Transcript:
"What else, Brian? You’ve been with me when the owls swoop at us…” [Scott asks Brian, who is standing next to him in the dark outside of the Frosty Drew Observatory.]
“Right… I’m sure there are deer,” [Brain replies.]
“Yeah, we get the deer — they come through. There was a rumor that there was a cougar in there, but I don’t know…” [Scotts recalls skeptically.]
I spoke with Scott MacNeill and Brian Kelley, volunteers at the Frosty Drew Observatory and Science Center which is located at Ninigret Park on the south coast of Rhode Island. The area is home to a number of species of birds, toads, cotton tails rabbits, coyotes, and other woodland animals. It's one of the darkest places on the east coast due its isolated location on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean. It's not unusual for Scott, who is the director of the observatory, to come across some surprising guests.
"The coyotes are a regular thing, especially during the nights when you’re by yourself. Because when you’re by yourself the coyotes are a little bit more bold. They’ll come out, they’ll circle around. They don’t approach you, but they’ll go anywhere you’ve been,” [Scott explains.] “Our public night is on Friday nights but we’re out here a lot doing other work on the non-public nights and on those nights — somethings it’s just me, sometimes it’s just another astronomer — And those are the nights where you really get your time with the wildlife.”
Scott often finds intruders in the observatory and in the science center located nearby. Scott and Brian claim to have come across everything from snapping turtles to black widow spiders.
“Actually, was it the mouse or the toad, that actually came into the observatory?” [Brain asks.]
“The toad was the one that kept trying to get in,” [Scott interjects.] “It was that big toad, almost for an entire summer, was just hellbent on getting into this observatory.”
The Frosty Drew is open to the public on clear Friday nights after dark, and people stand in line by the dozens, sometimes on cold winter evenings, to get a view of the planets, stars, and other celestial objects. It's a round building with a domed roof, intersected by a hatch where the telescope peaks out from. It's dark here, and the only illumination comes from red guide lights and the occasional approaching car. You can hear waves crashing in the distance. Occasionally a passing plane. Inside the dome people whisper to one another and ethereal music plays. There is nervous anticipation as each visitor climbs the stairs to the eye piece and peaks in quietly — it's as if everyone is afraid of waking the dark.
[music interlude]
"I have had an interest in astronomy for a pretty long time. And, as a Christmas present a few years ago, my Mom found this observatory and was like, ‘we’re gonna go out here one night and it’s going to be really fun. And so, I came out here, and it was super cool — I didn’t really know what was happening, I just loved being out here," [Marielle, a volunteer at the observatory, recalls.] “I come from just outside of Boston and so when you come here you just see all of the stars — it just gives you like this, WOW!” Marielle treks over an hour to be a part of the experience. We speak in almost what feel to me like complete darkness inside the observatory as my eyes adjust.
Like Marielle, I found the Frosty Drew just a few years ago. There is something magical about the place and the community of people with a shared interest in peaking in on the vast universe. This place is a magnet for those seeking dark. Civilization is just far enough away to make you forget it here. It's a place of real quiet.
I can't help but feel like an invader here — like the nocturnal animals at the edge of the preserve are waiting for us to leave to reclaim their space. Scott told me that when he leaves his camera out at night to timelapse the night sky, the first set of images are often of dozens of blurry coyote faces. They want to see what the human is up to, he said. We too must be a thing of wonder to them, mysterious figures under a canopy of stars.
During the pandemic I would something drive to the closed observatory and sit in the parking lot for some amount of time. The hooting of owls, the chirping frogs, and the occasional wild chorus gave me solace. "Life goes on," I thought, even when the whole human world has come to a grinding halt. Every now and then a plane would cross the pristine starry night sky — disrupting the quiet with a rumbling thunder as it passed. I would track the big dipper, Vega, the belt of the Milky Way, and feel like a tiny part of a vast and unknowable thing. Eventually, I would get back in my car and drive home, returning to a broken and unsettling world that I did not feel a part of.
I asked Scott, Brian, and Marielle what got them into astronomy in the first place, and they all gave the same basic answer: in their own way it was about escape. They each travel some distance to a remote place to be part of the quiet and dark — a community of seekers amongst nocturnal animals to spend time with objects billions of light years away.
Even if humans one day achieve Star Trek level exploration, boldly going into the beyond, and sending ships to the far reaches of the galaxy, we will still be the aliens. Invasive species leaving our natural habitat. A pale blue dot surrounded by the infinity of space. A place we share with the insects and animals.
Interviews:
Scott MacNeill, Brian Kelley, audio interview at Frosty Drew Observatory. 2024.
Marielle (Frosty Drew volunteer), audio interview at Frosty Drew Observatory. 2024.
Music:
Sleepless by Clavier
Mystical Place by LIECIO
Noodle High by Noisysymphony (Kushal Rajkarnikar)
All other sounds recorded by Mark Kraus
