Has it really been a year already?
On 2nd of April, 2007, I started my column at Jacksonville.Com, "The First Coast Sky @ Night". I have covered a whole year's worth of astronomical tidbits, mostly the offerings that the cosmos was bringing to us on a weekly basis. It's been fun, a bit exhausting at times but something of which I'm extremely proud.
It's interesting to note that being a writer is where I started out. After seeing the first run of "Cosmos" back in late 1980, an interest in becoming a science writer began within me. When I began college in 1982, my initial major was journalism. Now, 26 years later, I've done pretty much that, albeit pro bono (wouldn't mind it as a full time job, though).
Of all the people who have passed in and out of my life, the one whom I think would have loved to have seen this was the late Dr. Sylvia Tether. Way back in 1987, during my second attempt at college, she pulled me aside and informed me that I'd make a much better writer than teacher (I had changed my major to education). She was my composition professor and rather impressed with my work. Sadly, she was killed by a drunk driver early in 1989.
At any rate, with all the foibles, bad edits and other little errors, it has been great fun. 2008 looks to be even more fun.
Jamie picked me up a copy of "11 Planets - A New View of the Solar System" by David Aguilar. As anyone (everyone) can tell, I've pretty much embraced the concept being touted here, and have decided that my old "Walk the Solar System" page has to be updated. Looking at doing a completely new page (more than likely at Google), using a Google Map API with the individual planets as markers. It's the scale I need to work on. Either way, should be fun.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Messier Madness
I've never cared for galaxies. Sad, as I live in one.
Seriously, aside from the little cluster of galaxies in Andromeda (M's 31, 32 and 110), I just haven't cared. For me, going after objects that lie far beyond our Milky Way is the stuff for far more professional astronomers than I. However, sooner or later, you find yourself in the position of having to locate them. Hence the Astronomical League's Messier Certification.
This certificate is given to those who have identified at least 70 Messier objects, record their findings and report this to the appropriate authorities (the League). It so happens that if you deduct the 40 galaxies on the list, you are left with 70 other objects. Sounds easy, right?
Not really. Some of these objects are still faint, more so than some of the galaxies. M1 (the Crab Nebula in Taurus), for instance, is less noticeable than M33 (in Triangulum). There are planetary nebulas that are difficult to pick out under even the best of conditions (M76) and faint nebula that disappear in even slightly light polluted skies (M43). Some of these galaxies turn out to be necessary to the certificate (the M31 group is the best example).
That said, I decided it was high time to get my Messier certificate and decided to nail as many of these even more distant objects during the Messier Marathon that NEFAS scheduled the weekend of the 8th and 9th of March. The clusters and most of the relatively nearby objects I've observed dozens of times before (pretty much all of the clusters on the list, in fact). I figured that it would be a cake walk. That evening, I showed up at the site with my 7 x 50mm binoculars, 4 1/2"/114mm Newtonian "Isaac", 80mm RFT refractor "Benjamin", my new 65mm ED RFT "Bruno" and my little 50mm refractor "Anne", plus eight eyepieces and plenty of hopes and gumption. I was also accompanied by my partner in life Jamie, who was there both for moral and material support.
Nature had other plans.
Late winters here in northeast Florida are fickle. Saturday the 8th was one of those fickle nights. It started out windy, but that died down not long after sunset. That was when the temperatures began to drop. NEFAS uses a pond (actually a forestry service water dip) located in the northern reaches of the Osceola Forest as its deep sky observing site. That there are mosquitoes is a given. On cold nights, a few of the larger variety can manage to get airborne and make numerous strikes, which they did for the first hour or two. After 10pm, though, the temperatures became the threat. The cold manifested itself initially with heavy dew than begun blanketing my equipment.
By midnight, I had only observed 28 objects (though it is probably 27, since I am not 100% certain that I managed a view of M74 at all), and it was now below freezing. A heavy coat of water was building up on all of my equipment, and the slightest breath caused the optics to be almost completely unusable. To further complicate the matter, every break I have ever had, and especially the adhesion that occupies the place where my gall bladder once dwelled, was throbbing. The next set of items, a group consisting primarily of galaxies, was almost at zenith, and needed to be a little further to the west due to the huge light dome that is Jacksonville. It was a good time for a nap.
When I came back out at 3am EDT (2am by my internal clock), it was worse. The frost had settled on all of my instruments now, and my adhesion hurt the worse. I decided to simply pack it in.
A few years ago, prior to the surgery that removed my gall bladder, I could have taken the other pains. But the feeling in my gut just below my ribcage was akin to being stabbed. Couple that with the frustration of not being able to see anything due to the frost... it was simply too much.
The long drive home was not as anticlimatic as I was expecting; I was actually happy. Given the conditions and my physical limitations, I did pretty good for a first attempt, even though I had seen most of those objects before. Before sinking deep into bed and a good morning's sleep, I was more determined than ever to try this again.
Next month. When it's warmer.
Seriously, aside from the little cluster of galaxies in Andromeda (M's 31, 32 and 110), I just haven't cared. For me, going after objects that lie far beyond our Milky Way is the stuff for far more professional astronomers than I. However, sooner or later, you find yourself in the position of having to locate them. Hence the Astronomical League's Messier Certification.
This certificate is given to those who have identified at least 70 Messier objects, record their findings and report this to the appropriate authorities (the League). It so happens that if you deduct the 40 galaxies on the list, you are left with 70 other objects. Sounds easy, right?
Not really. Some of these objects are still faint, more so than some of the galaxies. M1 (the Crab Nebula in Taurus), for instance, is less noticeable than M33 (in Triangulum). There are planetary nebulas that are difficult to pick out under even the best of conditions (M76) and faint nebula that disappear in even slightly light polluted skies (M43). Some of these galaxies turn out to be necessary to the certificate (the M31 group is the best example).
That said, I decided it was high time to get my Messier certificate and decided to nail as many of these even more distant objects during the Messier Marathon that NEFAS scheduled the weekend of the 8th and 9th of March. The clusters and most of the relatively nearby objects I've observed dozens of times before (pretty much all of the clusters on the list, in fact). I figured that it would be a cake walk. That evening, I showed up at the site with my 7 x 50mm binoculars, 4 1/2"/114mm Newtonian "Isaac", 80mm RFT refractor "Benjamin", my new 65mm ED RFT "Bruno" and my little 50mm refractor "Anne", plus eight eyepieces and plenty of hopes and gumption. I was also accompanied by my partner in life Jamie, who was there both for moral and material support.
