the noontime sun and in night so dark that the stars and the Milky Way can be seen in the sky above and in the waters below.  

Bibliography

Explore Minnesota Tourism, Five Ways to Enjoy Minnesota’s 10,000 Lakes,http://www.exploreminnesota.com/travel-ideas/five-ways-to-enjoy-minnesotas-10000-lakes/> [accessed 13 August 2017].

Hager, Dietmar, ‘Ethical Implications of Astrophotography and Stargazing,’ in The Imagined Sky: Cultural Perspectives,ed. by Darrelyn Gunzburg, pp. 305-318 (Bristol, Connecticut: Equinox Publishing Ltd., 2016).

Harris, Alexandra, Weatherland: Writers & Artists Under English Skies  (New York: Thames & Hudson, 2015).

Heim, Jessica, Sky Journal, June – August 2017.

Ingold, Tim, ‘Earth Sky, Wind, and Weather,’ The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, 13(2007), 19-38.

Ingold, Tim, ‘Reach for the Stars! Light, Vision, and the Atmosphere,’ in The Imagined Sky: Cultural Perspectives,ed. by Darrelyn Gunzburg, pp. 215-233 (Bristol, Connecticut: Equinox Publishing Ltd., 2016).

Lane, Belden C., Landscapes of the Sacred: Geography and Narrative in American Spirituality, Expanded edn (Baltimore, MD and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001). 

Nordgren, Tyler, Stars Above, Earth Below: A Guide to Astronomy in the National Parks(Chichester, UK: Praxis, 2010).

Ruggles, Clive, Ancient Astronomy: An Encyclopedia of Cosmology and Myth, (Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, Inc, 2005).

Schaaf, Fred, The Starry Room: Naked Eye Astronomy in the Intimate Universe  (New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1988).

State of Minnesota, State Motto,https://mn.gov/portal/about-minnesota/state-symbols/flag.jsp> [accessed 13 August 2017].

Thoreau, Henry David, Journal, in The Journal: 1837-1861 by Henry David Thoreau, ed. by Damion Searls, Preface by John R. Stilgoe (New York: New York Review of Books, 2009).  

Thoreau, Henry David, Walden,in Walden and Civil Disobedience, Introduction and Notes by Andrew S. Trees, (New York: Barnes & Noble: 2012), pp. 1- 258.

Tilley, Christopher, A Phenomenology of Landscape(Oxford: Berg Publishers, 1994).

Tilley, Christopher, The Materiality of Stone: Explorations in Landscape Phenomenology(Oxford: Berg, 2004). 

Upham, Warren, Minnesota Place Names: a Geographical Encyclopedia,3rd edn (St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 2001).  

Westerman , Gwen and Bruce White, Mni Sota Makoce: the Land of the Dakota  (St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 2012).  


[1]Henry David Thoreau, Walden,in Walden and Civil Disobedience, Introduction and Notes by Andrew S. Trees (New York: Barnes & Noble: 2012), pp. 1- 258.

[2]Christopher Tilley , The Materiality of Stone: Explorations in Landscape Phenomenology(Oxford: Berg, 2004);   Belden C. Lane, Landscapes of the Sacred: Geography and Narrative in American Spirituality, Expanded edition (Baltimore, MD and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001), p. 26.

[3]Tilley, The Materiality of Stone, p.31.

[4]Lane, Landscapes of the Sacred, p. 44.  

[5]Tilley, The Materiality of Stone, p. 2. 

[6]Tilley, The Materiality of Stone, p. 16.

[7]Tim Ingold, ‘Reach for the Stars! Light, Vision, and the Atmosphere,’ in The Imagined Sky: Cultural Perspectives, ed. by Darrelyn Gunzburg (Bristol, Connecticut: Equinox Publishing Ltd., 2016), p. 225.

[8]Ingold, ‘Reach for the Stars!’ p. 231.  

[9]  Thoreau, Walden, p. 86.  

[10]Thoreau, Walden, p. 86.

[11]Thoreau, Walden, p. 20. 

[12]Fred Schaaf, The Starry Room: Naked Eye Astronomy in the Intimate Universe (New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1988), p. 2.

[13]Warren Upham, Minnesota Place Names: a Geographical Encyclopedia,3rd edn (St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 2001), p. 4; Gwen Westerman and Bruce White, Mni Sota Makoce: the Land of the Dakota  (St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 2012), p. 13.  

