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[Music fades]

HALEY HOWLE From Pop-Up Magazine, this is Field Guide, an audio experience made for the world around us. I’m Haley Howle.

Today?… the Night Sky.

[Smooth, slow, ambient electronic instrumental]

I generally take it for granted that every night the world completely changes. That when the sun goes down and the stars come out, things become different. And it’s not for everyone. We’ve got our night owls and our early birds. But there are some things that only happen once the sun goes down.

[Night birds tittering]

Plants and animals that only come out at night. People too. And whether you see it or not, every night the sky puts on a show. And I realized, I don’t look up enough.

[Upward chord progression of four notes]

So, I want to take this time to remind you to look up.

[Silence; then lo-fi, anticipatory beat drops]

I hope you’ll listen to this episode at night — it could be in bed or while you cook dinner. Or, you could go outside, look up, and listen to these stories about our mysterious world at night.

We also made a visual Field Guide to go along with this series. You can check it out at popupmagazine.com.

All right, here we go.

[Music fades out]

EVGENIA ARBUGAEVA My name is Evgenia Arbugaeva and I'm a photographer. Originally, I'm from a small town called Tiksi in the Russian Arctic.

[Sweet, ambient piano music with wind chimes]

When you live above the Arctic Circle, it can be up to three months of full darkness, and you don't see sun at all. And it can be quite difficult because, you know, it feels like you're just living one long night.

[Wind pans across from left to right]

But at the same time, it's a really mysterious and beautiful time. It just feels very special and, and so on my way to school, when I was going to school, I could just walk this little road and just look up at the sky and see the Aurora Borealis and stars. And I don't remember the first time I saw Aurora. I, I feel like I always have been seeing it, all my life — every winter almost.

[Footsteps crunching in stiff grass]

The last time I saw Aurora was in a town called Dickson. People used to call it the capital of the Russian Arctic back in the USSR. But right now, it's an abandoned town. It's quite eerie. And when I got there, it was actually too dark, I realized, because, you know, I couldn't take any pictures.

But then after I think about two weeks of wandering around in dark streets, all of a sudden, Aurora just exploded in the sky.

[Synthesizer builds as if to explosion]

It was so beautiful and also very low. I felt like I could almost touch its needles it was so low. It was this neon green color, and actually, it was so bright that it was almost difficult to look at it. It's very hard to put into words, but it does something to you. It's just — kind of touches something that nothing else can.

[Ambient music fades out and crossfades into bird sounds, as if on the coast of an ocean]

STOKEY WOODALL Uh well, my name, Stokey Woodall, l live on the Isle of Wight in the UK. My profession is I'm a professional, uh, captain.

[Bird sounds mix with sound of waves on a shore]

Well, my first, uh, delivery was a bit of a disaster timewise, which was to take a boat from Oslo in Norway to the British Virgin Islands via Antigua.

[Wave sounds shift, as if we’ve left the shore and are out on the water in a boat]

And because there was no satellite information or stuff like that in 1978, we had to navigate then with the stars. So, actually, it was a necessity for me to learn to be able to do that. And I remember approaching Antigua.

[Ethereal notes enter and hold]

And it’s one of the most spectacular sights I've ever seen. And the moon was on the horizon in front of me and the sun was on the horizon behind me. You know and we just sailed nearly four-and-a-half thousand miles, all the way from Europe on a 27-foot yacht just by using the stars. And the sights that you get out there because there is no light pollution.

[Twinkly notes and bells come in, mixed with water, birds, and nature sounds]

You see the Milky Way, I mean, your planets, meteor showers, you know, and in fact, even though we had a tough trip, actually stopping was actually a disappointment.

[Reflective, reverberating guitar chords]

And when you think, “Is there anything else out there?” Once you're out there and you've got no light pollution, it is as near to heaven as you're ever going to get.

[Nature sounds fade out, and music crossfades into single, holding note]

AVI LOEB We now know that about half of the sun-like stars have a planet the size of the Earth, roughly at the same separation as the Earth is from the sun. The Earth-sun system appears to be a common occurrence, and there are billions of such systems just within the Milky Way alone. And so that to me illustrates that we are not special or unique.