Nature had other plans.
Late winters here in northeast Florida are fickle. Saturday the 8th was one of those fickle nights. It started out windy, but that died down not long after sunset. That was when the temperatures began to drop. NEFAS uses a pond (actually a forestry service water dip) located in the northern reaches of the Osceola Forest as its deep sky observing site. That there are mosquitoes is a given. On cold nights, a few of the larger variety can manage to get airborne and make numerous strikes, which they did for the first hour or two. After 10pm, though, the temperatures became the threat. The cold manifested itself initially with heavy dew than begun blanketing my equipment.
By midnight, I had only observed 28 objects (though it is probably 27, since I am not 100% certain that I managed a view of M74 at all), and it was now below freezing. A heavy coat of water was building up on all of my equipment, and the slightest breath caused the optics to be almost completely unusable. To further complicate the matter, every break I have ever had, and especially the adhesion that occupies the place where my gall bladder once dwelled, was throbbing. The next set of items, a group consisting primarily of galaxies, was almost at zenith, and needed to be a little further to the west due to the huge light dome that is Jacksonville. It was a good time for a nap.
When I came back out at 3am EDT (2am by my internal clock), it was worse. The frost had settled on all of my instruments now, and my adhesion hurt the worse. I decided to simply pack it in.
A few years ago, prior to the surgery that removed my gall bladder, I could have taken the other pains. But the feeling in my gut just below my ribcage was akin to being stabbed. Couple that with the frustration of not being able to see anything due to the frost... it was simply too much.
The long drive home was not as anticlimatic as I was expecting; I was actually happy. Given the conditions and my physical limitations, I did pretty good for a first attempt, even though I had seen most of those objects before. Before sinking deep into bed and a good morning's sleep, I was more determined than ever to try this again.
Next month. When it's warmer.
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Operation Moonpie Results
This is the culmination of Operation Moonpie... a simple image that shows the size variation of the Moon at perigee and apogee. It's not terribly dramatic, but for a one month period is still impressive.
I am considering doing an Operation Moonpie II, where I will actually go for images of the extreme perigee and apogee. That image ought to be interesting!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Moonpie - Success!
I have been sick; I just recovered (yeah, right...) from the flu, but today was still the day; the Moon was at apogee, and I had to image it.
So, a little after 6:00am this morning, I did.
Mission accomplished. More later.
Cough.
So, a little after 6:00am this morning, I did.
Mission accomplished. More later.
Cough.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
The Lunar Eclipse, 20th February 2008
I have a number of devices at my disposal for imaging in astronomy but none of them really dedicated, per se; they are mostly repurposed CCTV cameras (I've mentioned this in previous posts). However, this isn't an impediment; I managed to collect a few, mainly using the Samsung and, oddly, my old Sensortech monochrome, which suddenly decided to behave beautifully (turns out the iris was stuck; it suddenly freed itself. Imagine that).
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Of Lunar Eclipses & Critters
Last night I was outside getting images of the only total lunar eclipse of 2008 (I'll be writing more on that later, including pics). Not long after totality began, I felt a presence next to my left leg.
I live in a neighborhood with plenty of cats, and for the most part they are all friendly. For a moment, I thought that one of them, a little gray tabby from a few houses down, had come and decided to keep me company.
As I was prepared to say "hey there, little guy" and lean over to pet it, I discovered that it was not a felis silvestris catus but procyon iotor... a raccoon.
This raccoon we've named "RJ" (named for the one in "Over the Hedge") and he thinks he's a cat. He's not that old, probably a year and a half, and very tame. But he is still a raccoon, a wild animal.
Wild he may be, but he was just sitting there, little forearms hanging in front of him, looking up at me with a gaze that said "hey, dude! What's up? Got grub?"
I flinched. He ran, chattering. Halfway across the lawn, he stopped, turned and looked at me, and then sauntered off.
I could have shared my beer, but it was an Amber Bock. And I don't share that.
I live in a neighborhood with plenty of cats, and for the most part they are all friendly. For a moment, I thought that one of them, a little gray tabby from a few houses down, had come and decided to keep me company.
As I was prepared to say "hey there, little guy" and lean over to pet it, I discovered that it was not a felis silvestris catus but procyon iotor... a raccoon.
This raccoon we've named "RJ" (named for the one in "Over the Hedge") and he thinks he's a cat. He's not that old, probably a year and a half, and very tame. But he is still a raccoon, a wild animal.
Wild he may be, but he was just sitting there, little forearms hanging in front of him, looking up at me with a gaze that said "hey, dude! What's up? Got grub?"
I flinched. He ran, chattering. Halfway across the lawn, he stopped, turned and looked at me, and then sauntered off.
I could have shared my beer, but it was an Amber Bock. And I don't share that.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Moonpie Begins - 14th February 2008
So, tonight, I setup two telescopes and a total of three cameras to collect the first set of images for Operation Moonpie. The weather could not have been better; cool and clear. My old Macintosh 5260 "Sofia" was running beautifully.
The two scopes used were "Bruno" (my new, modified Burgess Back Packer ED65) and "Spindrift" (a classic 60mm design from Meade). Both the color and monochrome CMOS cameras and my old Sensortech CCTV with zoom lens were used; this exact same setup will be used in two weeks.
The images collected tonight will be processed tomorrow. The rest of the images will be captured on the 28th.
Here's to clear skies two weeks from hence.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Operation Moonpie
The genesis of this idea actually lies in an image I saw sometime back in the pages of Sky & Telescope magazine. Someone had taken two images of the Moon at perigee and apogee and placed them side by side, thus showing the size difference (slight though it may sometimes be). It was pretty interesting and something I have been wanting to do ever since. Thus the beginning of Operation Moonpie.
For this task, I have a number of cameras at my disposal. The most obvious choice was one of my CMOS cameras, but finding a telescope that was capable of capturing the whole disk of the Moon (as opposed to, say, a closeup) proved to be daunting, so I decided to enlist my ancient (relatively speaking) Sensortech B&W CCTV camera with zoom lens. This has been employed before in capturing video of lunar eclipses and constellation shots. The Moon isn't particularly big, covering around half the usable screen size, but it should be large enough at maximum zoom.
