Pareidoliaphobia

Astronomers said that Venus and Saturn aligning with the moon on Friday would give the illusion of a face in the night sky. But then why did I just see it blink?

We all look for patterns in the random and the mundane. "That cloud looks kind of like a dog." "That spot on the cat's face looks like a heart." "I saw Jesus in my burrito bowl."

Sometimes, yeah, you can see it too. Sometimes, you just chuckle and comment on what a good imagination they have. Or you maybe just smile and nod and find a polite excuse to walk away.

But I know different now. This isn't just the human brain looking for connections in things for no reason. This isn't just an attempt by the human psyche to impose order on a chaotic universe. This isn't just imagination having fun.

This is a defense mechanism.

It started when there was that "triple conjunction" in the night sky. Venus and Saturn aligning just so with a crescent moon to make a smiling face. They were talking about it for like a week on all the news feeds, as a curiosity for people to look out for. And like a lot of people, I was outside to get a picture of it on my phone and to enjoy the fleeting moment of astronomy's wonder.

But I saw it blink. I saw the smile widen.

Nobody else on my block saw anything like it. They all just told me I was seeing things, that I was the one that blinked, "Planets can't blink, buddy." And for a little while, I believed them. Just.

It was later that night, as I woke up around 4 AM by the call of nature, I caught a glimpse of the face again out the window, just over my backyard neighbor's roof. I smiled a little to myself to see it again, and had just crawled back into bed and started to get comfortable when the realization hit me.

The triple conjunction had been in the eastern sky. But my bedroom faces west.

I'm typing this now from my spare room downstairs, the one that's been empty since I moved in. Empty is good. Empty is safe. I tried the basement, but I started seeing faces in the shadows of all the junk down there, in the shapes of the bric-a-brac stored down there, and eyes started winking and mouths started showing teeth.

Our tendency to see shapes and patterns in the randomness of the world... this is not random, this is not our imagination.

There are things out there we can't see. Until we can.

I probably won't make it until morning. And I don't think I'm any safer in daylight.

But the next time someone tells you they saw a face in the clouds? Be careful. Because that face might see you too.