[Contemplative, space-like ambient music holds in long notes]

My name is Avi Loeb uh, and I'm a professor of science at Harvard University. My main, uh, interests involve, uh, the first, uh, generation of stars in the universe, uh, black holes, And, uh, the search for life, both, uh, biological, primitive life, but also, uh, technological, uh, civilizations out there.

[Twinkling, textured sonar sounds]

When I walk out and look at the night sky, I see the stars. And I think of them, uh, as lights, uh, in passenger cabins on a giant spaceship. And I often wonder if there are passengers next to those lights. The one thing I learned over the decades of practicing astronomy and looking at the sky and thinking about it is a sense of modesty. You know, we are so small relative to the universe, we live for such a short time relative to the age of the universe, so we are really witnessing a tiny bit of cosmic history.

And to me, the most fundamental question that will have a huge impact on society is, who else lives in our neighborhood? Either lives right now or lived in the past? Can we find relics that will tell us that?

[Ambient music fades out]

[Dense sounds of bugs at night]

JENNIFER FRICK-RUPPERT I'm Jennifer Frick-Ruppert and I am a professor of biology and environmental science at Brevard College.

What we have up here in the Southern Appalachians, as we had these two really unusual species, these wonderful fireflies, and one of them is called the “blue ghost.”

[Ambient, mysterious music with soft shimmer]

They’re called blue ghost fireflies because people think they look ghostly. Um a lot of folks around here call ‘em “blue fairies,” and I will swear to you, it makes me think of a leprechaun

[Footsteps in woods]

or something in the forest that's carrying a little candle and walking through the forest and you see it go behind a leaf or behind a tree, and then it comes out on the other side.

[Delicate wings flapping]

The blue ghosts don't flash, they just glow. They're glowing because they're mating. That's what they're doing, is they're signaling to each other to say, “Hey, I'm here.” But they like that period right after the sun goes down, it gets dark, and before the moon comes up. That's their favorite time.

[Music softly crescendos and fades out, quiet sounds of bugs at night holds]

DAVID GREENE You get used to working when it's dark outside so much that the light almost seems like an intrusion.

[Uplifting, building but gentle instrumental]

I am David Greene. And for many years I was a voice on NPR hosting a show called Morning Edition...

[Lo-fi beat drops, moves into a plodding beat, as if walking, mixed with soft bird titters]

...which starts very early in the morning, which means I went to work very, very late at night. The moments that would stand out would be interactions with people that were just so much more poignant and meaningful and memorable because it was the middle of the night.

[Far-away echoes of voices]

You know, there’s a grocery store here in L.A.

[Melodic grocery store checkout sounds]

And if I would go there during the day, it would just feel very, you know, commonplace. But you know, like I’d go there in the middle of the night and the, you know, the same cashier would often be working. And it was this sense of camaraderie. You know, we'd have like, what felt like deeper conversation. Like he got to know me a little bit. I was like how long have you been doing this shift and he’s been doing it for a while and he likes it because it’s emptier. And you know like, I remember him.

Once or twice a month, if I had time and it wasn't going to be a really busy morning, I would actually drive down to the beach.

[Music begins to fade out]

And I would have coffee and like, look out over the Pacific.

[Sound of car door opening, music stops, and sound of waves gradually start to grow]

And that's when the sky was truly gorgeous. And I don't know, like when you're lonely in the middle of the night, going to work, you know, just looking out at the horizon in the dark just gives you this sense of space, um... it feels, like, less lonely.

[Sounds of birds and waves gently lapping against the shore, fades out]

MATEO At night, in my room and it's dark, all the light I get is from my fan and from my clock.

[Alarm clock beeping]

And… I don't like it.

[Low, ominous piano chords lurking]

I'm Mateo, and I'm turning 11 on Monday.

Well I mostly fear, like, something's gonna walk through my door.

[Scary, scratchy instrumental]

‘Cause like, since it's dark, I like, I’m looking at my door I’m like, “Oh, gosh. Get in - I want to get into my nook and I'm scared.”

[Video game startup sound]

Since I like to play video games, a lot of those video games have like situations that are kind of scary.

