From "Bob, the Ugly Squirrel"

One of the quiet gifts of creating 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑𝑠 𝐴𝑚ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡 has been discovering where it travels – and who it keeps company with.

I recently received a handwritten letter from 𝐁𝐨𝐛 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥, a longtime reader and friend of the calendar, writing from California. Bob has written before about how he uses our wall calendar as a companion for looking up – especially when the sky has something special to offer.

Bob shared this account of a mid-December night he recently spent watching the Geminids meteor shower:

𝐈 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐬. 𝐃𝐞𝐜. 𝟏𝟐–𝟏𝟒 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐬…

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐨, 𝟐𝟎 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐥 𝐂𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨. 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨 – 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞.

𝟏:𝟐𝟎 𝐀𝐌 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝟏𝟎𝟎% 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 – 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐲. 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 - 𝐝𝐨𝐠 - 𝐎𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲.

𝐀𝐭 𝟐:𝟐𝟎 𝐀𝐌 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝟏𝟎𝟎! 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬… 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩.

𝟓𝟕°. 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

(And then, with a sign-off that still makes me smile: "𝐵𝑜𝑏, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑔𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑙.")

I love this letter not just for its poetry and precision, but for what it represents – someone far from the Valley, standing on the side of a road in the dark, counting meteors, orienting himself by constellations, using the sky as both map and meaning.

That’s what Head in the Clouds Amherst has always hoped to be: an invitation to notice. To be curious. To step outside, literally or figuratively, and look up.

As we head into 2026, my wish for all of us is simple: may you find moments like Bob’s. Clear skies. Unexpected beauty. And reasons to pause, tilt your head back, and remember you’re part of something vast and wonderful.

Here’s to a new year full of clouds, stars, stories – and the people who take the time to notice them.

(Alas, I did not take this photo of the Geminds over the desert southwest, but I like to think this is what Bob was seeing. Credit: ABC News)