
Now, if you’re anything like me — a person who has spent the better part of a life peering upward with wonder at the glittering scatter of the night sky — this seemed a bit like installing a mute button on Beethoven’s Ninth. I mean, remove the stars? What next — paint over the Mona Lisa’s smile?
I confess I was sceptical. I’ve always preferred my astrophotography to tell the truth or as close to it as light bouncing through space and lenses allow. There’s a certain honesty in the messy, crowded firmament — the riot of starlight that humbles and delights.

But then something strange and beautiful happened. As my monitor slowly revealed the processed image, I gasped.
Sans stars, the nebula came into sharp focus. Festoons of gas, swirled in vivid detail. Dark lanes of dust, previously obscured by the brightness of foreground stars, now had room to breathe. Shapes emerged — tendrils, knots, and shockwaves — revealing galactic stories written over millennia. The colours, too, appeared more painterly. It was, I must admit, breathtaking.
So now I’m torn. Are these newfangled tools a gift, helping us see more clearly? Or are they a distraction, pulling us away from the stars that inspired us in the first place? Maybe both. Maybe art and science needn’t always be purist pursuits.
What do you think? Should we honour the heavens as they are, stars and all — or embrace the subtle art of digital enhancement to reveal new facets of the cosmos? As always, I welcome your thoughts, clear skies permitting.