Long ago, I began by following the first amateur astronomers who, fleeing from the light pollution in the plains, would scan our clear skies with their large and small optical instruments to observe the deep infinity. At the beginning, I would follow the light beam of some keen astronomer who would point his torch to the sky to show amateurs, like myself, the stars and the most important constellations. The planets and their satellites orbiting around the sun and lit by the star. The astrolabe, unintelligible at first, would become essential to identify the constellations and their apparent motion all year round.
Later, I timidly ventured closer to their telescopes in order to understand their operating principles and see further in deep space. Galaxies, nebulae, clusters, old stars dying out, and supernovae, everything incredibly far away. Light-year away galaxies, one is our own, that cannot be recognized with the naked eye. Thinking about the Milky Way as one of these galaxies, without getting lost in the deep sky, has always been very difficult for me.
With remote technological devices connected to the observatories, the visits of amateur astronomers have become less frequent than they used to be, but they have been replaced by the photographers who can capture all the fascination of the night sky with their digital technology. The photographs of the Milky Way and of the Dolomites have become a must also for amateur photographers.
Getting older, I myself have got back to looking at the sky with the naked eye, but I am still fascinated by moon cycles and the motion of summer and winter constellations, amazed at recognizing the stars and remembering their names.
A starry sky and its motion are an incomparable sight, they give peacefulness and remind of the slow passing of the seasons of bygone days.