The Observatory · Thursday evening, · the feast of S. Nicholas
Dear Reader, —
You have wandered, by some turning or other, into a small private register kept under the name a6c.xyz. It is not an enterprise, nor a service, nor an invitation to a community. It is a cabinet — walnut, locked with a brass key — in which certain observations, certain sentences, and certain worthwhile silences are kept for later.
The contents will change with the seasons. New studies will be added in the long winter evenings, and old ones moved, without ceremony, to the lower drawers. Nothing will be announced. No list will be maintained of those who have visited, and none will be solicited.
If you have enjoyed your half-hour here, consider closing the browser gently and going to a window. If a clear sky offers itself, look up for ten minutes, without reaching for any device, and count the stars you can identify by name. That is the whole of what is asked.
Yours, in the habit of the slow hour,
— The Keeper of the Private Catalogue
P.S. — The orbital rings drawn around certain entries are not diagrams of anything. They are decoration, and they are also a form of honest superstition.