[14]Explore Minnesota Tourism, Five Ways to Enjoy Minnesota’s 10,000 Lakes,<http://www.exploreminnesota.com/travel-ideas/five-ways-to-enjoy-minnesotas-10000-lakes/> [accessed 13 August 2017]; State of Minnesota, State Motto,https://mn.gov/portal/about-minnesota/state-symbols/flag.jsp> [accessed 13 August 2017].

[15]Thoreau, Walden, p. 147.

[16]Thoreau, Walden, p. 145.

[17]Thoreau, Walden, p. 147.

[18]Thoreau, Walden, p.155.

[19]Jessica Heim, Sky Journal, June – August 2017, 5 June journal entry.

[20]Heim, Sky Journal, 10 June journal entry.  

[21]Heim, Sky Journal, 5 June journal entry.  

[22]Ingold, ‘Reach for the Stars!’ p. 231.  

[23]Heim, Sky Journal, 5 June journal entry.  

[24]Ingold, ‘Reach for the Stars!’ p. 231.  

[25]Alexandra Harris, Weatherland: Writers & Artists Under English Skies (New York: Thames & Hudson, 2015), p. 13.

[26]Heim, Sky Journal, 15July journal entry.

[27]Heim, Sky Journal,5 June journal entry.

[28]Thoreau, Walden, p. 150.

[29]Thoreau, Walden,  p. 150. 

[30]Heim, Sky Journal,24 July journal entry.  

[31]Clive Ruggles, Ancient Astronomy: An Encyclopedia of Cosmology and Myth, (Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, Inc, 2005), p. xi.  

[32]Tyler Nordgren, Stars Above, Earth Below: A Guide to Astronomy in the National Parks(Chichester, UK: Praxis Publishing, 2010), p. 428.

[33]Heim, Sky Journal,15 July journal entry.

[34]Henry David Thoreau, The Journal: 1837-1861 by Henry David Thoreau, ed. by Damion Searls, Preface by John R. Stilgoe (New York: New York Review of Books, 2009), entry from March 23, 1856,  p. 373.

[35]Dietmar Hager, ‘Ethical Implications of Astrophotography and Stargazing,’ in The Imagined Sky: Cultural Perspectives,ed. by Darrelyn Gunzburg, pp. 305-318 (Bristol, Connecticut: Equinox Publishing Ltd., 2016), p. 307.  

[36]  Tim Ingold, ‘Earth Sky, Wind, and Weather,’ The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, 13(2007), 19-38.

[37]  Christopher Tilley, A Phenomenology of Landscape(Oxford: Berg Publishers, 1994), p. 27.   

Experiencing the Goan Skies

Nomita Khatri

This paper explores the relationship between the sky and land in my home state of Goa, India at the onset of the Indian monsoon. Using a phenomenological and reflexive approach I regularly spent time observing the sky at different points as I went about my day, journaling my experience and photographing it over a period of two months. I then analysed the themes that emerged in the context of German philosopher Martin Heidegger’s (1889–1976) notion of “dwelling,”; Alexandra Harri’s comment on Gilbert White’s idea of being attentive to the weather through the senses and it’s ability to have “agency” on us as described by Christopher Tilley and Bruno Latour. I found that my experience “under-sky” urged me to find expansiveness both outside and within. By encountering the sky as it was I gave myself permission to be present to whoIwas being in the moment too.

Introduction

This paper is a report on the sky journal I kept in June and July 2018 in Goa, observing the wind, clouds, sun and the mildness – or not – of the weather as the Indian monsoon was beginning and ripening to its fullest: this was the hinge as the seasons change. As part of my investigation I explore Martin Heidegger’s concept of ‘dwelling’, outlined in his 1971 essay ‘Building, Dwelling, Thinking’, applying it to life under the monsoon sky of Goa, in the semi-urban neighbourhood where I live. I also looked at Bruno Latour and Christopher Tilley’s notion of ‘agency’, together with and Alexandra Harris’s observation of Gilbert White’s phenomenological response to the weather.

My Method: Phenomenology and Reflexivity 

I relied on two methodologies: phenomenology and reflexivity. In the reflexive method narratives through stories are understood in the context of lived experiences and the meanings they create. I am an Indian woman who has just observed my thirty-seventh monsoon from the western coastal state of Goa, India, where I now live. I grew up predominantly in large metropolises around India in a middle class dual-religion (Catholic/Hindu) family. My interest in bio-dynamic farming took me to live, learn and work in semi-rural and rural places, while my professional work as a graphic designer incorporated more of the themes of connecting with the earth, water and sky. Through these experiences, I deepened my understanding of the web of connection in which we live, reflecting both the urban and rural perspectives I have developed. 

