11/6/05 – 11/12/05
By C. Zaitz
What happens when you go straight up? Can you reach the edge of the universe? What is outside the universe? How and when did it all begin? As a planetarium director, I field a lot of tough questions like these. I never get tired of them, since they are the very questions I have as well. Much of humanity’s free time, once bellies were full and shelters were built, has been spent pondering these same questions.
Recently I attended a Cosmology course held by the Kavli Institute for Cosmological Physics at the University of Chicago. (http://kicp.uchicago.edu) The course is for science educators to be exposed to the latest in cosmology research. The course is not easy. Cosmological research is a heady mix of high energy physics, theoretical modeling, new experimental techniques and some serious out of the box thinking. Actually, it’s more like, “throw out the box and step into the unknown and bizarre.” But it is exciting to know that there are a group of folks trying to get the answers to such big questions.
I’d like to share with you the list of “Seven Things Everyone Should Know About the Universe.” The list can be found at the website quoted above.
1. The universe and all of space is expanding from a Big Bang beginning.
The concept of the Big Bang is that about 14 billion years ago, our universe began expanding at a great rate from a tiny point. People often imagine a big explosion in space, but it’s better to imagine space as cinnamon bread dough, and galaxies as raisins in the dough. When the dough rises, all the raisins get farther away from each other, but they are not moving through the dough, the dough itself is expanding. Our universe of raisin bread expanded very quickly in the beginning.
2. The microwave echo of the Big Bang with us allows us to see back to almost the beginning.
When we look in all directions in the universe, we see a microwave energy with very little variation. This energy can be measured at about three degrees above absolute zero. Very cold, but not ultimately cold. There is leftover energy from something. Theoretical models of the Big Bang predict this leftover energy. Besides providing proof of the big bang, the tiny variations of the background radiation have also unveiled secrets about the state of the very young universe.
3. In the very beginning, the universe was a hot soup of quarks and elementary particles. Apparently the universe was so hot that atoms couldn’t stay together. Hot in this case refers to the enormous energy and speeds the particles had, too much to make anything recognizable. That’s why it’s so very hard to see back to the very beginning of the universe- the universe was a mess and information about the mess didn’t transfer over to when the universe cooled enough for atoms to form. The microwave radiation was from this time, when the universe was about 300,000 years old.
Stay tuned next week for the second half of the list. You can also come to the Ensign Planetarium on November 16th, 7pm for Cool Cosmology. Meanwhile, check out Mars lingering in the eastern sky at sunset, or see him in the morning in the western sky. Venus makes her brief appearance in the west right after twilight.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Friday, June 30, 2006
Hubble’s Legacy
10/30/05 – 11/5/05
By C. Zaitz
It was spring of 1990. The Hubble Space Telescope, the giant space eye approved for funding in the 1960’s and built in the 70’s and 80’s, was finally set to launch despite being delayed by the Challenger shuttle disaster in 1986. The launch went smoothly and the Hubble was safely in orbit as earthling waited and wondered what strange and wonderful views would be forthcoming. It didn’t take long until the news trickled out, and it was bad news. The $2.5 billion dollar telescope was flawed. The Hubble’s vision was blurry.
As NASA quickly scraped egg from its face, scientists and engineers went into a frenzy trying to figure out what went wrong and who was to blame. The final analysis showed a measuring oversight by mirror builders Perkin-Elmer, with some fault lying at NASA’s feet for lack of oversight. Energy then turned toward fixing the problem. Within three years, the Hubble’s bad vision had been corrected, and the first glorious images began streaming from the mighty telescope. It didn’t take long to capture the public’s imagination, and now when we think of the Hubble, we think of the amazing pictures of dying stars and new stellar nurseries. The Eagle Nebula with its bubbles of newly forming solar systems now popularly known as “the pillars of creation” may well be the most famous image from the Hubble. 15 years later, the Hubble is still bombarding us with views of the Universe we have never before seen. It has peered to the edge of the observable universe, and showed us space littered with strange and far away galaxies at a much younger time in the universe. It has seen distant supernovae and from these images scientists have deduced that rather than slowing down, the expansion of the universe is actually speeding up. This notion has set cosmologists on their ears and has fueled new interest in cosmology.