To capture the image, my trusty PowerMac 5260 "Sofia" is to be employed. As usual, I'll use my Vagabond Mobile Observatory 1 setup; a large, plastic portable workbench with wheels.
I was supposed to have grabbed my first image (Moon at apogee) this morning at 6:00am. However, nature proved to be unkind, covering the sky with a thick layer of clouds. I will have another chance soon; the Moon will be at perigee on the evening of the 14th February, 2008, Valentine's Day. So, young lovers, harken if you will that big, beautiful Moon, hanging up there in the firmament at a mere 230,041 miles (370,215 km) distance, appearing larger for this special night. Two weeks later, the apogee shot (251,308 miles / 404,441 km) on the 28th. Come on, nature... need clear skies!
Finally, what does the Moonpie stand for anyway?
Nothing. I just like Moonpies.
For this task, I have a number of cameras at my disposal. The most obvious choice was one of my CMOS cameras, but finding a telescope that was capable of capturing the whole disk of the Moon (as opposed to, say, a closeup) proved to be daunting, so I decided to enlist my ancient (relatively speaking) Sensortech B&W CCTV camera with zoom lens. This has been employed before in capturing video of lunar eclipses and constellation shots. The Moon isn't particularly big, covering around half the usable screen size, but it should be large enough at maximum zoom.
To capture the image, my trusty PowerMac 5260 "Sofia" is to be employed. As usual, I'll use my Vagabond Mobile Observatory 1 setup; a large, plastic portable workbench with wheels.
I was supposed to have grabbed my first image (Moon at apogee) this morning at 6:00am. However, nature proved to be unkind, covering the sky with a thick layer of clouds. I will have another chance soon; the Moon will be at perigee on the evening of the 14th February, 2008, Valentine's Day. So, young lovers, harken if you will that big, beautiful Moon, hanging up there in the firmament at a mere 230,041 miles (370,215 km) distance, appearing larger for this special night. Two weeks later, the apogee shot (251,308 miles / 404,441 km) on the 28th. Come on, nature... need clear skies!
Finally, what does the Moonpie stand for anyway?
Nothing. I just like Moonpies.
Monday, January 14, 2008
The Oops Factor
Nothing is more embarrassing to me then to make a glaring mistake. Thing is, I'm the one most likely to point it out to others. It's as if I were a high schooler who gets a zit just before the prom and makes a big deal about it; "Look at this! How can I possibly survive?!?", almost unaware that I am drawing more attention to it then if I just ignore.
Textual faux pas' are pretty common in this day and age if only because of our dependency on that marvelous invention known as spell check. Make no mistake, I prefer to write my articles in Simple Text or Text Edit (on Macintosh) or WordPad (on Windows). I want a clean interface when I write, for to me it's all about content and not appearance. On the Mac, spell check is built into OS X (except in the case of Simple Text), and they are hard to avoid. There is no spell check built into WordPad normally, however. Once I've finished writing, I usually reopen the article in Microsoft Word (2000 edition) and check for spelling.
What I am not doing, though, is proofreading my own material. I've gotten lazy, thanks to the miracle of technology.
You see, it's not the misspellings that trip me up. It's the words that occur whenever a single letter is omitted.
So, even though I went back and reread my article this time round, I still forgot to read the summary.
You'll notice I circled it.
Really need to slow down a bit. Interesting image, though, the galaxy saying, "Come here, give us hug..."
Textual faux pas' are pretty common in this day and age if only because of our dependency on that marvelous invention known as spell check. Make no mistake, I prefer to write my articles in Simple Text or Text Edit (on Macintosh) or WordPad (on Windows). I want a clean interface when I write, for to me it's all about content and not appearance. On the Mac, spell check is built into OS X (except in the case of Simple Text), and they are hard to avoid. There is no spell check built into WordPad normally, however. Once I've finished writing, I usually reopen the article in Microsoft Word (2000 edition) and check for spelling.
What I am not doing, though, is proofreading my own material. I've gotten lazy, thanks to the miracle of technology.
You see, it's not the misspellings that trip me up. It's the words that occur whenever a single letter is omitted.
So, even though I went back and reread my article this time round, I still forgot to read the summary.
You'll notice I circled it.Really need to slow down a bit. Interesting image, though, the galaxy saying, "Come here, give us hug..."
Sunday, November 04, 2007
The Moon Occults Regulus, 3rd November 2007
On the morning of the 3rd November, 2007, there was a challenging event that took place in the skies over the southern United States and part of the Americas; the Moon occulted the star Regulus in the constellation Leo. For many, this was not too much of an issue, since many points in the midwest and further were still in darkness. Here in Jacksonville, though, it would be occurring at sunrise.
Based upon the information I had on hand, this was going to be tough. I was pretty sure that it would be visible with binoculars and even just barely naked eye. But, I wanted to try and catch it on video. Based upon my experience with the VCR, though, I figured I'd see what sort of still images I could grab. For this, I used my Supercircuits CMOS camera fitted to my Meade 60mm (on an alt/az mount) telescope, "Spindrift".
I also opted to use my Samsung SCC-4201 for wide angle shots.
At 7:00am EDT, I had all of my equipment outside; the VMO-1 with my Power Macintosh 5260/100 "Sofia", "Spindrift" carrying the CMOS camera, and my Samsung, "Sammy". I grabbed my first few images between 7:10 and 7:12, switching between the two cameras.
Notice the bottom image on the left, taken with Sammy at 32 frames integration; you can actually see "Earthshine" lighting the Moon's shadowed section.
Even though it doesn't show, the sky was now medium blue. The contrast was making it appear darker in the cameras.
The first thirty minutes of any occultation are fairly uninteresting. I used this time to grab images and fine focus both instruments (for instance, the automatic focus feature on Sammy was turned off and had to be reset). At 7:31, it was time to begin recording the final series of images. Sammy obtained the following image as Spindrift was fine focused.
