The constellation Lyra is faint, but it contains one of the brightest stars in the sky, Vega. As soon as it gets dark enough after sunset, around 10 p.m., look for the brightest star you can see in the high eastern sky. You can’t miss it. That’s Vega, a star more than 25 light years away, or about 146 trillion miles distant. The light we see from Vega tonight left that star when Ronald Reagan was in his first term as president.
Seeing the rest of the constellation Lyra is fairly easy, but you need to have a reasonably dark sky, at least some distance from heavy city lighting. Face eastward and gaze high up at Vega. Then look for a small parallelogram just to the lower right of Vega. That’s all there is to Lyra.
According to Greek and Roman legend, Lyra is supposed to be a lyre or harp, given by the god Apollo to the famous poet and musician Orpheus. That isn’t the only story about Lyra, however. Different ancient cultures have different stories for the constellations. I really like the Chinese story about Lyra. I hope you will too.
The story goes like this. Once there was a young man named Tung Yung who was born into a wealthy family. Tung Yung’s early years were carefree, growing up in a castle with a huge backyard. When he reached his teens, though, hard times hit his family. There were severe droughts. Crops failed year after year, and soon the family fortune had dwindled down to small change. On top of that, a disease spread over the countryside and took the lives of all of his siblings, and his father also took ill. Tung Yung was the only one left who was physically able to bring in money for what was left of his family, his mother and his ailing father. But there was no work, no jobs. Out of desperation he hung a sign over his head at the market place and sold himself off as a slave. When he was bought, he sent the money to his folks and Tung Yung was off to a grueling life of slavery.
He was forced to work in the fields from sunrise to sunset, and when he returned home to his one-room hut he was often too exhausted to make dinner. Day after day after day he went through this ordeal, and soon his own health started to fail.
The Chinese god of the sun saw all this from his perch in heaven and took great pity on Tung Yung. He sent his daughter Chih Nu, the goddess of weaving, to Tung Yung’s side in his hut to nurse him back to good health. She gave him some heavenly care, supper every night, and had his bed ready for him. Soon his health returned and eventually Tung Yung married Chih Nu. They even had a son together.
While he was away at work, she stayed in the hut and used her godly talents to weave absolutely wonderful tapestries with her magic loom. She would then sell them for a handsome price at the market. She soon raised enough money to buy Tung Yung out of slavery. As her tapestry business grew, more and more money was coming into the family and soon Tung Yung and Chih Nu had their own farm.
A few years later when they were living the good life, Chih Nu realized that her mission was done and she was to return to heaven. After a tearful farewell, she climbed back into heaven and as she did, all the stars brightened and one brand new, very bright star appeared. The star we now call Vega was the new light created by Chih Nu. Next to Vega are four stars shaped like a parallelogram, which makes up Chih Nu’s magic loom.
Now there’s a well-woven tale.
Mike Lynch is an amateur astronomer and professional broadcast meteorologist for WCCO Radio in Minneapolis and author of the new book “Washington Starwatch,” available at bookstores and on his Web site, www.lynchandthestars.com.
Talk to us
> Give us your news tips.
> Send us a letter to the editor.
> More Herald contact information.
