Creative Commons Licensed from Flikr: Photo by Bill Morrow

[caption id="attachment_259" align="alignleft" width="727"]Tucson lights pollute the sky. (Photo by Jason Davis)[/caption]The moon was only a quarter full in the wee hours of January 17, 1994, when a magnitude-6.7 earthquake struck Los Angeles, Calif. With electricity out in large swaths across America’s second-most populous city, thousands of disoriented residents stumbled into pitch-black streets to assess the damage.

High above Hollywood, the Griffith Observatory received scores of phone calls. Why were there so many stars? What was that shimmering grey cloud stretching out from the horizon? Did the strange sky cause the quake?

In the midst of tragedy, Angelenos were treated to a sight normally unseen from a bright city: the Milky Way. It takes a dark sky to see the band of starlight emanating from billions of stars near the center of our own galaxy, a view that has gradually disappeared under the glare of electrically-lit progress.

In Arizona, where space sciences are worth an estimated $250 million annually, bright skies are a serious threat to astronomical research. Cities like Tucson have adopted lighting ordinances to protect the industry, but as urban sprawl increases, bad lighting affects more than stargazing scientists. Energy is wasted. Wildlife is threatened. Human health is impacted.

TODOS SANTOS CUCHUMATÁN, GUATEMALA – There’s a new road to Todos Santos.

It used to be an uncomfortable daytrip from the departmental capital of Huehuetenango to this one-street town, tucked between mountains in northwestern Guatemala. The highway is mostly paved now, and those 17 miles of switchbacks climbing 10,000 feet only take an hour or two.

[caption id="attachment_253" align="alignright" width="3888"]Todos Santos sits in the moutains of northwestern Guatemala. (Photo by: Brenna Goth)[/caption]Those mountains protected Todos Santos and kept it nearly impermeable to the outside influences that caused other Mayan groups to lose their language and customs dating back to Spanish colonization. Separated by those 17 miles, Todos Santos was once a world away.

Today, Todos Santos is looking more like the rest of the world.

On November 2, high above Nogales, Sonora at the Colinas del Buen Pastor cemetery, Taide Elena placed two lit candles on the grave of her grandson, 16-year-old José Antonio Elena Rodríguez. “Era mi niño,” she said over and over again through tears. He was my boy. He was my boy. Colinas del Buen Pastor was…