TOWARDS MIDDAY the blue sky bruised to lilac. It darkened further to a violent violet, and then the snow began. The thick flakes fell all afternoon, but with night the clouds dispersed and the stars shouldered themselves above the village. The ground froze. It was the coldest night of the year, and our wooden-framed house creaked and groaned under the grip of the icy night. Waking suddenly sometime after midnight, I went to the window. The stars filled the world. I stood there in awe. These days our village street lamps are turned off at 11 p.m., turning even the humblest of bungalows into a superb observatory. The stars always seem close enough to touch. Especially our most striking constellation, Ursa Major. Maybe that is why our stories about Ursa Major have always been so down to eart