Star Spinning

By Dennis Lantz

The recipe is simple: a starry night, an open field, a dash of motion and a smidgen of magic. The results are a whole lot of fun.

Stars. We gaze at them. We imagine images of ancient heroes and villains hiding within them. They guided our ancestors on spiritual and physical journeys. Some people think we came from them… others think we should go there. (I am in the latter group. Hey, not like you have enough to worry about with the novel coronavirus, a disrupted economy and murder hornets… but the sun isn’t going to last forever. One day it is going to swallow up those tasty little planets that surround it… and us. Stick around a few million years and you may witness this!)

But I digress. While staying in Gentlewoods, I learned something else about the stars… you can make them spin.

Here is what I wrote then.

7/19 - Night of the spinning stars!!!! We walked up into the field… and eventually up to the house. On the way we noticed that the stars were very visible.

“Down here on the Colorado River there must be millions… billions!!!” (5/23/2020 note –that is a reference, if not a direct quote from The Fire Next Time, a two-part television movie starring Bonnie Bedelia and Craig T. Nelson. We watched it that summer. One of my favorite versions of the song ‘I Got A Home In That Rock’ is in that movie. I couldn’t find it to share, but you can check out a different style here. The movie song is bluesy and vastly superior.)

We spun around in circles with our eyes to the heavens. We spun until we fell. First we seemed to be spinning slowly and all of a sudden everything sped up dramatically. We ran around like frenzied Bacchanals, just plain drunk on life. We fell down onto the spikes of cut hay and rolled upon their dew dampened kingdom like pigs in the mud. We were high out there in the stars.

Tucker came down to check us out; he had been at the house and he didn’t seem very interested in joining us. It was being a kid again. I was completely in the present. Life is good.

5/23/20 – Tucker was my dog. I will write about him later because he occasionally stayed with us. I would say he was the most awesome dog ever, but my current pooch might disagree. They had/have different personalities and attributes. So we’ll just call it a tie.

Anyway, I like to think that Mark and I invented this, but that seems rather unlikely. Humans, and proto-humans have been watching the stars since we crawled out of Eden, or whatever. I’m sure some Neanderthal child made the stars spin, but I can’t give her credit because she didn’t write it down.

In the years since 1995, I have shown many people… and they are all amazed by the experience. Some tell me they have done it before, but then admit they have never experienced such magic.

Beware! Star spinning is a young person’s sport. I cannot be liable for any injuries or death. Try this at your own risk.

I am not an ageist or whatever you call someone who discriminates against the elderly. But I am a realist.  If you are easily wounded, prone to bruising or bone fracture, please do not attempt this. Instead, tell the youngsters how to do it and just watch them. You will laugh as much as if you did it yourself.

Start by going to a wide open area. A soft lawn works fine as long as there are no obstacles to trip over or holes to fall into. It’s important to understand that you will stumble all over the place. You need to give yourself room. A hayfield is good, but make sure there aren’t prickly stubs to tumble on… or woodchuck holes to twist an ankle.

Ready… you are on location.

Set… stand still and lift your head as straight up as you can manage. Look to the stars. Admire them, but don’t lose yourself in their beauty.

Go… now turn slowly. You do not need to go fast. Keep your eyes affixed to the heavens.

After a few seconds, the stars will begin to blend together… you will say ‘wow’… and suddenly… well, I don’t want to give away the ending. Keep going. After you fall (and you will), try to get up and do it again. Some people cannot manage this right away.

Until next time,

Read, Learn, Live 

Photo by Christine Lantz