The latest news is that our new NASA Administrator, Mike Griffin, has said that the servicing mission previously nixed by his predecessor Sean O’Keefe will be reexamined and that no final decision has been made as to the fate of the Hubble. Without a servicing mission, gravity will drag the giant eye back to earth, ripping it to shreds and incinerating it as it falls. Right now the Hubble is working with less than a full compliment of instruments that help it aim, but until a mission has been confirmed, scientists are trying to preserve and extend Hubble’s life. There are other telescopes in orbit and some planned for launch, but nothing that observes in the mostly optical wavelengths as Hubble does. Science will continue, but without the pretty pictures from the Hubble, it won’t be nearly as beautiful and awe-inspiring. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I need a little visual inspiration. Long live the Hubble! Check out this site for some very pretty pictures: http://hubblesite.org/gallery.
Meanwhile Mars couldn’t be prettier, and tonight (Sunday October 30th) is its closest approach for about 13 years. Look closely and you will notice its peachy color. Saturn shines away all morning in the south-eastern sky. Some of you may have noticed mighty Orion the Hunter in the wee hours of the morning. He’s making his way into the earlier part of the evening, and by winter he will be the “star” of the night sky.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
It was spring of 1990. The Hubble Space Telescope, the giant space eye approved for funding in the 1960’s and built in the 70’s and 80’s, was finally set to launch despite being delayed by the Challenger shuttle disaster in 1986. The launch went smoothly and the Hubble was safely in orbit as earthling waited and wondered what strange and wonderful views would be forthcoming. It didn’t take long until the news trickled out, and it was bad news. The $2.5 billion dollar telescope was flawed. The Hubble’s vision was blurry.
As NASA quickly scraped egg from its face, scientists and engineers went into a frenzy trying to figure out what went wrong and who was to blame. The final analysis showed a measuring oversight by mirror builders Perkin-Elmer, with some fault lying at NASA’s feet for lack of oversight. Energy then turned toward fixing the problem. Within three years, the Hubble’s bad vision had been corrected, and the first glorious images began streaming from the mighty telescope. It didn’t take long to capture the public’s imagination, and now when we think of the Hubble, we think of the amazing pictures of dying stars and new stellar nurseries. The Eagle Nebula with its bubbles of newly forming solar systems now popularly known as “the pillars of creation” may well be the most famous image from the Hubble. 15 years later, the Hubble is still bombarding us with views of the Universe we have never before seen. It has peered to the edge of the observable universe, and showed us space littered with strange and far away galaxies at a much younger time in the universe. It has seen distant supernovae and from these images scientists have deduced that rather than slowing down, the expansion of the universe is actually speeding up. This notion has set cosmologists on their ears and has fueled new interest in cosmology.
The latest news is that our new NASA Administrator, Mike Griffin, has said that the servicing mission previously nixed by his predecessor Sean O’Keefe will be reexamined and that no final decision has been made as to the fate of the Hubble. Without a servicing mission, gravity will drag the giant eye back to earth, ripping it to shreds and incinerating it as it falls. Right now the Hubble is working with less than a full compliment of instruments that help it aim, but until a mission has been confirmed, scientists are trying to preserve and extend Hubble’s life. There are other telescopes in orbit and some planned for launch, but nothing that observes in the mostly optical wavelengths as Hubble does. Science will continue, but without the pretty pictures from the Hubble, it won’t be nearly as beautiful and awe-inspiring. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I need a little visual inspiration. Long live the Hubble! Check out this site for some very pretty pictures: http://hubblesite.org/gallery.
Meanwhile Mars couldn’t be prettier, and tonight (Sunday October 30th) is its closest approach for about 13 years. Look closely and you will notice its peachy color. Saturn shines away all morning in the south-eastern sky. Some of you may have noticed mighty Orion the Hunter in the wee hours of the morning. He’s making his way into the earlier part of the evening, and by winter he will be the “star” of the night sky.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Close Approach
10/23/05 – 10/29/05
By C. Zaitz
Usually we think of the Full Moon of October as harbinger of Halloween, perhaps because when it rises it often looks like a giant pumpkin. But the Full Moon was a while ago, and there is another bright object in the night sky which could usher in the night of costumes and candy, of spirits and falling leaves. Mars has been sneaking into the early evening sky and is now approaching its brightest appearance for the next 13 years. It’s a brilliant orange hue and out-sparkles anything around it. And on October 30th, it will be as close to the earth as it will get until 2016, at about 43 million miles from our planet.
