I saunter across the velvety, spongy
slopes. A young, bespectacled Shawn of SP Poly, sporting a red T-shirt and a pair of denims, welcomes me.
("Sean is the Scottish way of spelling
my name. Shawn is how I write my name," he would tell me later.)
Shawn expounds on the philosophy of
the organizers, how he got initiated into this hobby pretty early in his life. "My mom was into astronomy a little bit, you
know."
An impromptu presentation ensues,
on the various types of telescopes (reflective, refractive, etc). He recounts his group's activities and achievements, his
most memorable experiences as an amateur astronomer. "The nebulae were fantastic. The sight of a star in the throes of death
is a spectacle to behold."
Ask any astronomy-related question,
and pat comes a well thought-out answer from the affable, patient, courteous Shawn.
Be it the number of telescope manufacturers
in the world, the various models in the market, their prices; the diameter of Jupiter, the number of moons orbiting Neptune,
the speed at which the lenses of a telescope must move in order to neutralize the earth's rotation. Or whatever. Trust
Shawn to sate your curiosity.
Shawn is quick-thinking and imaginative
too. Sensing that the crowd may feel disappointed by the non-show, thanks to weather, he punches a few digits on his mobile.
And presto, a few people materialize at the top-storey balcony of the tall, tower-like pagoda, beyond the far end of
the Gardens, perhaps one kilometre away. They wave a variety of colorful flashlights.
His group's head, a guy in -- what
else -- a red T-shirt, announces it's now okay to take the plastic covers off the telescopes. It is unlikely to rain, you
know. Thank God for small mercies.
