As the little girl gripped the silver box in her hand, pressing a row of black knobs, the dome above her sprung to life.

Her blonde hair whipping back and forth, Hannah Berne, 7 of Charleston, glanced up and down between the controls in her hand and the dome of the Eastern Observatory above as its eye slit peeled back, the loud whir of a motor filling the tiny space under the dome.

With a final metallic clank, the eye slit came to rest in silence, revealing a cloudy, starless sky.

Despite the cloudy sky, glowing orange from the city lights, Berne continued to crane her neck and peer into the darkness, hoping for a break in the clouds.

Berne was attending the first Observatory Open House of the Fall 2012 semester.

The Observatory Open House takes place 8 p.m. on the last Friday of every month during the school year and is coordinated between both the Astronomy and Physics clubs.

The Eastern Observatory is operated by the physics department and is located southwest of Campus Pond down a long gravel road. The location for the observatory was originally chosen because it is one of the darkest spots on campus, in the middle of a field away from houses and campus buildings that would cast out light and obscure observations.

Perched atop a small grey corrugated steel building is a white dome, which houses a 16-inch telescope.

Hannah Tanquary, president of the Astronomy Club, said the observatory can be used for many different student projects, as well as to satisfy students’ curiosity.

Computer software can even be used to control the movements of the telescope to track specific objects and gather data.

As Berne climbed down the wooden stairs from the dome, she passed a wall of photographs pinned to a corkboard and began to ask questions about the photographs.

The photographs were taken using the observatory’s telescope. The images of planets, stars and galaxies painted the wall a brilliant array of orange, blue and purple.

Stevie Momaly, vice president of the Physics Club, pointed to the photographs, answering the many questions that Berne asked, one after another after another.

“I hope she never stops asking questions,” Momaly said, grinning as Berne continued to explore the observatory.

Peering out from the door of the observatory, Tiandra Burns, secretary of the Astronomy Club, lamented the cloudy sky created by Hurricane Isaac as it crept northward.

“I wish we had more cool stuff to look at,” she said. “The hurricane kind of messed that up.”

Burns said she comes to every open house and even visits the observatory simply to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere and the stars.

The mysteries of space and the inability of humans to reach its vast expanse are the biggest reasons why Burns loves astronomy.

“Not knowing what is there and learning about things you can’t get to” are what attract her to keep coming back and learning more about space, Burns said. “You can’t touch it or get in a rocket to get to it.”

While club members, community members and students mingled outside, Astronomy Club adviser and Observatory director James Conwell set up a pair of binoculars on a tripod and aimed them east.

Conversations about NASA programs and astronomical phenomena blended with conversations about comics and “Rocky Horror Picture Show” as several students and community members filtered through the observatory.

However, conversations hushed as Conwell called out, announcing a break in the clouds to the east.

Berne came bounding from the observatory and gripped the binoculars as the clouds parted, revealing a blue moon, a rare occurrence when a second full moon rises within a single month.

Glowing orange, the blue moon competed with the lights of campus as it emerged above Taylor Hall.

“Oh my God! I can see it!” Berne yelled. “I’m shaking because I’ve never seen it this close!”

However, the moment was brief as the clouds overtook the moon again.

“I think it’s gone for good this time,” Tanquary said.

She was correct.

The blanket of Isaac’s clouds persisted through the night.

As Berne left the observatory, walking down the gravel road with her parents, her questions slowly faded in the distance as she kept gazing at the sky.

Tim Deters can be reached at 581-2812 or [email protected].