You may remember the big fuss about Mars back in 2003. It was, “as close as it will get to the Earth for 60,000 years!” as the headlines read. And while that was true, Mars was also fairly low in the Michigan sky and you had to look through a lot of earth’s atmosphere to see it. In 2005, Mars won’t be quite as close, but will be much higher in the sky, easier to see. A view through small (4”) telescopes will reveal ice caps and markings on Mars that are usually only seen through larger telescopes. Mars rises around 5:30 pm at the end of October, but you may want to wait until later in the evening to view it, perhaps 9 or 10 pm. It will glow like a distant Jack-O-Lantern in the October sky.
In the past I have had a unique treat for trick-or – treaters bold enough to visit my house. I have my little 4” telescope ready and pointed at the Moon or a planet, and before the little dinosaurs and princesses can grab the candy, they must look through the telescope. I even encourage the adults to do so. This year I’m very excited about having Mars to look at, and I’m hoping for clear skies this Halloween. Often I give out Milky Ways and Starbursts, but I think this year the theme will be Mars bars, if I can find any. If you’d like to be the “weird scientist” on the block, be sure to locate Mars from your front yard a few nights before Halloween, so you can easily point it out to the little goblins as they reach for the stash of sugary snacks. If you happen to own a small telescope or a nice pair of binoculars, be sure to use them that night. You can tell them that Mars is as close as it will be until they are almost “grown-up.”
Meanwhile, NASA has sent a probe to Mars with a camera on board that is the biggest that has even been sent to another planet. The Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter was launched in August and will arrive in March of 2006 to start spying on the red planet from orbit. Even from high above Mars, it will be able to see something as small as a dishwasher on the surface with its giant telescope eye. As you spy on Mars from our dusty orb, you can imagine the little craft speeding its way to the red planet while we wait, temporarily stranded here on earth. Some day, maybe one of us will be speeding our way to Mars. Now that will be a spectacular close approach!
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
Usually we think of the Full Moon of October as harbinger of Halloween, perhaps because when it rises it often looks like a giant pumpkin. But the Full Moon was a while ago, and there is another bright object in the night sky which could usher in the night of costumes and candy, of spirits and falling leaves. Mars has been sneaking into the early evening sky and is now approaching its brightest appearance for the next 13 years. It’s a brilliant orange hue and out-sparkles anything around it. And on October 30th, it will be as close to the earth as it will get until 2016, at about 43 million miles from our planet.
You may remember the big fuss about Mars back in 2003. It was, “as close as it will get to the Earth for 60,000 years!” as the headlines read. And while that was true, Mars was also fairly low in the Michigan sky and you had to look through a lot of earth’s atmosphere to see it. In 2005, Mars won’t be quite as close, but will be much higher in the sky, easier to see. A view through small (4”) telescopes will reveal ice caps and markings on Mars that are usually only seen through larger telescopes. Mars rises around 5:30 pm at the end of October, but you may want to wait until later in the evening to view it, perhaps 9 or 10 pm. It will glow like a distant Jack-O-Lantern in the October sky.
In the past I have had a unique treat for trick-or – treaters bold enough to visit my house. I have my little 4” telescope ready and pointed at the Moon or a planet, and before the little dinosaurs and princesses can grab the candy, they must look through the telescope. I even encourage the adults to do so. This year I’m very excited about having Mars to look at, and I’m hoping for clear skies this Halloween. Often I give out Milky Ways and Starbursts, but I think this year the theme will be Mars bars, if I can find any. If you’d like to be the “weird scientist” on the block, be sure to locate Mars from your front yard a few nights before Halloween, so you can easily point it out to the little goblins as they reach for the stash of sugary snacks. If you happen to own a small telescope or a nice pair of binoculars, be sure to use them that night. You can tell them that Mars is as close as it will be until they are almost “grown-up.”
Meanwhile, NASA has sent a probe to Mars with a camera on board that is the biggest that has even been sent to another planet. The Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter was launched in August and will arrive in March of 2006 to start spying on the red planet from orbit. Even from high above Mars, it will be able to see something as small as a dishwasher on the surface with its giant telescope eye. As you spy on Mars from our dusty orb, you can imagine the little craft speeding its way to the red planet while we wait, temporarily stranded here on earth. Some day, maybe one of us will be speeding our way to Mars. Now that will be a spectacular close approach!