As Kim Etherington comments, ‘as human beings we learn a great deal from re-telling stories, creating new meanings and deepening existing ones’ while being mindful of ‘our own ideology, culture and politics and that of our participants and audience’.[1]I have looked at ‘stories’ told during the monsoon period in the form of festivals and rituals, including my experience as a researcher as I considered the sky allowing it to reveal new subjective meanings and a sense of self and identity, negotiated as the stories unfolded. My own experience then becomes part of the narrative. Also, in effect, I was interviewing the sky, engaging with it as fully as I could, as a multi-sensory component. This was the phenomenological part of my research, engaging directly with the phenomena around me. Maurice Merleau-Ponty sees phenomenology as the essential contact point between consciousness and environment.[2]He talks about phenomenology as a ‘philosophy for which the world is always ‘already there’ before reflection begins… and all its efforts are concentrated upon re-achieving a direct and primitive contact with the world… that does not expect to arrive at an understanding of man and the world from any starting point other than that of their facticity.[3]Laura Sewall adds to this idea when she says, ‘focused attention produces a richness of colour, a depth of sensory experience and often means the difference between seeing and not seeing’.[4]For me, inhabiting the sky relied on the use of all my senses, including sound and smell as well as sight. I paid particular attention to the sensual cues presented in my observations, and spent time observing the sky to see what Sewall’s ‘focused attention’ brought to my consciousness. 

When there was pause in the rain, which there was most days in the two month period, I walked outside and took photographs on my phone, recorded my sensory observations in a journal. I paid attention to what each of my presented to me, along with anything else which particularly drew my attention. 

Literature Review: Being and Dwelling 

In his essay ‘Building, Dwelling, Thinking’ Martin Heidegger traces the root of the English word ‘building’ to the Old English word bauen, meaning to dwell. ‘Dwelling’, in turn, comes from the Gothic wunianand is itself related to the German bauen, which is ‘to dwell’ Bauenalso signifies to ‘stay in place’ or ‘remain’ whereas, wunian specifies how this is to be experienced, ‘to cherish and protect, to preserve and care for, specifically to till the soil, to cultivate the vine’.[5]Therefore bauen means ‘to stay in one place’, while ‘being at peace’ to be ‘safe guarded from danger.’Heidegger belived that, the fundamental character of dwelling is this sparing and preserving’(emphasis in the original).[6]This kind of attention or ‘dwelling’ allows entities to become or be themselves without having to be more than they already are. 

To extend the concept of ‘preserving, for me, to ‘preserve’ the earth means to be under the sky, which also means ‘remaining before the divinities’ and includes a belonging of mortal to mortal. Thus, by a ‘primal oneness,’ earth, sky, divinities and mortals belong to together. In Heidegger’s opinion, ‘when we say sky, we are already thinking of the other three [Earth, Divinities, and Mortals] along with it, but we give no thought to the simple oneness of the four’, which he calls the ‘fourfold’ .[7]To understand how to ‘dwell’ in this peaceful way, by Heidegger’s definition, is to understand a human being’s place within the fourfold. It is through this lens and the study of the sky that I unpack Heidegger’s concept of the ‘fourfold’.

The phenomenology of weather was experienced by ‘dwelling’ in it through my senses – sight, hearing, smell and feeling. Alexandra Harris, commenting on Gilbert White’s attentiveness to the weather, wrote, ‘White could never be content with statistics alone. He also had to look and touch and smell the air to understand how this familiar environment was altered’.[8]To follow White and Harris, if I were to experience the fundamental character of ‘dwelling’, I had to rely on focused sensual experience in order to expand my awareness. Also, to inhabit the sky, is to be impacted by it. Agency, as described by the French social-theorist Bruno Latour and the British archaeologist Christopher Tilley, is the equal ability for things and people to have an impact on each other propelling them into action. As Tilley wrote, objects ‘create people as much as people make them’.[9]In my research Tilley’s objects were in the sky, and the ones in my sky were the wind-borne monsoon clouds and the sun, all of whom exhibited ‘agency’, impacting on me, the earth and the cultural rhythms that define this time of the year. 

Fieldwork and Discussion

Once I had written my Sky Journal, I was able to analyse it into three themes, each exploring an aspect of ‘dwelling’which emerged over the course of the observational period. Each section includes some of my observations, as well as the myths, and other academic insights that wove their way into my experience during this time. 

