As we spend more and more time staring down at our mobile phones, it's easy to forget there are vast galaxies above us.
Big corporates are sending thousands of satellites into space for the sake of better communication on Earth.
While this may sound exciting, each launch leaves a trail of satellites, rocket parts and space junk floating over our heads.
What you can see here is a capture of the components bigger than 10 centimetres now in low-Earth orbit.
In the coming decade, we will see more satellites launched than in all of history.
As rocket launches become cheaper, upwards of 100,000 satellites could orbit Earth, forever changing our dark, starry skies.
For millennia humans have gazed up at the wonder of the night sky, but what we can see is rapidly changing because of our quest to be connected.
When Tim Shallcross was a kid, the stars were his TV.
He'd sleep in his swag on a hill at the remote Bullara Station and stare at The Emu made up of the Milky Way that floated above his head in the dark sky.
Now 52, he's noticed the night sky above him is changing.
"I remember when as a teenager you'd start seeing the first satellites and it'd be, 'Ooh, there's a satellite', but now it's just commonplace," he says.
"You wouldn't want to have more satellites than stars; that would just be pretty horrible, wouldn't it?"
Tim's station outside of Exmouth in Western Australia is in one of the darkest places on the planet, but he's not the only one noticing changes.
Worlds away in the hallways of the United Nations, 102 countries are busy debating the future of what is called the Outer Space Treaty.
The treaty was established in 1967, almost a decade after the then Soviet Union launched the first human-made object into space, Sputnik 1.
It was a moment that changed the world.
Since then, commercial interest in space has grown astronomically.
Lasers measure the distance from Earth to satellites with millimetre-level precision.
ABC: Chris Lewis
"In 66 years, we've sent up about 11,000 objects in space," says international law expert Steven Freeland.
"In the next 10 years, we will see somewhere between 100,000 and 500,000 more objects, so you are making an increasingly hazardous area even more hazardous by having so many more objects in space.
"The fact remains that space is becoming ever more crowded, particularly in areas that we know is low-Earth orbit — somewhere between 500 kilometres to about 1,000 kilometres or so above the Earth.
"That's where many of these satellites will go."
Blissfully unaware
Most of us on Earth fail to notice the satellites whizzing above our heads that are visible in the lower orbit.
For people in the Australian bush like Tim, the Milky Way accompanies them every night, but for a third of the world's population it is hidden from view.
The World Atlas of Artificial Night Sky Brightness also found as much as 99 per cent of Europeans and the population of the United States live under light-polluted skies.
It's a great shame, according to Astrotourism WA chief executive Carol Redford.
"People really are losing touch with the darkness," she says.
"There are some people in the world now who don't actually even experience darkness anymore.
"They're in a city like Beijing or Tokyo, London, all those big cities, it's never dark.
"It's always light — during the day of course with the Sun, but then during the night with all the artificial light, so they're not experiencing darkness.
"And they're definitely not seeing those beautiful stars that we have in abundance in WA."
A recent tourism survey found one-third of Australians are interested in travels that involve connecting with the dark sky, be it photography, dinners under the stars or stargazing.
And that is something areas like the Gascoyne region in WA are keen to capitalise on.
Hamelin Station Reserve sits at the doorway to the Shark Bay World Heritage area, famous for its snow-white beaches and incredible marine life.
No longer a working station, it is now run by Bush Heritage Australia.
Reserve manager Sarah Gilleland says while before tourists came to the station to see the unusual stromatolites and bird life, now they're arriving to see the stars.
"You do see people rock up with their big telescopes and their massive cameras and they'll set up at night time and take photos, and they do comment on how little light pollution there is," she says.
"You lay in your swag at night and you just look at the stars and it's very humbling. It's beautiful.
"And I think at least a lot of Australians really get that. I think we seem to be a country that spends a lot of time outside camping and having a look and connecting with the night sky.
"And that way I think the night sky is still alive ... it's just changed."
When day became night
In a rare set of celestial events, parts of northern WA will be the prime viewing spot for five total solar eclipses over the next 15 years.
This daisy chain of eclipses won't happen again until 2066.
The first was seen by thousands on a tiny finger of land near Exmouth on April 20.
At 11:29am, beneath a blue, cloudless sky, day became night.
In the middle of the day, stars and planets peaked out against the dark heavens.
People cried, birds screeched, and it became cold as Earth hummed with uncertainty as all sunlight was quenched for 62 seconds.
Then as the life-giving Sun came out from the shadow of the Moon, everyone clapped, realising they had witnessed something truly out of this world.
Eclipse chasers, or umbraphiles as they are known, came from as far as Chile and Japan to the Ningaloo coast to witness the event.
Among them was CSIRO deputy director space and astronomy Dr Mark Cheung.
"Solar eclipses are events that people are willing to cross oceans and continents for," he says.
"I have searched and read much literature and poetry that tried to capture the experience of a total solar eclipse, and I have not found one that completely captures the experience."
But as astrophysicist Robin Cook explains, there may come a time when they can no longer be viewed.
"It's sort of a quirk of where we are in space, but also in time, because the Moon itself is moving further and further away from us, at a rate of three centimetres a year ...
"Certainly in 10,000, 20,000 years from now, we may never have solar eclipses again.
"Historically if you look back at records of people's accounts of solar eclipses, it was a bad omen and there was this tone of impending doom."
Dr Cook says whereas some cultures panic when the Moon covers the Sun, First Nations people are attuned to it because they have observed the celestial phenomenon and pass those stories down.
"Indigenous Australians knew about solar eclipses and they spoke about them and they kept them on record in their stories, so they were fully aware that these things happen," he says.
"Given these things happen on average 400 years apart, it's kind of an incredible thing that that information can make its way through so many generations and still survive."