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Time Flies
10/16/05 – 10/22/05
By C. Zaitz
The Romans had a saying, “Tempus Fugit.” Even the ancients had the feeling of time flying. On the other hand, October has 31 days, and February only 28; so why does February feel twice as long as October? “Tempus Crawlus” in February, apparently. Did Einstein have a theory on that? “Winter Blues Relativity?” On a day to day basis, we tend to think of time as a chunk of something, be it small or big. “Wait a second.” “Give me a minute.” “I’ll be there in three shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
Time is an arbitrary measurement. Do you know how we measure a second? It’s kind of like watching a lamb’s tail shaking. Here’s a home recipe for an atomic clock: take a cesium 133 atom, heat it up, pass it through a magnetic field, then a microwave field, then let it get hit with just the right amount of energy so it transitions into another state and “rings” 9,192,631,770 times a second. Every time it oscillates 9,192,631,770 times, another second has gone by. I’ve written that number twice because it fascinates me. That’s nine billion, one hundred ninety two million, etc. It seems so arbitrary, like the speed of light. I met a man once who had memorized that number. He’s actually an astronomer/author who’s books you can find in the chain book stores. And he can spout, at any given cocktail party, the number of oscillations a cesium 133 atom needs before it transitions. I don’t know why he can, but I do remember being impressed. OK- which is nerdier, memorizing that number, or being impressed at someone who memorized that number?
Cesium atom clocks tell time accurately. They are precise to about a billionth of a second each day. That means that our current atomic clocks will stay accurate for about six million years. Time keeping hasn’t always been that accurate. We’ve used dripping water, sand, weights on strings, quartz, and now cesium 133 atoms. But some say the cesium clock isn’t good enough. They talk about a mercury ion clock whose accuracy is astounding. If such a clock had started “ticking” at the Big Bang, by now, some 13 billion years later, it would be about two seconds off. I guess it would be great if you really didn’t want to be late. Ever. I’m not sure how to strap such a contraption to your wrist, however.
So time flies, whether we mark it accurately or not. But the easiest way to stop time from flying is to look up into the night sky. No matter what you see, you will always be looking back in time. When the light from Mars finally reaches your eyes, it will have traveled for about four minutes. So you are seeing Mars as it looked four minutes ago. That’s not so impressive until you look at a star like Polaris, which lies some 430 light years away. The North Star’s light has been traveling since the year 1575. That’s some old light!
When night falls and the little hand is on 9 and the big hand is on 6, you can go outside and look for Mars. Saturn rises after 2am, and will glow brightly in the pre-dawn eastern sky.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
The Romans had a saying, “Tempus Fugit.” Even the ancients had the feeling of time flying. On the other hand, October has 31 days, and February only 28; so why does February feel twice as long as October? “Tempus Crawlus” in February, apparently. Did Einstein have a theory on that? “Winter Blues Relativity?” On a day to day basis, we tend to think of time as a chunk of something, be it small or big. “Wait a second.” “Give me a minute.” “I’ll be there in three shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
Time is an arbitrary measurement. Do you know how we measure a second? It’s kind of like watching a lamb’s tail shaking. Here’s a home recipe for an atomic clock: take a cesium 133 atom, heat it up, pass it through a magnetic field, then a microwave field, then let it get hit with just the right amount of energy so it transitions into another state and “rings” 9,192,631,770 times a second. Every time it oscillates 9,192,631,770 times, another second has gone by. I’ve written that number twice because it fascinates me. That’s nine billion, one hundred ninety two million, etc. It seems so arbitrary, like the speed of light. I met a man once who had memorized that number. He’s actually an astronomer/author who’s books you can find in the chain book stores. And he can spout, at any given cocktail party, the number of oscillations a cesium 133 atom needs before it transitions. I don’t know why he can, but I do remember being impressed. OK- which is nerdier, memorizing that number, or being impressed at someone who memorized that number?
Cesium atom clocks tell time accurately. They are precise to about a billionth of a second each day. That means that our current atomic clocks will stay accurate for about six million years. Time keeping hasn’t always been that accurate. We’ve used dripping water, sand, weights on strings, quartz, and now cesium 133 atoms. But some say the cesium clock isn’t good enough. They talk about a mercury ion clock whose accuracy is astounding. If such a clock had started “ticking” at the Big Bang, by now, some 13 billion years later, it would be about two seconds off. I guess it would be great if you really didn’t want to be late. Ever. I’m not sure how to strap such a contraption to your wrist, however.
