To see stars
If it had been left up to me humanity would never have gotten out of our caves. There's no way I would have noticed the patterns in the stars or discerned some behaved differently and were in fact planets or what any of this meant.
If I went back in time there's no concern I'd mess with the timeline and get the jump on Galileo. I'd just be like "Yeah, I dunno." But don't you come from a time when an object from Earth has been sent 25 billion kilometres? When 800,000 galaxies have been mapped? With gravitational wave detection and quantum mechanics and the Large Hadron Collider and dark matter and spectroscopy? How does it work? "Magic."
But every day I go out to look for them. Say hello to each new one.
Even when it's not cloudy there's so much light pollution, of various kinds. Still, it helps concentrate the learning when there's only a handful of constellations and their major stars visible. Much better at my mother-in-law's: a small town on the coast, garden straight into the countryside. It's an extra bonus to getting away from the city - whenever I go on holiday I'm plotting to get out in the night. Binoculars are underrated stargazing equipment.
I've got a star/space-themed playlist: It's the stars. From the Brian Eno / John Cale song Spinning Away. Which is how I like to serenade them sometimes. The playlist is more songs about stars, space, and science. Not songs to sing to the stars. That feels like a whole other category.
One November I wrote a story about astrophysicists. I had no business writing a story about astrophysicists. I can barely spell astrophysicists. I love that story an unreasonable amount but I will never do anything with it. I should have written it about history professors.
I should learn how to use my telescope better. I want to learn the map of the moon. I need to go to a Dark Sky reserve soon, to remember there is so much up there.