Starry Nights:

How long will the skies of cottage country stay dark?
Whether it is counting the shooting stars of mid-August’s Perseid meteor shower, hunting for the bright jewels in Orion’s Belt, standing awe-struck under the rippling, mysterious dance of the Aurora Borealis, or just gazing northward to the familiar shape of the Big Dipper, enjoying clear, dark night skies is one of the traditional pleasures of cottage country. How many times have we all had guests or visiting family members stare up in wonder from the beach or deck and say: “You don’t see stars like that in the city!”
But what happens when the city comes to the country?
Pollution of air and water are not the only types of contaminants introduced by human activity as once-rural areas are subjected to the stress of increasing urbanization and population growth. Noise pollution and light pollution are equally rampant and insidious. And, of all these, light pollution may be the least noticed as it spreads. Until the stars are gone.
There is a reason, in addition to clear, dry desert or mountaintop air, why major observatories are located in areas remote from major urban centres. Artificial light from streetlamps, mall parking lots, houses and office buildings, acts like an obscuring filter, washing out and hiding the natural beauty of the night sky.
Nor is this a purely aesthetic issue. Humans and human physiology evolved over millions of years in a natural environment where approximately half the diurnal cycle was dark. Recent medical studies have shown that we need darkness for proper sleep and proper function of our endocrinal system, in particular, the pineal gland. Without even realizing it, in our artificially-lit, round-the-clock, modern world we are in danger of becoming not only sleep-starved, but darkness-starved.
No one — even the most ardent environmentalist — would suggest that all forms of artificial outdoor lighting are unnecessary or injurious. The problem is that, in many instances, the type and power of lighting used is like using a fire hose to water a single petunia: far too much wattage applied far too indiscriminately.
It is not necessary for municipal streetlights, microwave tower safety lights or shopping centre parking lot lighting to scatter light in all directions, contributing to a general sky-obscuring haze. Specially designed, shielded light fixtures direct more light down, where actually needed, with less waste and lower energy costs. At least one neighbouring municipality has adopted a proactive policy in this regard, with the creation of a dark-sky preserve, where such measures to reduce and prevent light pollution from outdoor lighting are actively mandated and encouraged.
In a time of energy shortages, with rolling brown-outs or blackouts a real prospect on the horizon, the house or cottage blazing with outside floodlights all night long, imitating the mother ship in Close Encounters of the Third Kind — whether the owners are in residence or not — has gone beyond an exercise in conspicuous consumption or mere lack of consideration to neighbours, to outright social irresponsibility. Lower-wattage, lower-mounted types of lighting will do the job just as well or better from both a safety and aesthetic perspective. A properly adjusted motion detector light is more effective as a security device than a floodlight left on at all times, simply advertising the owner’s absence, or indifference to what is going on outside.
From earliest times, our human species has had an ambivalent relationship with the night: awestruck at its celestial wonders and, at the same time, afraid of its unseen terrors. The gift of fire was the first security light, serving to keep lurking cave bears and sabre tooth tigers at bay in the darkness. It seems that the same primordial urge to slay the darkness with as much light as possible is still in many of us, along with much other unnecessary evolutionary baggage. We have just replaced bonfires at the cave mouth with 2,000 watt pole-mounted “security lights”.
But, for those coming to this beautiful part of the world seeking recreation or retirement, to leave the city for the country only to turn the country into an imitation of the city — floodlit and halogen-bleared — certainly involves a haziness of vision, in more ways than one.
Whether the skies of cottage country stay dark depends upon each of us. At last report, there were very few cave bears in Tiny Township. And all the sabre tooth tigers are friendly. We can safely turn off and turn down the lights, to enjoy the starry, dark night sky as generations in Tiny have enjoyed it before us.