Yingkarda Wajarri artist Sonya Edney gets her inspiration for her paintings from the stars, but this was her first experience of a total solar eclipse.
"It was unreal because we were sitting on the edge of the water and it was a feeling like a tingling feeling all over your body.
"It feels like very spiritual, like the spirit was moving."
Long before the Babylonians and the Greeks studied the stars, the First Nations people of Australia had Dreaming stories that explained the tides, eclipses and changing positions of rising stars and planets throughout the year.
They were the world's first astronomers.
"It's good to look up at the stars," Sonya says.
"The feeling of just being out, out under the stars, connecting with everything."
Night becomes light
It was that shared love of the sky above them that brought together stargazers, professional and amateur astronomers and astro-scientists to Exmouth.
But scientists like Mark Cheung say they are deeply concerned at the rapid rate at which satellites are being launched for commercial gain.
"At the moment there are a few thousand satellites that are currently in orbit around the Earth," he says.
"But because of advances in rocketry, in the recent decade or so the cost of launching has dramatically decreased, which also means that there is an incentive to launch even more satellites."
Robin Cook says the increased satellite activity is a hindrance to his work, as they appear like midges in the frame when he takes photos of deep space.
"You can imagine that if you've got this big telescope that's looking at the very furthest parts of the universe, and you have these things flying in your face, essentially like the flies that are currently in my face," he says, swatting his hand.
"That's what these satellites are; they had big lights, reflecting the Sun's light into our eyes, and they often will encroach on our images, create a glow, and often create trails that pass across our observations."
Dr Cheung says there is also the threat of a collision between satellites as the lower orbit gets busier.
"Any error, any collision between satellites will cause what is called Kessler syndrome, which is that you have a runaway of space debris that will endanger other satellites," he says.
"You don't want to have the situation where people are just sending satellites up there without any coordination, without any consideration for others or for the public good.
"Because in the end, what will happen is that we pollute space for the benefit of no-one."
The launching and operation of satellites is subject to international space law; the applicable principles are set out in the 1967 Outer Space Treaty.
If an Australian company wants to launch, either here or overseas, it has to first obtain a licence or permit from the Australian Space Agency in accordance with the Commonwealth's obligations as a party to the treaty.
Lawyer Steven Freeland has spent most of this year in Vienna at the United Nations debating, among other issues, the question of the quiet, dark sky.
"It's difficult to come up very quickly with answers because the technology is rapidly changing," he says.
"But those companies that have those large constellations of small satellites, they say, 'Our service will be wonderful for humanity because we will, for example, be able eventually to provide internet services to that 30 or 40 per cent of the planet that doesn't have regular access to internet'.
"That's an incredibly laudable goal, but like everything, what you do over there has consequences over here.
"The more of these satellites, of course, has all these other knock-on effects in terms of collision possibilities."
The greater good
For people living in the bush in Australia, satellite communication has been a game-changer.
Elon Musk's Starlink has made life and business at Bullara Station much easier for Tim and Edwina Shallcross and their three late-teen daughters.
"We couldn't believe it when it arrived in the box," Edwina says.
"We just thought we'll pop it up on the water tank and it took off.
"It's been a game-changer because for all rural communities, communication is such a big problem and an issue for them.
"All our business, all our booking systems, communications, all our mobile phones ...
"Also on the station, there's all the water-monitoring sites, so we rely on our internet service quite a lot to function."
Similarly, conservationists like Sarah Gilleland at Hamelin Station rely heavily on the improved internet service provided by satellites to do their work.
"If you're on your phone, you're not paying attention to this natural world around you, so it's tricky," she says.
"It's really important for me connecting with my colleagues and for doing my job well.
"At the same time, if I look up into the night sky, I want to see stars, and I want them to not be interfered with by all these unusual lights from satellites."
Steven Freeland says most Australians rely on space technology at least 20 to 30 times a day without even thinking about it.
"We all want that next widget that can give us something that we don't have at the moment, and a lot of that will be dependent on space technology," he says.
"So in a sense, sometimes those two desires conflict with each other."
Edwina Shallcross is also aware that the benefit of space technology is a double-edged sword.
Every night she can see how the dark sky is changing, but she is also keenly aware of the positives satellite communications bring to her life.
"It's going to be a bit of a battlefield up there isn't it, in terms of getting the balance right," she says.
"Obviously we do want our communication, we want it instantaneous, but then also we want to have these unpolluted skies as well.
"But I hope that sense prevails and that we can find that balance and we get to still enjoy this unique landscape that we have in Australia that you can't get anywhere else in the world."
And that is exactly what those debating the Outer Space Treaty's future are grappling with.
Representing Australia in those negotiations, Steven Freeland echoes Edwina's words.
He says it's all about getting the balance right.
"Our Australian Indigenous people, when they talk about generational equity, they look seven generations ahead, and we must do the same.
"We must make sure that every generation ahead of us has that ability to enjoy space as well."
Similarly, Carol Redford worries for the generations to come.
She believes connecting to the dark, night sky is essential to our sense of wellbeing.
"Children are growing up without that connection to the night sky," she says.
"That connection to the night sky brings perspective to my life.
"I'll just step outside in an evening, even for five minutes, and just look up.
"And what it does is remind me that I am this tiny little being, standing on a tiny little rock, orbiting a very small star.
"It makes me think whatever problems you've got, it's alright tomorrow, it doesn't matter in comparison to our vast universe … there's no worries here on Earth."
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Credits
- Reporting: Sinead Mangan
- Photography: Chris Lewis, Andrew Seabourne and Michael Goh
- Video: Chris Lewis, Andrew Seabourne, Robert Koenig-Luck, LeoLabs and Motion Array
- Producer: Daniel Franklin
