A Stellar Re-Awakening: Rediscovering Myself Beneath A Dark Sky

I’m Ziz Knight, co-founder and former outreach coordinator for DarkSky LA County. I’d like to share the story of how I rekindled my connection with the night sky—a journey that spans from the quiet fields of Eastern Iowa, through the bright chaos of Los Angeles, to the serene mountains of Colorado.

Under Iowa’s Infinite Night

In the '90s and early 2000s, I grew up in Eastern Iowa, where the night sky was my constant companion, my window into the infinite cosmos. In Cedar Rapids, a small city where even the Milky Way could be glimpsed, and especially in the countryside, the night unfurled like a boundless ocean, jeweled with the delicate shimmer of distant stars.

One of my earliest memories of the night sky is of my father pointing out the Pleiades, teaching me to catch a clearer view of the Seven Sisters by peeking out from the corner of my eye. I was only four or five then, absorbing lessons not only about the heavens, but also about the Greek myths woven into their names, and about the marvels and limitations of human sight.

I remember the excitement of witnessing the Hale-Bopp comet streak across the sky in '96-'97, and how we playfully joked that it was named after my mother, affectionately nicknamed "Bop" by my grandfather. I recall long, dark drives home from my cousins’ house in rural Iowa, my forehead pressed against the cold car window, eyes fixed on the stars. There wasn’t much to do on those trips back home except lose myself in the night, in the stars that seemed to sing in a language of their own.

But as I grew older, the enchantment and gravitational allure of the celestial bodies slowly weakened, and my connection to that vast, mysterious sky was lost in the noise of life.

Seeking the Stars in Los Angeles

In 2010, I left Iowa—a place where I had never truly felt at home. My then-boyfriend’s acceptance into USC’s film scoring program was my ticket out, and so I moved to Los Angeles, a city I had never envisioned for myself. Despite my California roots—my father’s family were from Southern California—I had never felt drawn to LA. But the desire to escape Iowa was stronger than my reservations, and so I embarked on a new chapter in the City of Angels, where I would live for the next 13 years.

For much of that time, the night sky was merely a distant memory, fading like a red-shifted star drifting ever further from my consciousness. The city's bright lights and the demands of life buried my longing for the stars. But in 2023, after years of feeling detached, a deep, insatiable yearning surged within me to reconnect with the universe, to once again stand beneath a canopy of stars, under a sky full of celestial light, and contemplate my place within it all. I knew that rediscovering myself meant rediscovering the night sky.

The Awakening: Discovering DarkSky

As I sought out stargazing spots in Los Angeles, the harsh reality of the city’s light pollution hit me hard. I had understood that more light meant fewer visible stars, but the extent of its impact now felt overwhelming. Even during my occasional visits back to Iowa, the night sky appeared duller, its brilliance marred by the encroaching lights of rural expansion and the rolling blanket of ghostly flickers produced by wind turbines. The Milky Way, once a luminous river that spilled across the sky, had become a mere echo of a memory.

In my search for dark skies, I stumbled upon the Mt. Wilson Observatory website, which introduced me to DarkSky International (then known as the International Dark-Sky Association). Intrigued, I dove into their mission, a quest to reclaim the night from the formidable glow of artificial light. It was a call I couldn’t ignore, so I signed up as an advocate.

When I joined, I was surprised to find that Los Angeles, despite its vast sprawl and blinding lights, had no DarkSky chapter. It seemed inconceivable that such a city, with its rich history of stargazing and astronomy, lacked a community dedicated to preserving the night. That’s when I met Anna Josenhans, who shared my passion and concern. Together, we set out to create what Los Angeles so desperately needed: a DarkSky chapter.

Neither of us had experience in starting such a group, but our determination was stronger than our doubts. We poured our hearts into building DarkSky LA County, and I’m incredibly proud of what we achieved. We forged a community, learned valuable lessons, and most importantly, we found others who shared our love and passion for the night sky.

A New Dawn in Colorado

As winter approached in 2023, I made the difficult decision to leave LA and move to Colorado, a place I had always dreamed of living. Colorado’s vast landscapes and the profound stillness of its dark skies beckoned me, offering a new beginning and a chance to further my connection to the universe. Saying goodbye to the LA County chapter was bittersweet, but I knew it was time to embark on a new adventure.

Joining DarkSky has been more rewarding than I ever imagined. It helped me rediscover the stars and, in doing so, rediscover myself. I gained skills I never thought I’d learn, met wonderful people who share my passions, and it reconnected me with the night sky—that same window into the vast, incredible universe I gazed out from as a child. I am forever grateful for this journey, and I look forward to the new horizons that lie ahead knowing that my connection to myself and to the night will never be lost to me again.

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