Theme 1: Myth and Ritual in ‘Dwelling’
On 17 June, 2018 I wrote:

I am enjoying the fresh smell of damp earth, after months of heat, dust and dry weather. The sky in the west looks an ominous purple-grey and I hear distant thunder. I watched mesmerised by the contrast in colour between sky and land (see Figure 1). The wind blew in rain-heavy clouds, sweeping them over where I stood, still watching, mesmerised. I finally seek shelter as it begins to pour. While I stand under a sliver of tin roof, slowly getting soaked, I think of the monsoon myth.

Situating this experience and observation in the context of the mythology of the sky, the Vedas, which are a collection of hymns and other ancient religious texts written in India between 1500 BCE and 1000 BCE, speak of the arrival of the monsoon as a war between Indra, God of rain, warrior of the peopleand Vitra the demon.[10]Having taken all the waters of the earth, Vitra has placed them in a mountain and stood guarding it, causing drought and famine. Indra decides to fight Vitrato free the waters with his weapons – the thunderbolt and lightening. The battle concludes withIndrafatally wounding the demon Vitra, freeing the waters that bring back life. Since then, the sound of a gathering storm indicates the presence of Indra. Examining this myth in the context of my phenomenological experience affirms Heidegger’s understanding of the verb ‘to dwell’, that is, to live, by ‘preserving’ and ‘sparing’ in the ‘simple oneness of the ‘primal oneness,’ earth, sky, divinities and mortals.[11]It was as if the ancient myth came alive in my experience.

Figure 1. Indra’sBattle in the Sky. Wednesday 6 June, 6:43PM. Photo: Nomita Khatri

The expression of experiencing the ‘essence’ of the arrival of the monsoon, is turned into a local ritual of celebration and thanksgiving on 24 June, which is also the feast of Saint John the Baptist. The festival of São João is celebrated traditionally when young men go from house to house seeking a dip in the family well to be given gifts of the earth, the local seasonal fruit and a sip of the local alcoholic cashew drink, fenias an expression of thanksgiving.[12]The day is also marked by making tiara’s called koppels made out of the season’s flowers and leaves. By dwelling on the weather-myth in my first drenching of the season, I felt appreciative of the nuanced connections to the ‘fourfold’ in the form of the São João ritual. As an annual reminder, it illustrates Heidegger’s idea of dwelling by embodying it into lived experience. Sky, earth, mortals and divinities are intrinsically linked by the coming of rain, in a natural phenomenon that is experienced year after year allowing the sky to belong to what Tim Ingold called ‘the world that people inhabit’ just as the earth we tread on.[13]

Theme 2: Dwelling Within and Without

For the majority of this research project I remained, to use a Tennysonian invention, ‘under-sky’ that is, under cloud-cover.[14]My internal response to the churning of the monsoon sky was split. The gardener in me cheered at the dripping skies, which signified a time of ripeness, fertility and plenty. The urban woman in me at first exulted in it, ‘learning to feel the level of damp or dryness in the air, as a gauge of whether or not to run errands on a scooter.’ As the monsoon progressed I dwelled with feelings of ‘claustrophobia’, a ‘sense of confinement’ and ‘gloom.’ In a journal entry from 20 July I observed, ‘riding a scooter means to be open to the elements and hence needing to live by its rhythm. The downside is that it restricts my freedom of movement in the way having the car-on-loan simply does not.’ 

When I did step outside, I noticed myself seeking a sense of space by riding towards open expanses or quite old neighbourhoods with their still-dense tree cover to walk in, steering clear of the urban sprawl. Phrases from my journal illustrate this until now, unconscious choice, ‘the fields in front of me feel soothing to the spirit this evening’, ‘the forest to my right makes a dark green wall that reaches up to the sky’, which is when it struck me — the experience of expansiveness that Shelley had found in the sky I had unconsciously been seeking ‘under-sky’, only to understand that it was available in wide expanses and the subtly different, shades of green (see Figure 2).[15]That coupled with the almost constant battering rain slowed the pace of life to a crawl, allowing long stretches of solitary time in which to contemplate how I ‘dwell’ with myself. 

