The sun shines still on the very least of creation

On clear August evenings in Otago, after the Sun has slipped below the horizon and the day’s colour is draining from the sky, you might notice something unusual in the west.

At first, it seems like the last light of day refusing to fade, but it climbs higher than sunset’s glow, forming a broad, soft triangle that leans along the path of the zodiac. Wait 20 minutes after sunset, and if you are far from city lights, it becomes harder to ignore.

This is the zodiacal light - sunlight scattered by tiny grains of dust orbiting the Sun inside Earth’s orbit. The dust is the debris of comets and asteroids, spread thinly through the plane of the solar system. Each grain is only millimetres across or smaller, yet together they form a faint, luminous veil that can be seen from Earth when the geometry is correct.

Here in the southern hemisphere, August through October is prime time to see it in the evening. The tilt of Earth’s axis means the ecliptic - the path the Sun takes through the stars - is steep against the western horizon after sunset, lifting the dust-glow up into darker skies.

You won’t see the zodiacal light from the middle of Dunedin, or anywhere streetlamps are free to scatter their glare into your eyes. You need a low, dark western horizon - the Otago Peninsula, the Maniototo, or the Catlins all offer good viewing. Pick a moonless evening, head out about 45 minutes after sunset, and let your eyes adapt.

What you will see is not a showy spectacle. There are no moving parts, no flashes, no curtains of colour. The zodiacal light is subtle, steady, and timeless. It was there long before we were watching, and it will be there long after.

Stand quietly, and you might find its persistence comforting - a whisper from the inner solar system, that our small, bright Sun still leaves traces of its presence far out in the dark.

Bring a friend. Bring a thermos. Let the western sky tell you its quiet story.