Riddles About Space

I’m giant and red with a storm for an eye. Spot me in the sky and your telescope will sigh. What am I?

I’m a star’s nursery wrapped in dust and light. Look closely and new suns ignite. What am I?

I’m the astronaut’s home above the clouds, orbiting Earth with humming crowds. What am I?

I’m a comet’s tail streaking night skies, granting wishes before I vanish. What am I?

I’m the planet with rings of ice and rock, swirling bands around my clock. What am I?

I’m the force that keeps feet on the ground and planets in their lanes. What am I?

I’m the closest star that kisses your skin with morning light. What am I?

I wax and wane yet never disappear. Tides and wolves keep me near. What am I?

I’m the rover that roams rusty deserts, sending selfies from afar. What am I?

I’m the invisible path satellites follow to beam shows into your living room. What am I?

I’m a dwarf planet beyond Neptune, named for a Roman god of the underworld. What am I?

I’m the telescope that floated above Earth for decades, gifting galaxies to our eyes. What am I?

I’m the countdown signal that shakes the ground before rockets rise. What am I?

I’m the shield around our planet that blocks harmful rays. What am I?

I’m the invisible speed limit of the universe—nothing outruns me. What am I?