Figure 2. Purple-Grey Nimbostratus. Sunday 17 June, 6:43PM. Photo: Nomita Khatri

In a journal entry dated 30July 2018, when I chose to walk a part of the neighbourhood I was unfamiliar with I observed: 

An old laterite (stone) house with its tiled roof completely caved in — a house that is reclaiming the sky! All manner of greenery, with impetus from the heavy rains, no doubt, are simultaneously reclaiming the stone. Two seats, part of what would have been a roofed in verandah, still sit conversationally facing each other. 

Figure 3. Reclaiming the Sky. Monday 25 July, 6:02PM. Photo: Nomita Khatri.

Roszak, Gomes and Kanner, commenting on Laura Sewall’s approach to phenomenology, state, ‘Perceptual psychologist Laura Sewall points out that our sensory capacities — taste, smell, sight, hearing and touch are the fundamental avenues between self and world’.[16]This former building (see Figure 3) in its crumbling form exhibits ‘dwelling’ in that it is becoming itself by ‘reclaiming sky’ and being reclaimed by the earth. In being itself in the moment I encountered it, it seemed to give me permission to be who Iwas in that moment too — presence begetting presence.

Theme 3: Dwelling ‘Under-Sky’

A small percentage of the local population leapt into action, in a time-honoured tradition of tilling the land, emphasising French social theorist Bruno Latour’s concept when he says that an object has agency when it, ‘has the ability to move us to take action’.[17]An excerpt I wrote on 12 July 2018 exhibits this agency with the onset of the monsoon: 

Plastic-encased human figures stoop in ankle deep water on communidade(the Portuguese word for community) land, transplanting paddy…  I see another semi-transparent wall of rain in streaks of grey obscuring the bucolic planting scene (see Figures  4, 5 and 6). The figures continue to dig, sow and transplant as the rain batters down.

Figures 4|5|6. Patch-by-Patch. Tuesday 12 June, 5:36PM | 5:47 PM | 5:48PM.
 Photos: Nomita Khatri

The earliest record of the sky as agent appears as early as 700 BCE when the Greek poet Hesiod urges his brother Perses in the poem Works and Days toplough the field ‘when the Pleiades and Hyades and strong Orion begin to set’.[18]Turning again to Heidegger, as we receive the churning sky in ever-changing shades of grey, the earth below changes visibly in response to mortals ‘tilling the soil’ or ‘sparing’ it, nurturing it into a vibrant patchwork of psychedelic greens that exhibit the ‘fourfold’ and our place as mortals within it.[19]Rain is a key ingredient of the making of humanity, in the classical tradition too, as is evident in the sensuous description of the birth of rain in this passage from Virgil’s Georgics, cited in Harris’ ‘almighty father, Air, marries the Earth and penetrates her with prolific showers, and, their bodies joined as one, unbridles life’s potential’.[20]

Harris describes the concept of being ‘weathered’.[21]We can be ‘weathered’ by life in the fourfold, which gives us much to contemplate if we stay present to the outcomes of experiencing it in its windy and fierce glory, even when it comes into destructive contact with human development. For example, an almost routine component of my research has been the experience of power outages and resulting regular disruption. Trees have fallen on electricity lines and been brutally felled, canals have flooded and poorly built bridges collapsed. By bringing ‘focused attention’ to the sky I was able to see the ways in which we choose to control the earth, to ‘build’ in the most restrictive sense of the word and hence to spoil rather than ‘preserve.’ Just like White and Heidegger, paying conscious sensuous attention to the weather meant an insightful connection to it, in both its beautiful and destructive aspects. 

Final Thoughts 

At the time of completing the writing of this essay at the end of August 2018, torrential monsoon rains continue to lash the coastline from where I sit. Paying focused attention to the objects in the sky had become a sort of ritual for the duration of the research. To ‘dwell’ in the sky meant to ‘dwell’ on myself with a deepened ability to see the connections within the ‘fourfold.’ By extension, the weather-myths and rituals we’ve created serve as a ritual reminder of the interconnectedness within which we live — a connection that is alive in the agrarian community I witnessed during my research. 

Urban life, on the other hand, as noticed from witnessing a part of myself, is increasingly removed from this interconnection. As I observed, simply not having a car meant I had to learn to pay attention to the wind-speed, shade and tone of the clouds on the horizon in order to gauge how long I had between squalls. Paying conscious sensuous attention to the weather meant a connection to it, which expanded my awareness of its impact. This repeated awareness of my place with respect to the sky was dulled, when I had brief access to a closed vehicle. The larger these leaps away from experiencing the forces of nature, the deeper our sense of loss and a lack of awareness of the web of interconnectedness within which we live and always have. Ritual in this context becomes a meaningless sequence of repetitive acts devoid of meaning. The delusion that we have control over the physical environment that we find ourselves in perpetuates, even as we increasingly make choices that reflect our increasing disassociation with it and hence ourselves.

