Childhood texts pictured blue-green, but the best-laid photographs of men show it’s white. Thought hard as a marble, it’s all hydrogen and helium, almost. That size balloon does not drift. It’s ignorant of things like January by the seaside. It rains diamonds. We spin like a top around the Sun, it rolls like a circus tumbler. It is the quirk that reminds us the universe is quirky, for all its wheels within wheels. Moons Shakespearean, its rings perpendicular, unlike Saturn’s parallels, and due to an old war wound it rotates on its side, and backwards. It is a majestic thing!