TUNGSTEN VALLEY - Ah, November 1978. J–, in my high school Senior Honors English class, asked me if she could help grind the mirror for a telescope I was building, down in the school’s grotto-like chemistry lab. I was enthusiastic. “Wow, I didn’t know you liked astronomy. Dress grungy!” (Yeah, I really was that naïve.)

Late the next Saturday morning, we were down there with just a couple of lights on (as there’s not much to see when you’re grinding glass). KIMN 950 was playing “Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue” and “Moonlight Feels Right.” She wasn’t grungy.

Atop a water-filled barrel, the chunky Pyrex slab rested upside-down on a matched slice of deep-green glass, with a splash of water and dust between them.

J– bent slightly over the mirror, hesitantly, her waist against the barrel’s rim. She cradled the mirror, tentatively, between her palms. I stood behind her, my chest against her back, my arms along her arms, my larger, warmer hands clasping her smaller, cooler hands.

“You move the mirror like a “W”, with a little pressure.” I guided her hands. “That’s it. Down, up, down, up, left to right. Now we reverse. And keep going.” Her hands underneath mine, I eased her balance and rhythm for a long while. Silently, nearly imperceptibly, she moved her body with the staticky AM music.

At precisely noon, she paused.

I stepped back. In the room’s dimness, I was absorbed by her brown hair, her gently-curved jeans.

Would she turn? Would she lift her eyes to mine? Those cool, pericynthionic eyes, the dark gaze of which I wanted to hold, but dared not to even dream that I could?

The DJ was spinning, “I Can See for Miles and Miles.”

She faced me. Our eyes met. We kissed, ever so gently.

I leaned in for another kiss, but she gripped my arm. Long curls fell down her face.

“We’ll kiss again, and see what unfolds, when the clock’s hands next align,” she whispered with sibylline slyness.

I’d go on, but our editor is waving from the control booth. Sara says, Frank, page-space is tight and this story is going nowhere. She adds, get on to something astronomical, please.

OK, so, beautiful, vulpine J– left us with sweet memories and a nice problem: How long after noon will it be, when the clock’s hands next align and we might kiss again?

It’s the same problem as how often planets come into alignment. The problem is pertinent this month, because we are moving into alignment (called opposition) with Jupiter on December 5. When that happens, we are as close together as we can get (like me and J–, although we’d hardly have called it opposition).

Try your hand at figuring a mathematical formula. Use the diagram for help. We’ll look at the answer next month.

Hey, I’ve at least taken your mind off the election for a few minutes.

Star of Bethlehem: What was the Star? Who were the Magi? Were there camels? Join this correspondent’s talk, “What Was the Star of Bethlehem” at the Gilpin County Public Library at 6:30 p.m. on December 3. Register with the library.

In November Skies:

The sun begins the month in Libra, entering Scorpius on the 23rd. At mid-month, days and nights are 9.5 and 14.5 hours long, respectively.

Moon dates are: New November 1; First Quarter November 9; Full (Beaver Moon, a Supermoon this month) November 15; Last Quarter November 22; Second New Moon November 30.

Standard Time begins on November 3; we gain time as we move our clocks backward one hour at 2 a.m.

November Meteors: The North Taurid shower (parent comet Encke) peaks November 11-12. The Leonid shower (parent comet Tempel-Tuttle), one of the year’s best, peaks November 18.

Best Sky Viewing Nights (Minimal Moon): November 1-8 and 23-30.

Sunset (Mid-Month): The Milky Way glistens, southwest to northeast. Fomalhaut rises with the Pleiades and Capella. The Andromeda galaxy is high in the northeast, presenting a nice binocular view. Deneb is directly overhead, with Vega a bit westward and Altair southward.

Midnight (Mid-Month): Gemini twins Castor (above) and Pollux (below) are high in the east near Mars. Below them and to the right is Procyon. Orion and Sirius are in the southeast. The Great Nebula that births stars in Orion’s sword is naked-eye visible; it’s a terrific view in binoculars. Andromeda is high in the northwest. Brilliant Capella is nearly overhead; Cassiopeia is high in the northwest.

Sunrise (Mid-Month): Spica is low in the southeast; Arcturus is high in the east; the Big Dipper is overhead. Capella is high in the northwest as Orion sets.

Mercury, in Scorpius, is low in the southwest at sunset with best visibility on the 24th.

Venus, in Sagittarius, is the Evening Star, low in the southwest at sunset.

Mars, in Cancer, rises at 9:30 p.m. near Castor and Pollux. It’s high in the south by sunrise.

Jupiter, in Taurus, rises at 6 p.m., is high in the southeast at midnight and westward at sunrise. Opposition (see above) on December 5; November and December will be the best months to see it and its moons for the next 13 months.

Saturn, in Aquarius, is in the south at sunset, setting at midnight.

Notable Space Missions: NASA’s Europa Clipper is headed to Jupiter! The chunkiest interplanetary probe ever flown will arrive at Europa in 2030. Beneath an icy crust, the moon hides a salt-water ocean that might sustain life. Repeated flybys will survey the ice, the ocean, and the stuff that squirts out of icy cracks. If there are life-sustaining conditions, this probe will find them.

Frank Sanders, a spectrum scientist at the U.S. Department of Commerce in Boulder, takes astronomy-related inquiries at backyardastronomy1@gmail.com.