The sky was now brightening up significantly, but due to the CMOS camera's built in gamma correction (automatically adjusting for brightness and contrast), it still looks almost black. I started taking images with Spindrift and the CMOS camera alone. I collected almost 20, but these three pretty much summed it up, starting at 7:31, then 7:35 and finally 7:40...
Going, going, gone.
I could have waited the almost half hour to record the Moon's finishing its obscuring of Regulus, but instead decided to pack it in. It would probably have been too bright anyway.
Still, it was a wonderful way to test out my equipment and make the best of what I have. And for what I have, I am truly thankful.
I also opted to use my Samsung SCC-4201 for wide angle shots.
At 7:00am EDT, I had all of my equipment outside; the VMO-1 with my Power Macintosh 5260/100 "Sofia", "Spindrift" carrying the CMOS camera, and my Samsung, "Sammy". I grabbed my first few images between 7:10 and 7:12, switching between the two cameras.
Notice the bottom image on the left, taken with Sammy at 32 frames integration; you can actually see "Earthshine" lighting the Moon's shadowed section.
Even though it doesn't show, the sky was now medium blue. The contrast was making it appear darker in the cameras.
The first thirty minutes of any occultation are fairly uninteresting. I used this time to grab images and fine focus both instruments (for instance, the automatic focus feature on Sammy was turned off and had to be reset). At 7:31, it was time to begin recording the final series of images. Sammy obtained the following image as Spindrift was fine focused.
The sky was now brightening up significantly, but due to the CMOS camera's built in gamma correction (automatically adjusting for brightness and contrast), it still looks almost black. I started taking images with Spindrift and the CMOS camera alone. I collected almost 20, but these three pretty much summed it up, starting at 7:31, then 7:35 and finally 7:40...
Going, going, gone.I could have waited the almost half hour to record the Moon's finishing its obscuring of Regulus, but instead decided to pack it in. It would probably have been too bright anyway.
Still, it was a wonderful way to test out my equipment and make the best of what I have. And for what I have, I am truly thankful.
Grabbing The Comet
I do video astronomy. For that purpose, I have a number of nice little cameras, ranging from old black and white security cameras to purpose built cameras. There are three cameras I use consistently, however; an old Sensortech B&W with telescopic lens, a basic little Supercircuits color CMOS camera in a purpose built housing and a very nice Samsung SCC-4201. That latter camera has come into its own for this comet.
The clouds finally began to break up after almost a week of overcast, on the evening of the 30th of October. I wasted no time and wheeled my VMO-1 (that's the Vagabond's Mobile Observatory 1) outside with Breanna's TV/VCR unit. At around 9pm, I finally had a hole. Through that hole, I finally caught the comet.
Unfortunately, I chose to use a VCR. This produced a lot of noise, and during the processing phase, I lost color. But I did catch it. The above image, by the way, is a paltry 5x!
It became overcast again, and would persist until the night of the 1st of November. Again, I wheeled the VMO-1 outside, but this time with my Power Macintosh 5260/100 on board. This ex-Torrington School District machine is setup for AV work. I call it "Sofia", and say what you will for its performance, for this task it was superbly fit. Now, I could forego the VCR and send the video directly to the computer. The results were much better.
The comet's golden color was now discernible. While this camera is not perfect, it is certainly a step in the right direction. With the addition of the Macintosh 5260, it has become an inexpensive means to obtain video imagery I might not ever have the opportunity. It also proves to me that what is considered by many to be a useless machine has found utility.
The clouds finally began to break up after almost a week of overcast, on the evening of the 30th of October. I wasted no time and wheeled my VMO-1 (that's the Vagabond's Mobile Observatory 1) outside with Breanna's TV/VCR unit. At around 9pm, I finally had a hole. Through that hole, I finally caught the comet.
Unfortunately, I chose to use a VCR. This produced a lot of noise, and during the processing phase, I lost color. But I did catch it. The above image, by the way, is a paltry 5x!It became overcast again, and would persist until the night of the 1st of November. Again, I wheeled the VMO-1 outside, but this time with my Power Macintosh 5260/100 on board. This ex-Torrington School District machine is setup for AV work. I call it "Sofia", and say what you will for its performance, for this task it was superbly fit. Now, I could forego the VCR and send the video directly to the computer. The results were much better.
The comet's golden color was now discernible. While this camera is not perfect, it is certainly a step in the right direction. With the addition of the Macintosh 5260, it has become an inexpensive means to obtain video imagery I might not ever have the opportunity. It also proves to me that what is considered by many to be a useless machine has found utility.
The Macintosh 5260/100 and my cameras, 1 November 2007A Constellation, A Comet & A Missed Opportunity
So, there I am, Tuesday night, 23rd October 2007, preparing my souped up video camera to grab some images of Perseus. For the past couple of weeks, my column has run a series of articles regarding the Andromeda/Cassiopeia/Perseus myth. Since this week the series wraps up in Perseus, I wanted to grab some images of the more interesting objects within the constellation, namely the Perseus III OB association (one of my favorite objects).
The camera has had some work done lately. It now sports a better looking mount, made from corrugated plastic, some hardware and JB Weld, fixed snuggly beneath the main housing with very strong double sided tape. Not only has the greatly improved the sturdiness of the system, it also looks much better. I've also decided to employ my wheeled "Mobile Observatory 1", a combo toolbox/workbench with wheels. All was set for the night of the 23rd of October.
I was wheeling my equipment outside when the clouds began moving in. Perseus was still behind the trees; it was not quite 9:15. But I suspected that it would be high too late, that it would be obscured.
Indeed, I was to be proven correct.
As I was beginning to pull the extension cord outside, a sold line of overcast began to come up from the south, completely obscuring the sky for a large swath save for some sections above the east and west horizons. Adding insult to injury… it began to sprinkle.
Meanwhile, short period Comet 16P/Holmes was preparing to do something extraordinary amidst that very stellar association I intended to video.
It pains me so much to think I could have caught that flare real time. I understand how Charlie Brown must have felt whenever that football was yanked aside.
Ugh.
The camera has had some work done lately. It now sports a better looking mount, made from corrugated plastic, some hardware and JB Weld, fixed snuggly beneath the main housing with very strong double sided tape. Not only has the greatly improved the sturdiness of the system, it also looks much better. I've also decided to employ my wheeled "Mobile Observatory 1", a combo toolbox/workbench with wheels. All was set for the night of the 23rd of October.
