My son is really into space lately. He’s becoming the real Sheldon Cooper, as much of a cliché as that might sound. It started innocently enough, with a book from the 1980’s that we picked up from the library entitled “Exploring the Night Sky”. With rapt attention, he listened for a full 45 minutes as I read aloud the different astral phenomena that would be encountered at various light-distances away from earth. The next thing I know, he’s drawn his very own Hertzprung-Russell diagram (just for fun, of course), which is a mapping of stars’ brightness to their temperature for various classifications of stars. I had no clue what it was and have no idea if it is accurate, but if I know my 7-year old, it’s at least close.
So I have learned over the past few weeks what the differences are between red giants and blue supergiants. We delighted in the video showing the size comparison between them all, which of course easily hits home the notion that we are insignificant in the vast morass of the universe. At the same time, I sit in quiet awe of the stars that I live with. The glowing hypergiant who stuns me every day in spite of what we once thought was solely a “disability”. And his little brother who knows no labels and is trying his hardest to be as exceptional in the same ways, as yet unaware of his own, unique star power.