[Low, far-away monster sounds, mixed with occasional higher piano chords]

Some of the characters just look weird and dead, so that it kind of feels like, “Oh, my gosh. Oh, no. No, no, no. No, they are not going to come into my room.” It's going to a very dark place in my mind, with all like the bad stuff I learned, the like, the horrid stuff — decapitation, slavery, poverty.

[Far-away sounds of crowds and horses]

And then it just like, it goes shopping.

[Sound of chopping up food]

And then brings it back to the house, fries it up.

[Food frying sounds]

The aroma goes into my brain, and then I think about that stuff.

[Bubbling sounds]

That's what I imagine my brain is doing.

[Ominous music fades out]

Either I think positive things is what my mom said to do, but that doesn't — doesn't always work. So what I do, I think of, like…

[Upbeat, bubbly, video game-style music]

...shows that I watch like Clone Wars. I think, “Oh. There are millions of millions of troopers...

[Troops marching]

...surrounding my house. There’s an artillery cannon on top of my house.

[Video game ‘pew, pew!’ sounds]

If anything remotely comes close to my room, I will destroy it.

[Silly explosion sound]

And if it finds me, I will protect myself… Or at least I'll try.” So, that's what I like to think.

[Upbeat, bubbly, video game-style music continues, fades, and crossfades with crickets]

ROXANE GAY I'm not a morning person, I think the morning is evil. I'm a night owl, I always have been, I think I always will be.

[Sounds of crickets at night grows and holds]

My name is Roxane Gay and I'm a writer.

[Happy, upbeat instrumental with quick notes reminiscent of stars in the sky]

I love the night sky. I love, love, love it. I have spent most of my life in the Midwest and so, when I was living there, it was very easy to see, like, all of the stars and they were just sparkling and it’s just stunning. It’s stunning and it’s one of my favorite things.

I love the nighttime. It's when I get most of my writing done. And, you know, when I'm doing the work, everything else has sort of quieted. And so there are fewer distractions in general, like my wife is asleep. And so I just find that it's easier to take risks when I feel like, “Okay, there's no one around.” And of course, I do think there's also something to the allure of the writer toiling late into the night.

[Music shifts, upbeat instrumental fades out and crossfades into warm ambient notes]

I don't even feel like I can write anything good until the sun goes down, and so I can do daytime writing, but when the sun goes down, that's when I get really excited. And I think, “Mmm, it might be coming tonight.”

[Soft crescendo of warm string chord, fades out]

[Distant wind sounds, giving the feeling of a flat, expansive landscape]

JO FALLS My name is Jo Falls and I am the retired former director of education at Tohono Chul here in Tucson, Arizona.

[Sparse, sweet plucking guitar notes]

Tohono Chul is a 49-acre desert preserve in Northwest Tucson. Out here in Tucson, people will plant what they refer to as moon gardens. Basically, it's a garden that the flowers open at night.

[Guitar notes increase in tempo, as if watching a flower open in a video]

And in general, those flowers will tend to be, um, white, which of course therefore makes them look like the moon. Particularly our night-blooming cereus, otherwise known as the “Queen of the Night.”

Once the flowers start to bloom, they will not open until the sun goes down. The flower itself will take probably about four hours to fully open and the petals will slowly unfurl.

[Soft rustling, as if a piece of paper is unfurling]

The flower will be in full bloom by, say, 10 o'clock at night, and we will get upwards of 2,000 people coming out to see these flowers in the space of six hours.

[Music stops on one note, and fades out completely, crossfades with wind]

By the time the sun is coming up, those flowers are closing and they're done for the year. That's it.

[Wind fades out]

[Single chime holds]

BESS KALB My name is Bess Kalb, and I am an author and TV comedy writer, and I live in Los Angeles.

[Quiet, upbeat electronic instrumental begins to slowly build]

The night makes me nervous and, uh, jumpy. I also live in a city that is, is covered in smog and was raised in a, in New York City, which, uh, blocked out the night sky. So, you know, I only see stars if I'm miserable and in the wilderness.

[Lo-fi, playful electronic beat drops]

My goddamn child loves the night sky. His first word was moon. And then, because like you can say anything to your baby, I, I, I told him (and this just, like, sort of like occurred to me in the moment, but I have to follow through with it) I was like, “That's where you're from.”

