When I lived in Winnipeg, I had to go a long way outside of town to avoid the light pollution, my backyard here in CB is dark and not too bad. Then there is starlink, the bane of astrophotographers. The answer is going to space with instruments, and we all get to peek on the internet, but it takes amateur astronomy and the beauty of the night sky away from the average person. Technology takes much of the mystery away too and with that goes much of the beauty, as we have less to wonder about and more to wonder at.
I had the privilege of living under dark skies for a coupla years before buildup in the valley nixed it.
Looking at the summer Galaxy through 10x binoculars on a good night, it was no longer the pale thing of suburban skies, but … alive, monstrous, terrible in its beauty. The impression was one of gazing on a snapshot of a storm somewhere beyond violent, on a timescale a thousand times beyond our moment of history.
I live under muddier skies now (in the desert, but too close to Cali) and that hair-raising impression is bleached out.
I also remember a moonless October night in which a palest ribbon of light connected the last setting lobe of the Zodiacal light to the broad faint patch of the gegenschein. And I could intermittently see M33 with the unaided eye.
I gotta designate a night soon to head northeast to Death Valley environs. I had a near-spiritual experience there 33 years ago.
The sky was so clear and pitch-black (and devoid city-glow clear down to the horizon) that the of only reason you know
of the horizon was that the stars in their thousands ended there.
The ones that were visible created a most remarkable illusion that they were just beyond arm’s reach. I’ve only experienced this that one time.