February, 2011
Astronomy, why?
What is so exciting about looking at a bunch of stars? Asked by friends and strangers alike, I’ve fielded this question regularly over the years. Though the answer may seem obvious to those of us involved in the field, to many others, there’s just no understanding the fascination. Simply put, it comes down to an almost child-like curiosity. From my earliest remembrances as a third-grader, of when I got that original small telescope and pointed it at the moon. It was the first of the myriad “holy cow!” moments my life has entertained. Like the first girl you ever kissed, you never forget your first time at the eye-piece. As we all go through our day-to-day lives, especially after youth has faded and adult responsibilities take over, it’s easy to dismiss the stars. Hell, they’ve been there forever, they aren’t going anywhere soon and, once you’ve seen them, there’s nothing new under the sun, pardon the pun.
Now it may seem like an uphill battle to combat such indifference, but once you’ve seen the stars for yourself, I really believe you will understand the fascination. First, they’re not just stars. They’re suns. Just like the one that lights our way and warms us, the source of energy that makes our existence even possible, it’s our address, the beacon that marks our position on the galactic plane. And if you chose to delve into what exactly the sun is, you soon realize how far removed from the everyday it is. This imperfectly-shaped ball of predominantly, hot gases, its physics and mechanics operate at scales and temperatures that are nearly incalculable. So large on the macro scale that it crushes down onto itself promoting fusion at the opposite end of the spectrum, at the nuclear level. The result is energy that flows back out into space, sustaining life itself.
And it’s been doing that for billions of years, with billions left to go. So it’s old. Really old! But not the oldest. And here, is where the Devil’s advocate sticks a thorn into the discussion. As incredible as the sun is to comprehend, it’s just a average player in an opera with a cast of trillions. Perhaps potentially ego slaughtering as well, it’s not even one of the coolest ones. Nor is it one of the very large or small ones. Just an average schmo! How can anyone get excited about that?
It’s those other schmos! Some of them are thousands of times as large as the sun. Some brighter, ridiculously brighter. There are dimmer ones, even red and brown ones that are typically much older than our new kid on the block. Generations of suns, each building from the remnants of their predecessors and populating the universe now for over thirteen billion years. Some are brand new stars, in existence for less than a few million years, still enshrouded by the womb of interstellar dust and gases they were birthed from.
In many cases they conglomerate into massive clusters, all within the giant island universes we call galaxies. What’s even more fascinating is that with relatively little effort, we can actually look in on these fantastical neighborhoods. We can aim binoculars up into the sky and see loosely packed open clusters, like the Pleiades in Taurus, where dozens of bright blue stars catch even the attention of the naked-eye. Add binoculars or a small inexpensive telescope and be awed. It’s that simple.
And it’s not just stars, but planets and comets, nebulas and moon craters. Just one look, one attempt to see for yourself will answer the question for you. Today there’s also help from every corner: local groups, the internet, book stores, etc. Today, consumers can access small and large, basic or exotic telescopes, that can be operated by software that uses a computer to target the objects you want to explore They can even be linked to your desktop PC and turn your home or office into a planetarium.
It’s easy to be fascinated by the stars. Sharing that fascination has been my sole intent for the twenty years or so that the Lawnchair and I have been espousing this religion. Which is why I often encourage readers to invite those you care about to join in the adventure. See the universe we are all a part of. You won’t believe what an incredible place it is.
Clear Skies
The Lawnchair Astronomer
THE PLEAIDES - M-45
Image Credit: NASA, ESA, AURA/Caltech, Palomar Observatory
January, 2011
Sparkling Silence At Last
Can you
hear it? Parked out in the backyard, alongside a frozen,
marsh-mellow-entombed Lawnchair, staring up at a crystal clear night
sky, bursting with thousands of brilliant jewels - silence.
Beautiful, refreshing silence. No more holiday hoopla, incessant
television commercials and ancient syrupy jingles coming from every
nook and cranny. Just quiet, almost metaphysical stillness.
Above, a celestial canopy of glowing wonder. A treat for your
eyes. A break from your day. It’s a new year and what
better time to say hello to the giant, 50 kazillion megapixel
wrap-around universal monitor straddling the world.
Early on during this first month of 2011, we kick off the new year with a regularly pleasing meteor shower. The Quadrantids typically produces around 40 shooting-stars per hour under a good dark sky. The peak evenings to witness a few or a dozen of these, is after midnight on the 3rd and 4th of January. Remains from a once mighty asteroid, this millions of miles long debris trail can produce a variety of atmospheric incinerations. Some, quick, fleeting and often dim, others can leave visible trails of glowing light that can last for several seconds.
While you’re out enjoying the Quadrantids, rising off the eastern horizon after midnight, you can find Saturn beginning its journey up into the sky within the constellation Virgo. You can easily locate the ringed jewel above Spica, Virgo’s alpha star. (See Map) Note the color difference between Saturn and Spica - one a warm, steadily glowing amber, the other, a sparkling blue super giant. Relatively near to us at 260 light-years away, Spica is the 15th brightest star in the sky and shines 12,000 times brighter than our sun. It is also known as a Cepheid Variable star, used by astronomers as a standard candle in determining the distances of stars in external galaxies millions of light-years away from the Milky-way.
Early on during this first month of 2011, we kick off the new year with a regularly pleasing meteor shower. The Quadrantids typically produces around 40 shooting-stars per hour under a good dark sky. The peak evenings to witness a few or a dozen of these, is after midnight on the 3rd and 4th of January. Remains from a once mighty asteroid, this millions of miles long debris trail can produce a variety of atmospheric incinerations. Some, quick, fleeting and often dim, others can leave visible trails of glowing light that can last for several seconds.
While you’re out enjoying the Quadrantids, rising off the eastern horizon after midnight, you can find Saturn beginning its journey up into the sky within the constellation Virgo. You can easily locate the ringed jewel above Spica, Virgo’s alpha star. (See Map) Note the color difference between Saturn and Spica - one a warm, steadily glowing amber, the other, a sparkling blue super giant. Relatively near to us at 260 light-years away, Spica is the 15th brightest star in the sky and shines 12,000 times brighter than our sun. It is also known as a Cepheid Variable star, used by astronomers as a standard candle in determining the distances of stars in external galaxies millions of light-years away from the Milky-way.
For hardcore Lawnchair enthusiasts, there’s also an opportunity to capture a few trophy items this month. Soon after sunset high above the western horizon, Jupiter is the bright evening star. However, should you employ some sort of visual aid, it’s moons are a wonderful sight to behold. But the trophy would be a glimpse of Uranus, which can be detected alongside Jupiter. You’ll need a decent instrument to see Uranus, as it is quite dim, but unlike a star, it will glow steadily in the eye-piece.
I’d also like to mention that Winter’s greatest jewels are perfectly positioned for an evening’s worth of entertainment high above the southern horizon. Orion, Gemini, Taurus and Canis Major, to name just a few, are filled with some of the most fantastic deep-sky targets available to Lawnchair grade instruments. Facing south under a very dark sky, these are the murals of Winter that our distant ancestors came to wonder about and subsequently generated the fantastical stories of antiquity. These were their prime-time television specials!
New Year’s resolutions aside, the Lawnchair shouldn’t be left alone to gather its wintry dandruff while all these wonderful sights present themselves in silence. It’s perfectly okay to gather a crowd and share these celestial gifts with those you love and cherish. Memories like these will last a lifetime. Dress for an arctic adventure and you, nor they, will be disappointed.
Clear Skies
The Lawnchair Astronomer
Read Past Year's Column
