Think of all the stars in our universe like all the grains of sand on all the beaches on Earth. A number so vast, so incalculable, that for sake of argument, you could claim there is an infinite number of grains. When, in reality, it’s a finite number. At some point, the depth of sand ends, becoming rock or some other substantial substance. Expanding out, the sandbox of earth has a measurable limit at the highest mountain top, to the outer layer of atmosphere surrounding our planet.
In a single lifetime, there is no possibility of counting these grains of sand. New ones are constantly being created, just as old ones cease to exist, but there is a theoretical end to them.
Scientific principles tell us that our universe is ever-expanding, so we could postulate that new stars, much like new grains of sand, are constantly being formed as old stars die out.
We know that the stars we view in our night skies are millions of miles out in space. That based on the speed of light, these stars may have died eons ago and we are only now seeing their brilliance.
Now, speculate that our universe is fixed. That instead of expanding, it’s collapsing upon itself. That as old stars die, no new stars are created. That at some point in our existence, what we see as stars are only the lingering echo of their life force. That some day, in the not too distant future, those stars we are so familiar with, begin to blink out.
Our Milky Way slowly becomes darker and darker, as one by one, the last remnants of those last stars fade away until the only star remaining is our own sun… then it too implodes.
Perhaps we are at the beginning of the end of our days. As each star ceases to exist, the accumulation of their final measure of light and energy ripples through the universe, spawning hurricanes, deadly winter storms, earthquakes, tsunamis, and tornadoes.
When was the last time you gazed at the night sky, searching for familiar stars and constellations?
*Photo venue: Henderson Beach State Park, Destin, FL
Thin spiral notebook 
Love it!
There is probably just enough matter in the universe to close it, so oscillation is a strong (and awesome) possibility. I’m not a scientist, yet I find myself thinking about this. All. The. Time.
“…She looked at the blanket of stars and could instantly feel in her heart not only the distance from the source of each point of light to where she stood, but also the age of the light that reached into her eyes. If she wasn’t careful, she would get a sense of the cumulative age of all the starlight within her sight. The millions of years it took just one star’s glow to reach her was quite enough, thank you. To add them all together was unthinkable, even to her brain, accustomed as it was by now to sensing vast measures of space and time. She exhaled slowly and completely, then turned her full attention to the matter at hand. Looking up at the night sky had helped, as always. If she could handle that, then surely she could manage the silly little problems presented by her meager existence here…”
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I gaze out at the sky every night, but it’s easy for me. I live outdoors. I am awed by the difference in the sky here. I grew up with Northern Lights lighting up the sky with all its energy and activity, and it just seems like the Big Dipper is always angled differently here in the south. That and no more aurora borealis…
The life as we know is slowly fading. The poles are on they’re way for a switch over and it may even be sooner than later. This is all scary though!
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Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine today? 😉 I do sometimes wonder about where we are in the grand scheme of things, but I can’t focus on it. If I can’t control it… what’s the use? I’d make a good recovering alcoholic, wouldn’t I?
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I start to think about this and I feel so small and insignificant I have to stop. Gorgeous photo. Wish I was there!!!
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When I think about it, it scares me. It could be at any given moment, we could become one of those shooting stars plunging through the sky. Hopefully, we won’t. At least, not in this lifetime. OK…this post gave me chills.
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I did so over the weekend on a particularly clear and chilly night, thinking I’d found the little dipper and remaining confused as to which constellation is which. It’s the big dipper that is more commonly seen, right? Great piece, btw.
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I don’t know which I find to be more disappointing – the notion that our Universe is expanding at an ever-accelerating pace, destined to grow cold and dark, or that our Universe will one day implode, as it once EXploded into existence. In either case, I will not live long enough to see it, nor will my children, nor their children, nor the children that come after them. But still, the ultimate fate of the Universe is, in either case, not the end I would prefer. In a way, it’s too bad we have come to know so much. I think I would prefer a world in which there was still some mystery.
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This is so good it gave me chills. The photo is stunning.
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