It allows me to plan my shots very much in advance, pre-visualising a scene before capturing it in reality. If I find an interesting composition whilst out on a stroll one day, my mind will instantly begin to work out what wonders of the night sky I can one day compose into the scene. A classic example of this is when stumbling across a nice south facing composition - I know that I can return one day and photograph the galactic core of the Milky Way there (weather and light pollution permitting of course!).
The rush of capturing something I saw in my head weeks, months, sometimes years in advance to actually pressing the shutter button is highly addictive. And with each failed attempt and extra day waited, the reward only becomes greater. If I don’t get that Milky Way shot during the month-long window that year, I can go back the same time next year. Not only does the longer wait induce a bigger reward, but, I’ll be returning with hopefully a new skill set and a more mature eye.
The predictability of the night sky makes it easy to line things up, I suppose it's the most long-range form of composition there is. And as much as I love aligning things and capturing images that depict our place in the universe, I have recently sought to capture the interaction between astronomical events and the land on which we live.
Take this image, for example, moonlit curtains illuminating the front of Sgwd Ddwli in the Brecon Beacons. In this instance, it wasn’t about photographing the celestial body, the Moon, but more the interaction of the Moon’s light with the landscape we are so familiar with.