Dark Skies

One of the things that I miss since moving to Michigan is the star-soaked night sky. Back in Newcomb I could go out any night that was not completely socked in by clouds and see millions upon millions of stars. I couldn't hold up a hair and not have it touch stars. Here, when I go out at night, I can hold up my hand and move it across vast areas of sky and not hit a single star. People here say how lucky I am to live where I live because I'm "out in the country" and get to see so many stars. They have no idea.

I found this video today from Yosemite - perhaps it'll give you a taste of what I have lost.

Speaking of the Moon

Hey - have you seen that email that is making the rounds - the one declaring we should all go outside at 12:30 AM on 27 August to see Mars as big as the moon in the sky?

Well...

Don't You Believe It!

I mean, seriously, folks - do you really think that Mars, which is soooo far away, could EVER appear as large as the moon? It would have to be practically on top of the moon to look that big, and that would mean it would have to leave its orbit. Not gonna happen!

But, if you should decide to look out your window at the moon on the 27th, you might see something bright near the moon. That will be Jupiter...just in case you are wondering.

If you don't believe me, check out this article:
http://earthsky.org/astronomy-essentials/will-mars-appear-as-large-as-a-full-moon-in-august-2010.

Happy sky watching!

Blue Moon

...unless it really is made of cheese, in which case it would be Bleu Moon. :)


But seriously, folks, tonight is the night we get to experience what has commonly become known as a Blue Moon, the second full moon that occurs in one month. This phenomenon actually happens about every two and a half years (actually, it's closer to every 32 months), so it isn't really all that uncommon.

However, it turns out that what we consider a Blue Moon is not what the originators of the idea of a Blue Moon had in mind. In the earlier part of the 1900s (1932-1957), the Maine Farmer's Almanac came up with the moniker Blue Moon to describe the third moon in a season that had four full moons. Huh? Usually, each season has only three full moons (four seasons, twelve months, equals three months per season, usually with one moon each month). Because the lunar cycle is 28 days, there are always a few days left over each month, so eventually they add up to 28 days and voila, a fourth moon appears during a given season. Rather than call this fourth moon the Blue Moon, though, they decided to give that title to the third moon - I have no idea why.

Anyway, apparently someone wrote an article about the Blue Moon in a 1946 issue of "Sky and Telescope" magazine and misquoted the Almanac, stating that when two moons occur within a single month, the second one is a Blue Moon. This idea stuck - most likely because the error was repeated until it became familiar.

So, if you are a purist, tonight's Blue Moon really isn't, because in fact it is the first full moon of the winter season.

Of course, none of this actually explains why it's called a Blue moon; after all, it's not blue.

The moon only appears blue when atmospheric conditions are right. These conditions involve dust (soot, ash) high in the atmosphere in copious quantities. For example, the last time genuinely blue moons were reported was after Mt. Pinatubo erupted in the Philippines in June 1991. Blue, and even lavender, moons were seen for quite some time around the world.

Tonight, however, folks in Europe, Asia and Africa will get to see a sort of reddish moon, thanks to the partial lunar eclipse that is also occuring. Those of us in North and South America will miss this due to the time the eclipse is occuring. If you want to see it, you'll have to hop on a plane pretty soon and head to the other side of the planet.

And for those who are curious about the photo, I took it last night. It wasn't blue; I played around with the photo this morning before posting. A girl's gotta have a little fun now and then, eh?

Dang - I Missed It

I was kind of looking forward to looking at the Geminids Sunday night/Monday morning, but it was heavily overcast and the only white things shooting across the heavens were snowflakes (although some of them were pretty impressive).

Still, I did see one "shooting star" Saturday night while standing on the back steps waiting for Toby to return from his rounds of the yard.

Geminid Meteor Shower - Coming Soon to a Field Near You

Thanks to my good friend Tom for giving me a heads-up on the forthcoming Geminid Meteor Shower, which will be peaking this Sunday night/Monday morning (13/14 December 2009). According to info available at assorted on-line sources, the show will be at its best starting after midnight, but already folks are reporting seeing meteors (not around here, though - the only white things shooting across the night sky here lately have been snowflakes...oh, and snow geese).