I was wheeling my equipment outside when the clouds began moving in. Perseus was still behind the trees; it was not quite 9:15. But I suspected that it would be high too late, that it would be obscured.
Indeed, I was to be proven correct.
As I was beginning to pull the extension cord outside, a sold line of overcast began to come up from the south, completely obscuring the sky for a large swath save for some sections above the east and west horizons. Adding insult to injury… it began to sprinkle.
Meanwhile, short period Comet 16P/Holmes was preparing to do something extraordinary amidst that very stellar association I intended to video.
It pains me so much to think I could have caught that flare real time. I understand how Charlie Brown must have felt whenever that football was yanked aside.
Ugh.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
A Celebration; Four Centuries of Telescopes
It's raining outside as I write this. Northeast Florida is under a low pressure system that is producing a very nasty northeaster, with gales roaring in from off the Atlantic, rain coming sporadically. This is the second night of the "Great World Wide Star Count", a naked eye event that runs from the 1st to the 15th, and for the second night in a row, I'm stuck indoors as the stars have been hidden behind thick blankets of fast moving clouds. Today, though, is important not to naked eye astronomy but to a tool and the role it has come to play in this pursuit.
Today is the 2nd of October, 2007. Three hundred and ninety nine years ago, one Hans Lippershey announced that he had "invented" what would for a short time be known as a "Dutch perspective glass". He created this by placing two lenses, one larger with a long focal length, the other smaller and shorter in focal length, within a tube and thus magnifying objects some distance away.
The legend goes that two children in his workshop actually discovered this, though chances are good that others before him also created similar instruments. But no matter; he was the first to try and patent it (the Dutch authorities didn't allow the patent, though they did have him produce a number of such instruments for them).
Within a few months, Galileo Galilei, who had heard about these wonderful instruments, set about creating one for himself, improving the design and naming his version a "telescope". He would be the first to aim one towards the heavens in late 1609, and forever changed science and our understanding of the world around us.
Next year is the beginning of the 400th anniversary of this wonderful tool. The International Astronomical Union has designated 2009 the International Year of Astronomy. But in my mind, the time period needs to start on the 2nd of October, 2008 and run through the 15th of January 2010, when Galileo realized that four attendant stars near Jupiter were actually moons.
Fifteen months seems like a fair way to celebrate 400 years of the telescope.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Our Moon & Four More
Time to resume Vagabonding, and to start things off, I've decided to do something of a little comparison. On Friday night, the 21st of September, the Moon will be slightly past first quarter and sitting high enough in the sky to make viewing good. Normally, for most astronomers, the Moon is a nuisance; the amount of light it reflects (notice; I said reflects and not emits) is considerable, and only the brightest objects can be seen with relative ease. The Moon, though, is quite worthy of observation, and I, for one, always try to observe it whenever possible, regardless of its phase.
Most of the detail we will see in this session will be along the terminator, where the shadows are still long (I've written about this in my "First Coast Sky @ Night" column). Those shadows add the necessary contrast for bringing out detail normally hidden from view. As you move away from the terminator and towards the limb (the edge of the sphere itself), you'll notice that the shadows diminish in length and detail is slowly erased due to an ever increasing angle of sunlight. Still, there is much that can be seen.
But Luna, our Moon, is only one of five we should be able to see that night. To find the others, we need to locate the planet Jupiter.
ADDENDUM - 21 Sept.
A tropical depression formed in the Gulf of Mexico from a series of storms that crossed the state of Florida today. The weather deteriorated and ended up clouding up the night, so the little event was called off. Sigh. Oh well, there is next week...
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Largest Planetarium Dome - Infinite In All Directions
I read today in "Sky & Telescope" about the Shoemaker Open-Sky Planetarium in Chico, California. What's so special about this facility? Its outdoors; there is no dome. For all intents and purposes, it is a traditional planetarium minus a projector and a dome on which to project.
Who'd have thought?
For the past few years, I've been toying with the idea of either making a portable planetarium or building a small dome in some equally small community. Well, this little idea pretty much blew me away. It seems that all this time I was missing the point; who needs a portable planetarium when you have the whole sky, and let's face it, it follows you wherever you go. Think about it; all you really need is a laser pointer. The visitors can bring their own lawn chairs or other contrivances (inflatable mattresses to basically look straight up would be nice).
What is needed to make this idea really work is other media.
At the Shoemaker, they have computer guided telescopes with cameras attached. Each of the visitors is given a small handheld viewer to see the objects selected.
Nice. Complicated but nice.
What makes a proper planetarium work is the other media present. The sky by itself is great, but if you're talking about, say, M57, the Ring Nebula in Lyra, you need to go a step further, otherwise you're pointing towards what appears to be a blank spot between two stars. Either a canned image or a live CCD image would be just spectacular. The trick is how to present it. Perhaps an LCD projector and screen located in the center of the gathering, one that can be completely blackened with a simple shutter mechanism.
This has potential. Must dwell on this some more.
Who'd have thought?
For the past few years, I've been toying with the idea of either making a portable planetarium or building a small dome in some equally small community. Well, this little idea pretty much blew me away. It seems that all this time I was missing the point; who needs a portable planetarium when you have the whole sky, and let's face it, it follows you wherever you go. Think about it; all you really need is a laser pointer. The visitors can bring their own lawn chairs or other contrivances (inflatable mattresses to basically look straight up would be nice).
What is needed to make this idea really work is other media.
At the Shoemaker, they have computer guided telescopes with cameras attached. Each of the visitors is given a small handheld viewer to see the objects selected.
Nice. Complicated but nice.
What makes a proper planetarium work is the other media present. The sky by itself is great, but if you're talking about, say, M57, the Ring Nebula in Lyra, you need to go a step further, otherwise you're pointing towards what appears to be a blank spot between two stars. Either a canned image or a live CCD image would be just spectacular. The trick is how to present it. Perhaps an LCD projector and screen located in the center of the gathering, one that can be completely blackened with a simple shutter mechanism.
This has potential. Must dwell on this some more.
Monday, June 04, 2007
So Little Time...
