The taste

In the world of travel photography, the ultimate goal is not just to document a place but to capture its very soul. This was the challenge facing contributing photographer Mark Parren Taylor on his assignment in Seoul, South Korea. Tasked with exploring the city’s rich cultural inheritance, his journey led him to the sprawling and magnificent Gyeongbokgung Palace. More than a static monument, the palace is a living museum, and his mission was to encapsulate this duality. His iconic shot—a vibrant tableau of traditional costumes against the palace’s stoic architecture—is a masterclass in blending the past with the present, proving that a successful photograph is often a product of meticulous planning, strategic improvisation, and a keen eye for the quiet, compelling details that tell a much larger story.

Nestled on the sunlit northern shores of island-speckled Lake Maggiore, the Ascona-Locarno region brings a surprising taste of the Mediterranean to the heart of the Swiss Alps. This unique blend of landscapes, where palm trees stand against a hazy backdrop of snow-capped peaks, is matched by a food scene that is as diverse as it is delicious. From rich braised meats to earthy risottos, alpine cheeses to local Merlot wines, the cuisine of Ascona-Locarno is a direct reflection of its surroundings. By embracing the seasonality of its larder, one can embark on a culinary journey that reveals the true soul of the region, offering a distinct and memorable flavor for every time of year.

In a move that has been hailed as a significant sign of change, the Roman Catholic Church has canonized its first millennial saint: a young Italian teenager named Carlo Acutis. Known posthumously as “God’s influencer” and the “patron saint of the internet,” Acutis, who died of leukemia in 2006, lived a life that, on the surface, seems a world away from the ancient martyrs and biblical figures of the past. He was a modern tech whiz who used his passion for computers to build a website cataloging Eucharistic miracles. His canonization is not only an official confirmation of his entry into heaven but also a strategic decision by a centuries-old institution to connect with a younger, digital-native generation and remain relevant in a rapidly changing world.

On the night of September 7, the moon will embark on a celestial ballet with Earth, slipping into our planet’s shadow and transforming from a familiar silver orb into a magnificent coppery red. This total lunar eclipse, often dubbed a “blood moon,” is not just a beautiful sky show; it is a profound display of orbital mechanics and atmospheric physics. With a totality phase lasting an impressive 82 minutes, it will be one of the longest and most widely seen lunar eclipses of the decade. For nearly six billion people across the Eastern Hemisphere, this astronomical event offers a rare opportunity to witness a stunning spectacle that has captivated humanity for millennia and continues to hold a deep allure for stargazers and scientists alike.

For decades, humanity’s search for extraterrestrial life has been guided by a single principle: follow the warmth of a star. The traditional “habitable zone” is defined by the narrow band where a planet’s surface is neither too hot nor too cold, allowing for liquid water and a source of energy for life via photosynthesis. But a groundbreaking new study is challenging this conventional wisdom, suggesting that a far more widespread and abundant energy source could be available to life across the galaxy: high-energy radiation from dying stars. This radical theory expands the potential for life to exist in the cold, dark void of interstellar space or on worlds far from the warmth of a sun, opening up an entirely new frontier in the quest to find life beyond Earth.

In the vast, inky blackness between stars, a rare visitor is making its way through our solar system. Known as 3I/ATLAS, this interstellar comet, only the third of its kind ever discovered, is proving to be a true enigma, a spectacular show that has surprised scientists with its bizarre composition and unexpected behavior. It’s an icy voyager from another star, a potential time capsule from the galaxy’s ancient past that is offering a unique opportunity to study a piece of a distant solar system. This “cosmic ghost” is a reminder that even in a well-studied cosmic neighborhood, the universe is still full of surprises, and the most compelling mysteries are often the ones that arrive unannounced.

For decades, humanity’s search for extraterrestrial life has been guided by a single principle: follow the warmth of a star. The traditional “habitable zone” is defined by the narrow band where a planet’s surface is neither too hot nor too cold, allowing for liquid water and a source of energy for life via photosynthesis. But a groundbreaking new study is challenging this conventional wisdom, suggesting that a far more widespread and abundant energy source could be available to life across the galaxy: high-energy radiation from dying stars. This radical theory expands the potential for life to exist in the cold, dark void of interstellar space or on worlds far from the warmth of a sun, opening up an entirely new frontier in the quest to find life beyond Earth.

When you look at the night sky, it’s easy to assume that space is a boundless, endless expanse. Yet, the physics of our universe tell a different, far more contained story. Our cosmos began in a single, infinitesimal point and is now confined by a cosmic event horizon, a boundary beyond which we can never peer. These two features—a singularity and a cosmic horizon—are also the very hallmarks of a black hole. It’s a mind-bending parallel that has led some cosmologists to pose a truly radical question: could our entire universe have been born in a black hole? This is more than a fleeting philosophical fancy; it is a serious, albeit speculative, idea that challenges our most basic understanding of cosmic origins.

In the vast, inky blackness of low Earth orbit, an antennaed aluminum ball silently circles our planet, a ghost of the Cold War’s beginning. Known as Vanguard 1, this defunct satellite is, in one view, nothing more than a glorified piece of space junk—a “grapefruit,” as Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev once mockingly called it. Yet, to a growing coalition of engineers and historians, it is an invaluable artifact of the early space age, a “precious object” ripe for retrieval. A long-shot plan to bring this and other pioneering satellites home is sparking a profound debate, forcing us to ask: What is space junk, and what is space treasure? This conversation challenges our notions of preservation, raises complex questions of ownership, and highlights the urgent need to define a new kind of heritage in an increasingly crowded orbital environment.

From the vast, inky blackness of space to the tangled brush on a remote island, two photographers have redefined what it means to capture the world. NASA astronaut Don Pettit and National Geographic photographer Babak Tafreshi, bound by a shared love for the cosmos, embarked on a groundbreaking project to photograph the same scenes from two vastly different perspectives. This isn’t just a simple exercise in composition; it’s an ambitious endeavor that bridges a chasm of 250 miles and explores the very nature of perspective itself. The resulting diptychs are a celestial scrapbook of our planet, a powerful visual dialogue that forces us to feel both grounded and utterly weightless, simultaneously highlighting the precious fragility of our home and the infinite wonder of our place within the universe.