A good link for info is the Astronomy.com website.

According to Astronomy.com, these meteors are bits of dust entering our atmosphere and are believed to be related in some way to the orbit of an asteroid called Phaethon. There is some speculation that this asteroid may have been a comet at one point in time.

So, bundle up (especially if it is a clear night - brrrr) and look up. They say that the show will be exceptional, with upwards of 140 meteors an hour (more than 2/minute).

Another Night in the Cold

Okay, I promise this is the last set of night sky photos...for a while.

I scoped out viewing locations on the golf course last night while walking the dog. The spots I thought would be good, weren't so hot, and I ended up in a very easily accessed spot, on a bit of a slope, with great views of Santanoni Mountain.

When 8:30 rolled around, I loaded up my gear. With my ISO set at 3200, I was able to take shots no longer than 15 seconds, which cut down immensely on the blurring.

The big dipper was glorious over Santanoni:

The Milkyway is always spectacular:

It was too early for Orion to be up, so I went back home to wait. About 10:30-ish I opened the back door to let the dog out in the yard, and Orion was up enough for me to get this shot:

At 1:30 AM Orion had gained enough altitude that Sirius, the nose of the constellation Canis Major, was visible. But, it was late, I was only up because the dog wanted to go out, and I wasn't about to set up the camera again. Maybe later in the winter when Orion rises earlier and Sirius is visible by 8:00 PM.

In fact, I find winter to be the best time for stargazing. I suspect it is because the atmosphere is clearer - low humidity. I've also read that pollutants are reduced in the winter sky. Whatever the reason, on a clear night in winter the stars are absolutely stunning. It is also the time of year when easily recognizable constellations are visible: Orion, the Dippers (although the Big Dipper is technically an asterism, an easily recognized shape that is part of a larger constellation, in this case Ursa Major), Cassiopeia. The only downside of winter stargazing is the temperature.

"Holy Cow!"

Well, those weren't exactly my words, but close. I was sitting here looking at my photo of Orion from last night (I didn't post it before because it's not a great shot), trying to identify some of the stars (like the reddish one in Orion's right shoulder - on your left - that is Betelgeuse), when I hit the "Quick Fix" button just to see what that would do to the photo. Here are the results:

Before: that's Orion, rather small, at the bottom. The three stars stacked in a row are Orion's belt. The brightest on the left, that's Betelgeuse. It doesn't look too terribly red in this picture, but zoomed in it does.

After: doesn't even look like the same picture, does it? Can you still find Orion's belt, those three stars in a row? His dagger, the three others in a row, closer together, descending at an angle from left to right below the belt, really show up now. And where did all those trees come from?!? Y'know, I didn't even see all these stars last night, and I was standing there staring at them. The street lights (there are several at this spot) drowned them out.

Here are a couple more "Quick Fixed" shots. They're both the same view, but each was shot at a different ISO, which explains the difference in color and light. The first one shows the sky as I saw it. And I really like the second one - it looks like some of the photos from outerspace! The glow in that shot is from Long Lake.

It's amazing what a little computer magic can do, eh?

Starry, Starry Night

It was a brisk 27 degrees Fahrenheit last night, according to my car's thermometer, as I stood out on the golf course trying to capture the night sky with my camera. It was about 9:30, and I was there until about 10:30. Not prime time to witness the Leonids (20-30/hour? Hardly.), but I did see about five. The camera didn't see any. My goal, however, was not the Leonids, but the stars en masse, because the night sky in the Adirondacks is breathtakingly beautiful. This proved to be easier said than done.

First, how do you focus when the only thing you see through the lens/viewfinder is pitch darkness? It took a few false starts to get that wrinkle ironed out.

Then, how do you get enough light to actually show up the stars? After about half an hour of highly questionable success, I figured my best bet was to set the camera for a faster ISO. So, I went from 200 to 800 to 1600 to 2600. Suddenly, stars were appearing in the images. Woo-hoo!

This here is the Milkyway.