So time flies, whether we mark it accurately or not. But the easiest way to stop time from flying is to look up into the night sky. No matter what you see, you will always be looking back in time. When the light from Mars finally reaches your eyes, it will have traveled for about four minutes. So you are seeing Mars as it looked four minutes ago. That’s not so impressive until you look at a star like Polaris, which lies some 430 light years away. The North Star’s light has been traveling since the year 1575. That’s some old light!
When night falls and the little hand is on 9 and the big hand is on 6, you can go outside and look for Mars. Saturn rises after 2am, and will glow brightly in the pre-dawn eastern sky.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Mars
10/9/05 – 10/15/05
By C. Zaitz
I’ve been getting calls about the pale peach object in the sky in the late evening and early morning hours. It is the planet Mars. Since Venus always steals the attention, I thought I’d devote some words to her powerful “friend” Mars.
I’m speaking of the Roman god and goddess now. Venus and Mars were indeed intimate “friends” though Venus was married to Vulcan, the course and ugly metal smith. Mars was the Roman god of war, adopted from the Greek Ares, though while Ares was often feared and hated in Greek society, Mars represented ultimate warrior-like qualities and was respected by the Romans. Venus and Mars carried on a long term affair, much to the chagrin and anger of Vulcan.
Mars was said to ride in a chariot with goddess of war Bellona, his wife. He had a retinue of followers, including Phobos and Deimos, known as “fear” and “terror.” These names were given to the two moons of Mars, the planet. These moons are so small they are not even round; instead they are shaped like baked potatoes. But they are faithful companions to the planet of the god of war. Lore has it that the ruddy reddish color of the planet Mars gave rise to its being named for the god of war and bloody conflict. In the sky, shining down from above, I often think of the color of Mars to be similar to the color of orange sherbet mixed with vanilla ice cream. I don’t think they had sherbet back in Roman times, so I guess it could also be construed as a bloody color.
Each year in Roman times Mars was celebrated once in October, and once in March, which was the month named after Mars (Martius). Mars was actually quite a powerful god, and was the father of Romulus and Remus. Romulus went on to found the city of Rome, which eventually became the great Roman Empire.
Sometimes I think of the irony of both Venus and Mars. The goddess of love and beauty’s namesake planet has nothing to do with either love or beauty; it’s hot, nasty and smelly. When I look at Mars in the early morning hours, I think of a quiet, cold, isolated planet, with a weak atmosphere and a couple of alien robotic “bugs” crawling over its isolated surface. Very unlike the fiery-tempered volatile god of Roman legend. I highly recommend you catching a glimpse of the pale peach planet in the early morning sky. You’ll notice it easily in a cloudless sky.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
I’ve been getting calls about the pale peach object in the sky in the late evening and early morning hours. It is the planet Mars. Since Venus always steals the attention, I thought I’d devote some words to her powerful “friend” Mars.
I’m speaking of the Roman god and goddess now. Venus and Mars were indeed intimate “friends” though Venus was married to Vulcan, the course and ugly metal smith. Mars was the Roman god of war, adopted from the Greek Ares, though while Ares was often feared and hated in Greek society, Mars represented ultimate warrior-like qualities and was respected by the Romans. Venus and Mars carried on a long term affair, much to the chagrin and anger of Vulcan.
Mars was said to ride in a chariot with goddess of war Bellona, his wife. He had a retinue of followers, including Phobos and Deimos, known as “fear” and “terror.” These names were given to the two moons of Mars, the planet. These moons are so small they are not even round; instead they are shaped like baked potatoes. But they are faithful companions to the planet of the god of war. Lore has it that the ruddy reddish color of the planet Mars gave rise to its being named for the god of war and bloody conflict. In the sky, shining down from above, I often think of the color of Mars to be similar to the color of orange sherbet mixed with vanilla ice cream. I don’t think they had sherbet back in Roman times, so I guess it could also be construed as a bloody color.
Each year in Roman times Mars was celebrated once in October, and once in March, which was the month named after Mars (Martius). Mars was actually quite a powerful god, and was the father of Romulus and Remus. Romulus went on to found the city of Rome, which eventually became the great Roman Empire.
Sometimes I think of the irony of both Venus and Mars. The goddess of love and beauty’s namesake planet has nothing to do with either love or beauty; it’s hot, nasty and smelly. When I look at Mars in the early morning hours, I think of a quiet, cold, isolated planet, with a weak atmosphere and a couple of alien robotic “bugs” crawling over its isolated surface. Very unlike the fiery-tempered volatile god of Roman legend. I highly recommend you catching a glimpse of the pale peach planet in the early morning sky. You’ll notice it easily in a cloudless sky.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Perseus and Andromeda
10/2/05 – 10/8/05
By C. Zaitz
One of my favorite constellation stories is the tale of Andromeda and Perseus. It is the story of the hero Perseus and his dashing rescue of Princess Andromeda. All the characters in this story are found as constellations in the Fall sky.
