Ever since I was a young boy, I’ve been captivated by the night sky. I would step outside, stare upward in awe, and wonder what mysteries the cosmos held. For Christmas of 1985, my dad gave me my first telescope—a Tasco 4” reflector from a department store. It wasn’t high-end by any means, and it was tough for a 13-year-old to use, but it gave me my first real views of the planets and the Moon. I’ll never forget the night I first found Saturn. Seeing its rings—real and shimmering—through that little scope sealed my fascination for life.

That telescope, humble as it was, cracked open the door to a universe far beyond my own. It sparked something deeper than curiosity—a sense that maybe, just maybe, there was a grander purpose behind our existence. From there, my love of science and astronomy only grew.

Like so many kids of that era, I dreamed of becoming an astronaut or astronomer. Unlike my dreams, reality had other plans. The job market and economics nudged me in a different direction, and I pursued a career in software development. It turned out to be a great decision professionally, but my heart never let go of the stars. I promised myself that even if I couldn’t work in astronomy, I could still chase it as a serious passion—and fund it as a hobbyist.

In 2000, I bought my first “real” telescope: an 8” Meade LX200. Compared to my old Tasco, it was a technological marvel. For the first time, I saw galaxies, globular clusters, and nebulae with clarity I never thought possible. I dipped my toes into astrophotography and was instantly hooked. Unfortunately, living under the light-polluted skies of suburban Atlanta made serious observing a challenge. Every session meant hauling gear into the yard or driving to a dark site—and that logistical friction often got in the way.

Then in 2012, I had the chance to move to Blue Ridge, Georgia—a small town 100 miles north of Atlanta. The skies were significantly darker, and I had more land to work with. By 2013, I had built Blue Ridge Observatory in my backyard. Equipped with a 14” Celestron EdgeHD on a CGE Pro mount and a permanent pier, it eliminated every excuse. I could walk outside, roll off the observatory roof, and be observing in ten minutes. It was a dream realized.

In 2018, that dream expanded again. I moved to Pecos, New Mexico—home to some of the darkest and clearest skies in the country—and constructed a new observatory: Mesa Vista Observatory. Most of my original gear came with me, but the skies here made everything sharper, deeper, and more awe-inspiring. Observing from the high desert beneath the Milky Way feels like being on another planet.

I built this website to share that journey—not just as a personal chronicle, but as a resource for fellow amateur astronomers. If you’ve ever looked up and wondered what’s out there, you’re in the right place.

I invite you to explore the site, enjoy the imagery, and perhaps rekindle your own sense of cosmic wonder.

Clear skies,

Brian