Conclusion

The aim of this research project was to examine the sky by recording observations made through the senses: sight, touch, sound and smell, compiled in the months of June and July 2018 in a semi-urban neighbourhood in Goa. I took a reflexive approach, reflecting my own position, and a phenomenological one, attempting to engage as directly with the phenomena around me as I could. By choosing this approach to study the sky, the door was opened for me to observe and record at multiple sensuous levels and I explored my findings in relation to Martin Heidegger’s notion of ‘dwelling’ within the ‘fourfold’. Chris Tilley, Tim Ingold and Alexandra Harris also helped me focus on being in place and time. Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s ideas formed the connection between the theoretical framework and my experience with the sky and my consciousness. I was truly ‘weathered’. To conclude, I will return to my experience of watching the purple-grey clouds stacked atop one another at the beginning of the monsoon. As I watched the clouds glide over me, caught up in the sheer beauty of it, I forgot to seek shelter, getting drenched in the bargain. An insightful learning that I unpacked in the following weeks emerged — the knowing that for better or for worse we are bound to and are intrinsically connected to the cycles of this planet; a simultaneously frightening and liberating thought. It was frightening to notice the increasing disconnection between the Earth, the ball of matter we inhabit, and the sentience on which we are so completely dependent upon in order to thrive. It was liberating because, in the experience of staying present to the sky with attention, I was able to see the huge impact that we too have as agents within the ‘fourfold’, to remedy this disconnection and all the possibilities that entails. 


[1]Kim Etherington, Becoming a Reflexive Researcher: Using Ourselves in Research(London: Jessica Kingsley, 2004): pp. 7 and 36.

[2]Maurice Merleau-Ponty, The Phenomenology of Perception, trans. Routledge and Kegan Paul (London: Routledge, 2005 [1945]), p. 73.

[3]Merleau-Ponti, Phenomenology of Perception,p. vii.

[4]Laura Sewall, ‘The Skill of Ecological Perception’ in T. Roszak, M. E. Gomes and A. D. Kanner (eds.), Ecopsychology: Restoring the Earth, Healing the Mind (San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 1995):pp.201-215.

[5]Martin Heidegger, ‘Building, Dwelling, Thinking’ in Poetry, Language, Thought(1971) at http://ssbothwell.com/documents/ebooksclub.org__Poetry__Language__Thought__Perennial_Classics_.pdf [accessed 3 July 2018]. pp.145 -147. 

[6]Heidegger, ‘Building, Dwelling, Thinking’,  p.147.

[7]Heidegger, ‘Building, Dwelling, Thinking’,  p.147.

[8]Alexandra Harris, Weatherland: Writers and Artists Under English Skies(London:Thames and Hudson, 2016): p.210.

[9]Christopher Tilley, Metaphor and Material Culture (Oxford: Blackwell, 1999): p.76. 

[10]British Museum,  Indra and the Monsoons (2002) at www.ancientindia.co.uk [accessed 10 August 2018].

[11]Heidegger, ‘Building, Dwelling, Thinking’,  pp.145–147.

[12]H. Vadlamani, 2016. ‘Across Goa, youth are jumping into wells today to celebrate the Sao Joao monsoon festival’ (2016) at https://scroll.in/article/810545/across-goa-youth-are-jumping-into-wells-today-to-celebrate-the-sao-joao-monsoon-festival [accessed 10 August 2018].

[13]Tim Ingold, ‘Earth, Sky, Wind and Weather’ in The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, vol.13 (2007): p.S25.

[14]Harris, Weatherland, p. 288.

[15]Harris, Weatherland,p. 288.

[16]Sewall, ‘Skill of Ecological Perception’, pp. 201-215.

[17]Bruno Latour, Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-Network-Theory(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005): pp. 63-86. 

[18]Hesiod, ‘Works and Days, in The Homeric Hymns and Homerica, including ‘Works and Days’ and ‘Theogonis’,trans. Hugh G. Evelyn-White, (Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1917), lines 609-617.

[19]Heidegger, ‘Building, Dwelling, Thinking’,pp.145 -147. 

[20]Virgil, Georgics, 2:325-27 cited in Harris, Weatherland, p.94.

[21]Harris, Weatherland,p.114.