How Far South Can You See?

this week. Its name is Orion.

Orion represents a great hunter, with its vertical rectangle of bright stars marking his shoulders and knees, and the three equally bright stars in a straight line forming his belt. What’s nice about Orion is that it lies directly over the Earth’s equator and can be seen from everywhere on the planet.

This means that, if we were to stand on the equator and look skyward, Orion would pass directly overhead; from the North Pole, these same stars would appear split by our southern horizon. And from viewpoints in between, Orion would appear at different heights above our southern horizon.

Everyone in North America can see Orion during evening hours right now, and can trace its belt stars eastward toward the star Sirius -- the brightest in all the nighttime sky. But another bright star lies south of Orion, and only those who live in, or travel to, more southerly latitudes can see it.

Named Canopus, this bright star is easily visible to stargazers near and south of the equator. But, if you live farther north than about 37 degrees latitude, you can never see Canopus in your sky.

At a latitude of 37 degrees, you would need a perfectly clear view toward the south to get a glimpse of Canopus as it clears the southern horizon for only a few minutes during February evenings.

Farther south of 37 degrees, Canopus appears higher in the south and adds the nighttime’s second brightest star to an already sparkling February sky. This demonstration is possible only because our Earth is not flat; if it were, we would see the same stars wherever on Earth we stood. But, because our planet is spherical, traveling north and

Snistle While You Work

BY TRACY BECKERMAN

“You were making some weird noises last night when you were sleeping,” I said to my husband as I made the bed. He was shaving in the bathroom and stuck his head out to protest.

“Two weeks ago, you said I was talking in my sleep, and now I’m making weird noises?” he replied. “So, what now? Was I snoring?”

“No, it wasn’t snoring.”

“Was it a nose whistle?” he asked. It occurred to me that this was something one can only ask a spouse after 30 years of marriage.

“No, it was somewhere between a snore and a whistle,” I said.

“So, it was a snistle,” he said confidently.

“Not really,” I said. “It was more assertive than that.”

“So, it was more like a snort,” he said.

“It was like a snort, but it was more prolonged.”

“How is that different than snoring?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but it was, and it kept me up,” I complained.

Apparently, my husband decided that this piece of information was not worth any more of his time, and he went back to shaving. But I was bothered. It was less about the fact that he kept me up the night before and more to do with my inability to accurately describe the sound coming out of his nose. It was less noisy than a jackhammer but more resonant than a drone. It was almost like he was snoring and laughing at the same time, which I suppose would make it a sniggle, but even that wasn’t quite right.

It was possible that there was an actual medical term for this, so I decided to look it up on the internet. But when south changes the positions of familiar stars in our sky, and brings to our eyes a whole new set of stars to enjoy.

I checked WebMD, I found out that the medical term for snoring is “snoring” and the symptoms are... snoring. This is kind of like when you look up the ingredients on a carton of milk and it says, “contains milk.” The website also said if you have persistent snoring, you should consult a doctor. But I wondered if the same were true if you experienced snistling, snorting or sniggling when you slept.

The next night my husband was quiet while he slept. The good news was I was able to get a decent night’s sleep. The bad news was it was impossible for me to do further research into this whole snoozing issue.

As we lay in bed the following evening reading, we heard a loud, buzzsaw-like sound from the floor below.

“What is that sound?” I asked. My husband leaned forward and bent his head over the foot of the bed.

Visit Dennis Mammana at dennismammana.com. . COPYRIGHT 2023 CREATORS.COM

“It’s the dog. He’s snoring.”

I looked at the dog laying prone on the carpet and listened for a moment.

“I don’t think that’s snoring,” I said. “It sounds more like a series of woofs.”

“So, you think he’s snoofing?” said my husband.

“I don’t know if he’s snoring or snoofing or snistling or snorting. But I do know one thing.”

“What’s that?” said my husband.

I got up and shooed the dog out the door.

“He’s sleeping in another room.”

Tracy Beckerman is the author of the Amazon Bestseller, “Barking at the Moon: A Story of Life, Love, and Kibble,” available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble online! You can visit her at www. tracybeckerman.com. .

COPYRIGHT 2023 CREATORS