10. Ursa Major (The Plough)

There’s a shape up there you think you know — the Plough, or the Big Dipper if you’ve borrowed the name from across the Atlantic. Most people stop at that familiar saucepan, but it’s really just the brightest part of a much bigger creature. Follow the stars outwards and you’ll see the rest of Ursa Major — the Great Bear — stretching across the night like a quiet guardian of the northern sky.

The Plough itself is only the Bear’s hindquarters: the back, the hips, and the long sweep of its tail. That tail gives people pause. Bears, of course, don’t have long tails, but myths don’t seem to worry about practical details. The old Greek stories say that Zeus swung the bear into the heavens by its tail, stretching it out as he did. Others say it lengthened through time simply because the sky needed a way to hold the creature in place. Either way, there it is — unmistakable once you’ve traced the line.

From my seat here, it’s one of the most reliable constellations you can find. It never sets below the horizon in these latitudes, just slowly wheels around Polaris, season after season. If you follow the two stars at the “front” of the Plough’s bowl — Merak and Dubhe — they point straight to the North Star. Travellers used that line for centuries, long before road signs and phone screens, and many still do when the night is clear.

But I find the Bear most comforting when the evenings are deep and the village has fallen quiet. While the animals, plants and moths carved into my back tell the story of the night close to the ground, Ursa Major keeps watch over it all. A reminder that even as the world shifts through darkness and dawn, some shapes stay steady — anchored high above, patient and bright, guiding anyone who cares to look up and follow.