Um, and so, that that's just sort of like something for him to unpack later. Unfortunately, I've created a monster. He loved “Twinkle, Twinkle.”

[Chimes twinkling]

“Twinkle, Twinkle” was the first time he clapped his hands. Um, so of course I kept doing it because I got a great reaction from the crowd.

I realized, though, out of a window in our house, you can see this amazing, majestic view of the 5 freeway. Um, and at night it looks, it looks like, you know, the Milky Way.

[Sounds of traffic fades up, playful music fades out]

And so I — one of his first, one of his first sort of, like, cosmic realizations...

[Music fades all the way out]

…was he looked out the window in our living room and he went, “‘Tars, mama, ‘tars!”

[Sound of traffic on a freeway zooming past; after a moment music begins again]

And I didn't have the heart to be like, “No, it's just, like, a tangle of carbon emissions.”

[Music continues with sounds of traffic and car horns mixed in melodically; fades out]

[Sounds of a group of far-away voices talking, like a family gathered together]

MECCA WOODS I have always had a fascination with the stars, with the planets, uh, I was a big science nerd when, when I was a kid.

[Chimes shimmer, and continue, sparsely, mixed with meditative, ambient music]

My name is Mecca Woods and I'm an astrologer and author.

When I’m looking at someone’s birth chart for the first time, um, I see it as something sacred. Because it is intimate. Our birth chart is basically a cosmic map to who we are based on the time that we were born, the day, the month, the year, down to like the minute and the location. it equates to a planetary alignment that was in place at the time of our birth. And so based on that planetary alignment, it can tell us all kinds of things about us from, like our, our gifts and our talents and like, you know, what we're here to do in this life to, um, things that we might need to be a little bit more watchful of.

But when I think about the birth chart, I definitely see it as being kind of like a piece of the sky that we kind of all carry within us.

[Meditation ambient music continues, and fades out completely]

ANGELA NARCISO TORRES I feel like I've always liked the nighttime more than daytime. I think there's two kinds of people: night people and daytime people, and I definitely feel I'm a night person.

My name is Angela Narciso Torres and I write poetry.

[Very low, warm ambient tone]

As a child, we lived in a suburb of Manila called Green Hills, and nighttime became associated with some of my happiest childhood memories.

[Echos of kids playing, as if on a playground, mixed with echos of adult voices]

So it felt very lively in our household at night. Eventually you know my dad would go to sleep, my older brother would go to sleep. But the other brother, the one I'm closest to, he would stay up with me and we would just keep, you know, talking and working. And then at some point we'd get hungry and he'd say, “Let's go to the kitchen, make a sandwich.”

[Hot oil sizzling]

And he made the best hot sausage and cheese, triple decker sandwiches and we would walk out into the front yard…

[Sounds of kitchen fade out and crossfade into crickets at night, as if opening the door]

...where we would lie under the stars and talk and eat our sandwiches. Most of the time it was just the two of us. And that's why it was so special. It was like we owned the night.

[Ambient, expansive, space-like instrumental]

We owned the entire street, and the air, and the sounds — everything about it. It was pitch dark, except for a few street lamps. So going out at night, you really got to experience what real blackness looked like, a black night sky with so many stars. In fact, I seem to remember that the stars actually had color. Like some of them were pink, some were yellow, some were blue.

[Music grows in sweetness]

And I don't know if that's just my imagination, but that's what I recall. I just felt like night time was the time for magical things to happen.

[Arpeggio of notes shimmer, and resonant, clear ringing chords swell then fade out]

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HALEY This story was brought to you by Pop-Up Magazine Productions. Written and produced by me, Haley Howle, along with Joy Shan, Alyssa Edes, Ariel Mejia, and Elise Craig. Our editors are Derek Fagerstrom and Doug McGray. Our music and sound design is by Alex Overington. Our Creative Director is Leo Jung, Rebecca Chew is our art director, and Jackie Bates is our Photography Director. Lauren Smith is our Director of Operations. And we had production help from Al Schatz and Andy Spillman. Thanks so much for listening and don’t forget to check out our visual Field Guide at popupmagazine.com.