I've been very busy. Life has a way of doing that to you; it sneaks up on and swallows all of your spare time to the point where things that matter so much to you suddenly get placed further and further on the back-burner, to the point where they verge on being forgotten altogether.
While that's not the case with my love for astronomy (I've started a column and have been writing it for the past two months), it has become the case with my Vagabonding.
I just don't do it as much as I once did. And that's sad for me.
What I loved so much about my form of astronomy is that I didn't have schedules to keep, agendas to order. I just picked a night, a location, and I did it. Very simple. It was sidewalk astronomy with an edge. It worked for me.
It's not that I haven't done events, I've done several in the past month alone. But these were always meticulously planned and plotted The spontaneity ceased to matter. Now, don't get me wrong, the NEFAS sponsored events have to be organized. Not that I have anything against organization; for those events to run properly, there has to be organization. At least a basic plan of some sort.
The whole idea behind the Vagabond Astronomer was to bring the stars to the people; "One man, on a mission...". They were random events. Set up the scopes where the people are, that was the idea. Book store parking lots, city parks, sidewalks. If there was room for telescope or two, I'd try to be there.
Even beyond that, though, is the issue of time. Somehow, I've managed to mismanage my time to the point where I can't set aside even a few hours a week, even just a couple, for this noble (and yes, it is) endeavor. I don't watch much television (darned little at all, in fact). Surely, I can fit this in.
I also miss writing on this blog. Somehow, the column has supplanted the blog, but it's not nearly as personal. It isn't necessary for the two to dovetail into one another, they should remain separate. How long does it take me to write? Not much time at all, in fact, once the creative juices are flowing. And when it comes to astronomy, my mind is, well, always on it. I won't lie about that; I am obsessed with it! And I want to share that. And I've not been doing it as well as I used to.
How long will it be before the Vagabond is up and running again? Sooner than you think.
I hope.
While that's not the case with my love for astronomy (I've started a column and have been writing it for the past two months), it has become the case with my Vagabonding.
I just don't do it as much as I once did. And that's sad for me.
What I loved so much about my form of astronomy is that I didn't have schedules to keep, agendas to order. I just picked a night, a location, and I did it. Very simple. It was sidewalk astronomy with an edge. It worked for me.
It's not that I haven't done events, I've done several in the past month alone. But these were always meticulously planned and plotted The spontaneity ceased to matter. Now, don't get me wrong, the NEFAS sponsored events have to be organized. Not that I have anything against organization; for those events to run properly, there has to be organization. At least a basic plan of some sort.
The whole idea behind the Vagabond Astronomer was to bring the stars to the people; "One man, on a mission...". They were random events. Set up the scopes where the people are, that was the idea. Book store parking lots, city parks, sidewalks. If there was room for telescope or two, I'd try to be there.
Even beyond that, though, is the issue of time. Somehow, I've managed to mismanage my time to the point where I can't set aside even a few hours a week, even just a couple, for this noble (and yes, it is) endeavor. I don't watch much television (darned little at all, in fact). Surely, I can fit this in.
I also miss writing on this blog. Somehow, the column has supplanted the blog, but it's not nearly as personal. It isn't necessary for the two to dovetail into one another, they should remain separate. How long does it take me to write? Not much time at all, in fact, once the creative juices are flowing. And when it comes to astronomy, my mind is, well, always on it. I won't lie about that; I am obsessed with it! And I want to share that. And I've not been doing it as well as I used to.
How long will it be before the Vagabond is up and running again? Sooner than you think.
I hope.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Telescopes & People
I've made many discoveries in the past twelve years as a space advocate and astronomy educator. When dealing with a visually attuned public, you need visuals, be they videos, slide shows or models. The discoveries I made deal with the fragile nature of these items.
The first thing I discovered is that regular commercial model kits are far too fragile, the more detailed the more fragile. Many has been the time that a model of the space shuttle has returned to me with parts askew. So, I've resorted to making sturdier models.
The same is true of telescopes. Especially when one considers the costs of even a small telescope versus the costs of even a complex model (which is usually in the form of hours spent building it).
The problem is that even simple telescopes and their mounts can be sensitive affairs. True, it is pretty difficult to break a metal mounting bracket, but that isn't the real issue here. The real issue is that, aside from one telescope design, most telescopes are really not designed to be used in large group settings.
The most common telescope mount is the altitude/azimuth (or alt/az) mount. This is the one you'll find on most cheap telescopes and it provides the two most basic planes of movement; lateral and vertical (that is, side to side and up and down). For low power, this is an ideal setup. Their problem lies in the fact that the Earth is rotating; soon the object you have them aimed at drifts out of view. Simple fix; you simply move the telescope, right? Well, you end up moving it slightly in two different planes, but again for low power, this is fine.
Astronomers overcome this by resorting to another mount design, the equatorial mount. This allows the telescope to track objects by being aligned with the Earth's axis; its movements match right ascension (RA) and declination (DEC). Two stay on an object is simply a modest move towards the west. Many of these mounts are motorized and will stay on their targets when properly aligned.
It's that proper alignment that is the issue here. People are people and will want to move the telescope themselves, and in doing so might move it off axis, creating a problem in trying to keep an object on target.
What do you do in either case?
For a long time, I'd only take one telescope on my outings. That's great for basic Vagabonding. When I'm in a class setting, though, it gets trying, so several scopes have to be brought. To keep people from bumping into one another while using the instruments it is necessary to keep them fairly distant from one another. Example; one telescope might be aimed at the Moon, another aimed at Venus and yet another aimed at the Beehive Cluster. The distance between them should be better than ten feet. Sounds easy, but what usually happens is I find myself running from one instrument to another. Good exercise, at least!
Then, a visitor, in their desire to be helpful, turns the wrong thing, sometimes the focuser. I'm serious here, some people think that that will move the telescope, or that the previous person unfocused the telescope and that the target hasn't drifted out of the field but is simply extremely out of focus. In their frustration, they then start to move the scope itself around, pointing everywhere in an effort to find the object. Try as they may, it simply adds to their frustration, followed by the plaintive calls of "Mr. Little? We lost the target!"
Sigh.
