1. Use an app.
If you’ve brought your phone, I don’t mind. Open Night Sky or Stellarium and hold it above me — I’ll happily share the view. You’ll see the constellations appear right where they are, hovering over my head.

2. Let your eyes adjust.
Give it a moment. Sit with me a while, away from the glare of the streetlights. After ten minutes or so, you’ll notice the stars multiplying — as if the sky’s taken a deep breath and decided to show off.

3. Check the Moon phase.
When the Moon is full, she’s glorious but bossy — washing out the dimmer lights around her. Come back near a new Moon and I’ll show you more: the faint dust of the Milky Way, the shy clusters hiding in the dark.

4. Use a red torch or phone filter.
If you must use light, make it red. White light startles the night; red lets your eyes stay tuned in to the dark. It’s like whispering instead of shouting.

5. Look for patterns, not single stars.
The sky is full of stories — heroes, animals, hunters, lovers. Once you find one pattern, others gather round it, waiting to be recognised. I’ve watched them for years; they never tire of being found again.

6. Take your time.
There’s no hurry up here. Settle back against my wood, listen for the owls and the slow hush of the Wye, and let the night unfold at its own pace.

7. Bring binoculars if you have them.
Even a small pair will do. Through them you’ll see the Moon’s craters, Jupiter’s tiny moons, and sometimes a smudge of light that’s another galaxy altogether. It makes you realise how small — and how marvellous — we are.

8. Keep coming back.
Every night writes a different story on the same page. Clouds drift, seasons turn, moods shift. Sit with me often, and you’ll never see the same sky twice.