Cassiopeia was a vain and outspoken queen of Ethopia. One day she boasted that she was more beautiful than the Nereids, the immortal daughters of Poseidon, god of the sea. Poseidon caught wind of this boast and promptly sent a sea monster to harass and destroy the land of Ethiopia. Cassiopeia was distraught. She went to Poseidon to beg his forgiveness, but Poseidon merely offered her a choice- either she would be punished, or her daughter Andromeda.
Cassiopeia chose the latter. Thus Andromeda was dragged to the cliffs by the sea to be chained to a rock and left to the whims of the sea monster. Alas poor Andromeda!
Meanwhile, our hero Perseus had been sent to kill the Medusa, a woman who had snakes for hair and who could turn you to stone with a glance. He was armed with a helmet that made him invisible, a pair of sandals sporting wings borrowed from Hermes, a sharp sword and a shield polished like a mirror. Thus armed, he set off to find the Medusa.
Perseus found her in her dark, dank lair. Using his shield as a mirror to avoid being turned to stone, he called out to her, “MEDUSA! I’m here to kill you!” (I paraphrase.) Medusa came to the edge of the cave and peered into the mist- she saw no one. Perseus repeated his threat. The agitated Medusa took three steps from the mouth of the cave. Perseus was waiting; he snuck up behind her and brought his mighty sword down upon her. Her head went one way, her body the other, and thus was the demise of Medusa. From her blood came the white, winged horse Pegasus. Some say that Pegasus was Medusa’s pure spirit being released from her body.
Perseus put the head of Medusa in his sack and rode Pegasus back to his homeland of Greece. While flying over Ethiopia, he looked down and saw a tiny white figure being tossed by wind and waves. He heard a lonesome cry and saw that it was a beautiful young woman. Immediately he landed on the beach and ran to Andromeda to release her from her chains. But no sooner had begun to ask Andromeda how she came to be in her predicament, than the sea monster rose up from the waves with his jaws gaping open, ready to devour them both. Perseus saw the monster and knew he had to use his head- the Medusa’s head. He pulled it out of his sack, warned Andromeda not to gaze at it, and swung it around to the monster. The sea monster took one look, turned to stone, and sank to the bottom of the sea. Andromeda gratefully agreed to marry Perseus and they flew off on Pegasus back to their happy ending in Greece.
Many years later they were put into the sky as constellations. You can see all the characters in the sky tonight. Come visit the Ensign Planetarium on October 12th at 7pm to find them.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
One of my favorite constellation stories is the tale of Andromeda and Perseus. It is the story of the hero Perseus and his dashing rescue of Princess Andromeda. All the characters in this story are found as constellations in the Fall sky.
Cassiopeia was a vain and outspoken queen of Ethopia. One day she boasted that she was more beautiful than the Nereids, the immortal daughters of Poseidon, god of the sea. Poseidon caught wind of this boast and promptly sent a sea monster to harass and destroy the land of Ethiopia. Cassiopeia was distraught. She went to Poseidon to beg his forgiveness, but Poseidon merely offered her a choice- either she would be punished, or her daughter Andromeda.
Cassiopeia chose the latter. Thus Andromeda was dragged to the cliffs by the sea to be chained to a rock and left to the whims of the sea monster. Alas poor Andromeda!
Meanwhile, our hero Perseus had been sent to kill the Medusa, a woman who had snakes for hair and who could turn you to stone with a glance. He was armed with a helmet that made him invisible, a pair of sandals sporting wings borrowed from Hermes, a sharp sword and a shield polished like a mirror. Thus armed, he set off to find the Medusa.
Perseus found her in her dark, dank lair. Using his shield as a mirror to avoid being turned to stone, he called out to her, “MEDUSA! I’m here to kill you!” (I paraphrase.) Medusa came to the edge of the cave and peered into the mist- she saw no one. Perseus repeated his threat. The agitated Medusa took three steps from the mouth of the cave. Perseus was waiting; he snuck up behind her and brought his mighty sword down upon her. Her head went one way, her body the other, and thus was the demise of Medusa. From her blood came the white, winged horse Pegasus. Some say that Pegasus was Medusa’s pure spirit being released from her body.