The next wrinkle is going to be a bit more difficult to tackle. Y'see, the stars move. Okay, technically the Earth is moving, but for all intents and purposes, from our viewpoint, it's the stars. And even though we can stare and stare at the stars and never see them budge, the camera's eye is more sensitive, and those stars might as well be fidgety kids. Not a single photo came out with nice, crisp stars. I think the answer is going to be to jack the ISO to its most sensitive setting, and take shots with the fastest possible shutter speed. Yep - this means another night on the golf course. This time, however, I will bring a hat, coat and mittens.


There she is, the Big Dipper, Ursa Major, the Quillwork Girl and her Seven Brothers. This was looking northward, towards Lake Placid. Now, from where I was standing, any glow from LP was hidden by the trees, and even when I have a clear line in that direction (as much as you can in Newcomb), the glow isn't really all that noticeable. Sure, you can make out LP, and Saranac Lake, Tupper Lake and Long Lake, but for the most part they are usually only faint, almost foggy, lights close to the horizon. Well...not to the camera. Why, you'd almost think there was a forest fire on the way!

Alrighty then. Tonight I will have all the time in the world. No chorus practice, no yoga class, no quilters' meetings. I'll feed everyone (dog, cat, boss's birds, me), walk the dog, and then load the camera and tripod into the car. And this time I think I will head out to the 8th fairway, away from all the lights (I didn't feel up to it last night). That should make the sky just a wee bit darker, and perhaps the stars will show up even better. Ooo - the fifth would be even better. Maybe I'll take a headlamp along...

Oops!

Well, it looks like the Leonids were peaking THIS morning, not Thursday morning. Needless to say, I was snuggled in my toasty warm bed with the dog and the cat at 4 AM, so I didn't see them. Maybe I'll take a gander outside tonight.

However, our maintenance man was telling me this morning that he was out looking for them around 2 and 3 AM, and he didn't see anything.

Meanwhile, there is a rumor of a plane crashing on Santanoni Mt. last night (which is one of the High Peaks really close to Newcomb). Both Mr. Mike and I recall hearing a helicopter last night, so that might've been the search and rescue folks. I'm off to see what I can find out on-line.

Leonid Meteor Show(er)

If you are feeling curious or are simply suffering from insomnia, you might want to get up Tuesday at 4 AM and step outside to watch the Leonid Meteor Shower. It will be in the western sky, in the contellation, you guessed it, Leo.

Like the Perseids in August, this is an annual event. Some years these shows are spectacular, with the sky seeming to rain with stars, while other years you stand there scanning the sky and thinking "Okay...where are they...I'm waiting..."

Maybe by then I'll have figured out night-time photography with the new digital and I will get up (ha) and carry camera and tripod to the golf course (the only place where I can get a streetlight-free view) for some shots. Don't hold your breath, but hey, you never know.

Celestial Triad

Did you see the heavenly convergence that occurred Monday night? I had heard on NCPR that it was coming up, but had forgotten the date. None-the-less, Toby and I were out early for our walk Monday night (5:30ish) and there it was: Jupiter, Venus and the crescent moon, forming a perfect triangle in the southern sky! All three were extremely bright. I expected the moon to move through the stars as the night progressed, but they all seemed to move together, for later that night I was in town and they were all still together in their same tidy triangle. Very impressive to see.



This photo was taken by Randy Bell, SSG, US Army in Bagdad, Iraq. It's a bit different from what I saw. In our sky here in Newcomb, the moon was in the upper left corner, Venus the upper right, and Jupiter was the point at the bottom center. If only I had my own digital camera!!!

Faster Than a Speeding Bullet

Yesterday morning the fine folks at North Country Public Radio did a spot on astronomical things to look for in the current night sky. Jupiter was featured, with its several moons (visible with binocs - although you should put them on a tripod to hold them steady), but the biggie was The Space Station. Yes - according to their guest astronomer (Jeff Miller, physics and astronomy prof. at St. Lawrence University) if we went out at 8:10 last night and looked towards the western horizon, we should see the Space Station as it cruised northeastward across the night sky at the mind-boggling speed of 17,000 mph!

