The other perspective isn’t so grand anymore. From well-lighted cities the skies appear dark. Too much interfering light rising from below and overwhelming the stars almost as effectively as the noon sun. Got to go into the wilderness, maybe Patagonia, maybe the Chilean Andes, or the Nevadan desert to see stars.
Go to Mono Lake on a clear night. Bright stars all the way to the horizon. Same on a darkened ship Mid-Pacific. What are we doing? More than half the people have little idea of the surrounding celestial lights. From the dark we see. Living in light means seeing little.
Why should we care? Well, for one reason alone. The stars drove ancients to wonder. Sure, we know what those bodies are now, and we have catalogued many of the nearest suns, but that’s not wonder. Wonder comes with mystery. Wonder comes with questions. What’s “up” there?
Of course, we know the “up” is all around us. We’ve seen the “up” from the perspective of space telescopes, astronauts on our moon, and distant planetary probes. The ancients had no real idea. Thus, their wonder.
In the wash of light the dark skies over cities beg no questions. Just remember that although those ancients didn’t know what the celestial lights were, they did initiate the wonder that resulted in our knowledge.
The path to knowledge is paved with wonder.