In March of last year I posted here about a BBC series called Wonders of the Solar System – how expertly made it was and how inspiring I found its content to be on a Sunday evening. The follow-up show, Wonders of the Universe started a four episode run on BBC2 last Sunday, and was just as informative and awe-inspiring as its predecessor: as an exercise in perspectival adjustment it can’t be beaten as a way to finish your weekend.

This week there’s also a reason to carry a little of infinity’s beauty into your Monday: it’s the fourteenth day of the third month and hence 3.14: Pi Day!

I’m no mathematician, but sometimes I find it’s possible to appreciate the beauty of higher maths just as I can take something from Rothko or Munch whilst the rudiments of painting remain outside of my grasp. I’ve always been awed by the power of maths both to interpret the known and to explore the unknown; to look at the moon on a clear evening and think that our species travelled to it guided by the steady hand of brilliant mathematics is both humbling and empowering.

Maths has a diverse and complex language all its own, and I’ve heard it said on a number of occasions by those who speak that language, that the true practice of mathematics bears little or no resemblance to that which we’re all taught in school. Last year I listened to a Fresh Air interview with musician and doctoral-level mathematician Daniel Snaith in which he compared the two disciplines. Not as you might expect: that he approached the making of music with an understanding of maths’ rigidity, but rather that higher-level maths was, to him, similar to the ebbs and flows of music.

That sort of understanding lies beyond most of us, but I find that there are occasions when it’s possible for laymen to glimpse some of maths’ beautiful order and its power: Pi is one such instance. Now computed to over a trillion decimal places we are told that this number, which lies at the centre of our understanding of circles, will carry on infinitely and never repeat. Phenomena like that–a number less than four that you could never comprehend the full extent of–is something to keep hold of. For me pi is like a kind of amulet, serving as a reminder that no matter how boring my Monday might turn out, there exist rich seams of wonder in the fabric of what comprises it.

So happy Pi Day one and all. Traditions include the baking and or eating of (preferably circular) pies with your choice of filling, so even if you can’t get behind the maths perhaps you can indulge in that. You could also send a Pi Day e-card or buy a Pi t-shirt at places like piday.org

N.B. If you want to be pedantic about European date conventions and say that only the US would write today’s date as 3.14, then make sure you mark your calendar for Pi Approximation Day on 22/7 (22 ÷ 7 = 3.14…)