Unfettered access to the cosmos is an integral part of the landscape in Terlingua and across the Big Bend region of West Texas. It has fostered a community of dark sky defenders, who regularly ward off threats like too-bright store signs and intrusive car headlights.
Now, they’re facing something far greater: the construction of President Trump’s border wall, which residents across the Big Bend fear will bring bright lighting along land that is currently untouched.
Lighting has already been installed along stretches of the border in Arizona and farther east in Texas. “That technology is there, and it is literally a flip of a switch away,” said Billy Bartko, the director of Terlingua’s Far Flung Outdoor Center, “which is what we’re all afraid of.”
For residents along the border, it’s about more than just seeing the stars. The natural darkness symbolizes a lack of development, a rural way of life.
According to David Keller, an archaeologist and Big Bend historian, dark-sky maintenance protects the natural country of the place. “That’s why I’m here, and that’s why most people who live here are here,” he said. “It’s a national treasure. It’s too important to lose.”
The preservation of the Big Bend’s dark skies results from laws enacted as far back as 1975, originally to support astronomy at the region’s McDonald Observatory. In 2012, Big Bend National Park was formally certified as the region’s first dark sky site, followed by a state park and a wildlife area.
Today, those places live inside the largest dark sky reserve on Earth, established in 2022 and spanning more than nine million acres across the U.S.-Mexico border.
“What that timeline shows you is how long dark sky preservation and conservation has been in the minds of the people managing resources here,” said Amber Harrison, who lives in Terlingua and is a leader of the region’s dark sky protections. Any lighting that comes with the wall, she added, could cause the region to lose its dark sky status.
If widespread enough, the illumination could affect science observations at McDonald, according to Stephen Hummel, who coordinates the observatory’s dark sky outreach. But others are more concerned about what it will do to the character of the land.
“Most of us aren’t worried about if we’re going to be able to haul out our telescopes and see Jupiter tonight,” said Mr. Keller, a leader of a local coalition called No Big Bend Wall. “It’s an umbrella for other things.”
The loss could also disrupt a budding economic avenue. Stargazing was the second-most reported activity in the region, according to a tourism survey conducted in 2022.
Illumination from the wall could abruptly end those business ventures. “If they light this thing up, it’ll kill the tourism dollar,” Mr. Bartko said. Referring to the industrial appearance of the wall, he added, “Who goes to prison for vacation?”
Apprehension about the wall in Big Bend surfaced earlier this year. Shifting information about what is being built where has caused more unease from residents, who say the region’s harsh terrain makes a physical barrier unnecessary.
In a statement to The New York Times, a spokesperson for U.S. Customs and Border Protection said that the wall would include “a mix of lighting based on location and operational needs” and that not all parts would be illuminated. They added that lighting would be avoided in remote areas in favor of “other operationally superior methods,” like infrared illuminators.
The latest version of a map on the C.B.P. website shows roughly 165 miles of wall planned for construction along the Big Bend border, adjacent to several small towns and up to the edge of Big Bend Ranch State Park. According to the map, detection technology and patrol roads will be used in lieu of a wall along the border closest to Terlingua and next to the state and national parks.
But in an area that is dark, flat and open, light can carry for miles. On a clear night, Terlinguans can already spot the artificial glow from Presidio, about 50 miles away, on the western horizon. Preparation for wall construction near Presidio began in June, and locals have already complained about lighting that is out of compliance with dark sky practices.
Dark sky advocates also worry about temporary worker housing, road upgrades and nearby surveillance stations. “It’s not just the lighting associated with the wall, it’s the lighting associated with all the auxiliary things that are going to be coming with it,” Ms. Harrison said. “The impacts are potentially immediate.”
On an evening in April, the sun dipped low in the vast sky over Terlingua. A black dog with a blue Christmas light around her neck (to be seen at night, the owner explained) sauntered toward a saloon called the Starlight Theatre.
Valerie Stanley, the sister who owns the ice cream truck, moved from Houston to Terlingua in 2020. “Being able to look up and see the Milky Way, it just kind of shifted my life,” she said. “Now I’m living a different life with all this beauty that I never really knew was here.”
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