But this is not really a grumble, for there are solutions. First, let them know that telescopes are sensitive by their nature and that if something does go wrong, simply call for the professional on site (me). Second, because there will be those who want to help, give a basic explanation of the parts of the scope; which ones they can touch, which ones they shouldn't ("you can move the scope if you want to, but please don't touch the focuser"). Third, and this is tied to the second point, make sure that finder scopes are properly aligned and explain its purpose before your viewing begins. Trust me here; I failed to do that on my last outing as I was running late. There were many very bright people in that group who could have done the job, but since I hadn't done mine, they couldn't help. Lesson learned; take time to make sure they are aligned. By following those rules, a group viewing can be guaranteed to be a success. Believe me, the teacher has been taught!
Now, what sort of telescope is best suited for large public viewings? The Dobsonian. Easy to use, easy to setup, compact mount (try transporting eight tripods in a minivan and you'll long for Dobsonians!), the Dobsonian is perhaps the best tool for the trick.
And I lack one.
Sigh...
The first thing I discovered is that regular commercial model kits are far too fragile, the more detailed the more fragile. Many has been the time that a model of the space shuttle has returned to me with parts askew. So, I've resorted to making sturdier models.
The same is true of telescopes. Especially when one considers the costs of even a small telescope versus the costs of even a complex model (which is usually in the form of hours spent building it).
The problem is that even simple telescopes and their mounts can be sensitive affairs. True, it is pretty difficult to break a metal mounting bracket, but that isn't the real issue here. The real issue is that, aside from one telescope design, most telescopes are really not designed to be used in large group settings.
The most common telescope mount is the altitude/azimuth (or alt/az) mount. This is the one you'll find on most cheap telescopes and it provides the two most basic planes of movement; lateral and vertical (that is, side to side and up and down). For low power, this is an ideal setup. Their problem lies in the fact that the Earth is rotating; soon the object you have them aimed at drifts out of view. Simple fix; you simply move the telescope, right? Well, you end up moving it slightly in two different planes, but again for low power, this is fine.
Astronomers overcome this by resorting to another mount design, the equatorial mount. This allows the telescope to track objects by being aligned with the Earth's axis; its movements match right ascension (RA) and declination (DEC). Two stay on an object is simply a modest move towards the west. Many of these mounts are motorized and will stay on their targets when properly aligned.
It's that proper alignment that is the issue here. People are people and will want to move the telescope themselves, and in doing so might move it off axis, creating a problem in trying to keep an object on target.
What do you do in either case?
For a long time, I'd only take one telescope on my outings. That's great for basic Vagabonding. When I'm in a class setting, though, it gets trying, so several scopes have to be brought. To keep people from bumping into one another while using the instruments it is necessary to keep them fairly distant from one another. Example; one telescope might be aimed at the Moon, another aimed at Venus and yet another aimed at the Beehive Cluster. The distance between them should be better than ten feet. Sounds easy, but what usually happens is I find myself running from one instrument to another. Good exercise, at least!
Then, a visitor, in their desire to be helpful, turns the wrong thing, sometimes the focuser. I'm serious here, some people think that that will move the telescope, or that the previous person unfocused the telescope and that the target hasn't drifted out of the field but is simply extremely out of focus. In their frustration, they then start to move the scope itself around, pointing everywhere in an effort to find the object. Try as they may, it simply adds to their frustration, followed by the plaintive calls of "Mr. Little? We lost the target!"
Sigh.
But this is not really a grumble, for there are solutions. First, let them know that telescopes are sensitive by their nature and that if something does go wrong, simply call for the professional on site (me). Second, because there will be those who want to help, give a basic explanation of the parts of the scope; which ones they can touch, which ones they shouldn't ("you can move the scope if you want to, but please don't touch the focuser"). Third, and this is tied to the second point, make sure that finder scopes are properly aligned and explain its purpose before your viewing begins. Trust me here; I failed to do that on my last outing as I was running late. There were many very bright people in that group who could have done the job, but since I hadn't done mine, they couldn't help. Lesson learned; take time to make sure they are aligned. By following those rules, a group viewing can be guaranteed to be a success. Believe me, the teacher has been taught!
Now, what sort of telescope is best suited for large public viewings? The Dobsonian. Easy to use, easy to setup, compact mount (try transporting eight tripods in a minivan and you'll long for Dobsonians!), the Dobsonian is perhaps the best tool for the trick.
And I lack one.
Sigh...
Friday, March 09, 2007
A Tale Of Two Worlds
"Just how many planets are in the sky right now?"
(image courtesy Palm Beach Post)
That's a question I've heard time and time again. That is actually a complicated question that has a few answers. The truth is that they are all in the sky... the question really comes down to which ones can you see?
Fortunately for us, there are two fine examples visible right now after sunset, Venus in the west and Saturn in the east. Both are glorious in their own right, with brilliant Venus heading towards elongation (its highest point in the western sky, which it will reach on June 9th) and golden Saturn sitting in Leo, not too far from the bright star Regulus (but far out shining it).
The First Star I see Tonight... Isn't...
(image courtesy of "Your Sky")
A star, that is. Even before the last traces of sunlight fade in the west, Venus blazes, very much like that ephemeral "diamond in the sky". Wait until approximately 7pm ET (8pm EDT) to get a good idea of why this planet is frequently mistaken for airplane landing lights (or a UFO!); it is extremely bright, rivaling only the Moon in the night sky. Right now, as viewed telescopically from Terra Firma, it looks for all the world like a gibbous moon. In fact, when viewed from Earth, Venus goes through phases. This is what Galileo discovered in 1610 (both Mercury and Venus appear to go through phases; however Venus is by far the easiest to observe. You need a pretty good telescope to observe Mercury's phases). When Galileo made his observations of Venus, he confirmed the Copernican model of the Solar System to be correct, that the planets orbit the Sun.
(image courtesy IMSS - Firenze)
(image courtesy IMSS - Firenze)Even with a modest telescope, you can observe these phases. However, they will not be truly startling until after maximum elongation (again, June 9th), when it will cease to be even and ellipsoid and start to go through quarter and crescent phases. Not only will the phases be more dramatic, Venus will appear larger, since this portion of its orbit rakes it closer to our Earth. For now, Venus should appear as a small, albeit lopsided, disk. It is best viewed with at least 50 magnification in order to show even this (more on that, but next...).