So, last night, as Toby and I returned from our night walk, I made a couple phone calls to neighbors who also like celestial things. At 7:50 PM I headed down the street, armed with my binocs. I stopped and looked at Jupiter - a tripod is a really good idea. I didn't have one, so Jupiter was bouncing all over the place. I could see maybe one moon at about "7:00" to Jupiter. I picked up one of my neighbors and we headed to The Scenic Overlook - just down the street. We took up our spots behind the monument, blocking out the light from the dozen or so street lights in the immediate area, and waited.

Bracing our binocs against the stones of the monument, we could finally make out about four of Jupiter's moons: at 3:00, 5:00, and two at 7:00. We watched something presumably man-made zip across the sky, from the middle of the dome overhead down towards north, where it vanished. We suspect it was a satellite.

And we waited.

Ten minutes can really drag when you are waiting for something exciting to happen.

And sure enough, at 8:10 PM I saw something large, bright and red shoot out above the silhouetted trees to the west, like a shot from a cannon. It was the Space Station!!! And it was cruising! It arced up and up, heading northward, then northeast. As is sped across the heavens, it lost the bright red color, becoming plain white, shrinking in size, and finally vanishing all together as it entered the northeastern quadrant of the sky. On the radio they had said something about it disappearing as it entered the Earth's shadow (which we usually only see on the moon); maybe that was it.

The whole thing lasted about two minutes, but Charlotte and I figured it was well worth the price of admission.

Additionally, there was no moon out at that early hour, so the night sky was stunning, as it often is up here in the mountains. An arm of the Milky Way was draped across the heavens, its dense clusters of stars almost seeming like fog.

It's good to live in the mountains.

Sundogs and Iridescent Clouds

Have you ever seen a halo or circular rainbow around the sun? Sometimes it is close to the sun (a couple fingers' width), while other times it is huge - at least two hands' breadth from the sun. I always thought these were called sundogs, and that they were created in the same way regular rainbows are created - sunlight shining through water droplets. As it turns out, I was both right and wrong.

According to Wikipedia: A sun dog or sundog (scientific name parhelion, plural parhelia, i.e. "beside the sun") is a common bright circular spot on a solar halo. It is an atmospheric optical phenomenon primarily associated with the reflection or refraction of sunlight by small ice crystals making up cirrus or cirrostratus clouds. Two or more sundogs can often be seen on opposite sides of the sun simultaneously.

So, based on this, the photo on the left is actually a photo of sundogs, while the one on the right is merely the halo. (Photos are also from the Wikipedia entry on sundogs.) While I've seen these halos plenty of times, I've never seen the bright spots, or actual sundogs.

Another interesting atmospheric phenomenon that I have looked for for years is iridescent clouds. I came across these in a book entitled "The Color of Nature," by Pat Murphy and Paul Doherty. According to them, "Most clouds look white because they are made of water drops or ice crystals that scatter all colors of light in all directions. But occasionally, when conditions are just right, thin, high clouds will scatter colored light, creating beautiful bands of color. These clouds, known as iridescent, or opalescent, clouds, are made up of uniform drops of water, each of which is about the same size or smaller than a wavelength of red light. The drops scatter light of different wavelengths at different angles, creating the colors shown here. Bands of color may appear at the edge of a cloud. When a cloud with small, uniform water drops passes in from of the sun, the colors circle the sun, a phenomenon known as a corona."

The photos (included here) amazed me and I started my search. I asked other naturalists I knew if they had ever seen these; the answer was always no. Then lo! and behold! two summers ago (2006), while headed home from our morning walk (the dog and I), I looked up and saw iridescence in the clouds behind a tall white pine. I was stunned...amazed...in awe. And the next morning, I saw the same. It happened several times that summer. Hm...something must not be right, thought I. Afterall, what are the odds that I never see the things and now suddenly they are almost as common as fleas on a dog? I did some "experimenting" - that is to say, I took my glasses off the next time I saw the shimmer of colors in the clouds. And the colors disappeared. What a disappointment - it seems the various treatments on my lenses were affecting the wavelengths of light reaching my eyes, enhancing the colors in the clouds.

Does this mean I didn't really see the iridescence after all? HM. I have new glasses now, so my search continues.