The Lord Of The Rings
Well, I'm pretty sure that that particular label has been applied to Saturn perhaps too often, but was once applied to yours truly in an article in the Palm Beach Post way back in December 2001.
(image courtesy Palm Beach Post)But this is about the planet Saturn and not me. So much has already been written about Saturn already but I feel that there is always room for more. Saturn is simply amazing these spring evenings. It passed opposition (when it lies opposite the Sun in our skies, effectively coming up at sunset) on February 10th, at which point it was at this orbit's closest approach. So, it is still relatively nearer to us at this time than it normally is.
(image courtesy of "Your Sky")
It is important to remember, though, that the planet Saturn is already 9 times larger than Venus (and its near size twin Earth) and lies over ten times more distant. Its rings span out over twice the planets diameter as well. What does this mean to us here on Earth?
Basically, it means that even a modest telescope with as low as 20 magnification shows Saturn as more than just a disk; it looks like a grain of rice at low power, and 50x and above show the true majesty of the ring system.
This is a great time for observing both planets, but as summer rolls along and Venus begins its descent back into the sunset, the skies will become even more wonderful as Saturn joins it in the west for a celestial rendezvous. Stay tuned!
The Vagabond will be setting up at Ed Austin Regional Park off of McCormick Road at 7pm on March 13th, near the western most parking lots. While light pollution will no doubt be a problem, we will be looking at two fairly bright objects. A little further afield and later in the week NEFAS and my fellow members will be out at Osceola National Park on the night of the 17th as well.
Hope to see you soon.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Why Do This?
I just returned form another successful thrift store run looking for used optics. Score this time was a pair of Sears 7 x 35 porro prism binoculars, as well as a much needed (and brand spanking new!) external USB floppy drive for my my iBook plus a Pickett N1010-ES slide rule (it's a geek thing, you wouldn't understand). Total for the entire haul - around $10 USD, the binoculars costing just $2.99 (the slide rule was $2 and the floppy drive $5... and did I mention it was new?). The quest for cheap optics might seem a little obsessive, but there is a good reason for it; optics are not cheap, and my vocation of sharing the stars with the masses requires that I have plenty of tools for the task at hand. Binoculars are wonderful for this, even if 7 x 35s are on the smallish size.
How much do I make off of Vagabonding? Nothing.
So, I spend with no hope for compensation. I have at last count eight usable telescopes plus the parts to make two more, and all of them are being setup for Vagabonding. Again, more out of pocket. And I'm not complaining... this is my mission, after all, my vocation and my gift to the world.
It might seem a Quixotic pursuit at times, and one that might even be fraught with serious problems. But this is my take on it; you get enough people to look up at the night sky, at the wonder that is Creation, and perhaps you can inspire them to think of grander things and see that humanity has infinite possibility. The night skies and the true depth of the universe can seem incredibly humbling, making us seem tiny in comparison (and, to be honest, we are). The universe, though, might be ours for the taking if we believe that we can reach those worlds, around our Sun and the countless others that circle stars nearby and distant.
I especially enjoy working with young people, children. Some of them are genuinely enthralled with the grandeur and the beauty of the cosmos. They have not been humbled down by life and for them the possibilities are truly endless. In his 1977 book "Illusions", writer Richard Bach has a character describe the human race as the "otters of the universe", that in reality we are all fun loving, adventurous beings. This is especially true of the young. For them, there is time and space enough for play and adventure, and for many the universe offers just that. Encouraging children to view the universe not as just some distant, inaccessible place but as a place where we live gives hope to humanity, that we can continue to thrive through adversity; ad astra per aspera.
I've often quoted this but it certainly bears repeating. Back in December of 2002, I attended the Connecticut Forum "Scientific Journey" in Hartford. One of the panelists was Edward O. Wilson, the noted naturalist. Towards the end of the forum, there was a question and answer session and the following was put to Dr. Wilson; "how long do you think the human race will last?"
With nary a pause, he responded "I think we'll last forever, or at least until the end of time."
That is a sentiment I share as well.
So, why do I do this? Because we have within us the ability to last as long as the universe itself, and maybe even beyond that. We have been endowed with that possibility. We should encourage it in each and everyone of us. Perhaps, if we look up long enough and dream of those distant pinpoints of light, we may begin longing to reach them.
How much do I make off of Vagabonding? Nothing.
So, I spend with no hope for compensation. I have at last count eight usable telescopes plus the parts to make two more, and all of them are being setup for Vagabonding. Again, more out of pocket. And I'm not complaining... this is my mission, after all, my vocation and my gift to the world.
It might seem a Quixotic pursuit at times, and one that might even be fraught with serious problems. But this is my take on it; you get enough people to look up at the night sky, at the wonder that is Creation, and perhaps you can inspire them to think of grander things and see that humanity has infinite possibility. The night skies and the true depth of the universe can seem incredibly humbling, making us seem tiny in comparison (and, to be honest, we are). The universe, though, might be ours for the taking if we believe that we can reach those worlds, around our Sun and the countless others that circle stars nearby and distant.
I especially enjoy working with young people, children. Some of them are genuinely enthralled with the grandeur and the beauty of the cosmos. They have not been humbled down by life and for them the possibilities are truly endless. In his 1977 book "Illusions", writer Richard Bach has a character describe the human race as the "otters of the universe", that in reality we are all fun loving, adventurous beings. This is especially true of the young. For them, there is time and space enough for play and adventure, and for many the universe offers just that. Encouraging children to view the universe not as just some distant, inaccessible place but as a place where we live gives hope to humanity, that we can continue to thrive through adversity; ad astra per aspera.
I've often quoted this but it certainly bears repeating. Back in December of 2002, I attended the Connecticut Forum "Scientific Journey" in Hartford. One of the panelists was Edward O. Wilson, the noted naturalist. Towards the end of the forum, there was a question and answer session and the following was put to Dr. Wilson; "how long do you think the human race will last?"
With nary a pause, he responded "I think we'll last forever, or at least until the end of time."
That is a sentiment I share as well.
So, why do I do this? Because we have within us the ability to last as long as the universe itself, and maybe even beyond that. We have been endowed with that possibility. We should encourage it in each and everyone of us. Perhaps, if we look up long enough and dream of those distant pinpoints of light, we may begin longing to reach them.
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