Perseus put the head of Medusa in his sack and rode Pegasus back to his homeland of Greece. While flying over Ethiopia, he looked down and saw a tiny white figure being tossed by wind and waves. He heard a lonesome cry and saw that it was a beautiful young woman. Immediately he landed on the beach and ran to Andromeda to release her from her chains. But no sooner had begun to ask Andromeda how she came to be in her predicament, than the sea monster rose up from the waves with his jaws gaping open, ready to devour them both. Perseus saw the monster and knew he had to use his head- the Medusa’s head. He pulled it out of his sack, warned Andromeda not to gaze at it, and swung it around to the monster. The sea monster took one look, turned to stone, and sank to the bottom of the sea. Andromeda gratefully agreed to marry Perseus and they flew off on Pegasus back to their happy ending in Greece.
Many years later they were put into the sky as constellations. You can see all the characters in the sky tonight. Come visit the Ensign Planetarium on October 12th at 7pm to find them.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Venus
9/25/05 – 10/1/05
By C. Zaitz
Beautiful sister
Goddess of Love and Beauty
Twilight is her throne
Hotter than Hades
Sulfuric acid rains down
First breath is your last
If Haiku isn’t your thing, then let’s talk in prose. Venus can be seen tonight glowing among the colors of the sunset. She’s the brightest thing in the west after the sun goes down. She really does look beautiful from a distance. She’s even more beautiful through a telescope or binoculars: she will show some of her curves. You might be surprised, but sometimes Venus will appear like a tiny half moon through binoculars. She orbits closer to the sun than the earth does, so we see part of her lit side, and part of her unlit side. In a month you will see her in her crescent shape through binoculars and she will still be very bright, though most of her dark side is facing us at that point. You can thank her thick, shiny clouds for her brilliancy. They reflect a lot of sunlight, but they also give earth’s twin sister a darker side.
Venus is slightly smaller than earth. She has most of the same elements found on the earth- oxygen, carbon dioxide, nitrogen in the atmosphere- and she has a metallic iron core and a rocky mantle. However, 96% of her air is carbon dioxide, which is very different from earth. Carbon dioxide is considered a “greenhouse effect” gas because it tends to be transparent to visible light, but it soaks up infrared or “heat” energy very well. Sunlight can come streaming through the air, but when it hits the ground, it becomes heat. Earthlings rely on some of the heat escaping back into space to keep us cool. Greenhouse gases prevent that from happening, and that is why Venus is so very hot. Venus can reach a temperature of 900 degrees Fahrenheit on the surface. That’s twice as hot as a pizza oven. Air on Venus weighs ninety times more than earth’s air. The sulfur in the air mixes with the other gases and becomes sulfuric acid, which promptly rains down to the surface. Robotic probes sent to this alien world can’t withstand the pressures and heat, so we don’t even think about going there in person.
Luckily most of earth’s carbon dioxide is bound in the rocks and oceans of earth, not in the air like Venus. However, we are releasing vast amounts of carbon dioxide into our air by burning fossil fuels. While politicians debate about the possible effects of this, gigantic rafts of ice are breaking off the polar caps and floating away to melt in the oceans. All planets change, but we are the only one with inhabitants who care about these changes. We need only look up in the sunset at beautiful, hot, shiny and suffocating Venus to remind us how things can go badly for a planet.
Venus appears beautiful in the sky, but once you get to know her, she turns ugly. That’s what makes her so interesting and inspiring. If you’re feeling creative, email me your Venus Haiku and I’ll post it! Remember: the first line has five syllables, second has seven, and the last has five. It doesn’t have to rhyme.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
Beautiful sister
Goddess of Love and Beauty
Twilight is her throne
Hotter than Hades
Sulfuric acid rains down
First breath is your last
If Haiku isn’t your thing, then let’s talk in prose. Venus can be seen tonight glowing among the colors of the sunset. She’s the brightest thing in the west after the sun goes down. She really does look beautiful from a distance. She’s even more beautiful through a telescope or binoculars: she will show some of her curves. You might be surprised, but sometimes Venus will appear like a tiny half moon through binoculars. She orbits closer to the sun than the earth does, so we see part of her lit side, and part of her unlit side. In a month you will see her in her crescent shape through binoculars and she will still be very bright, though most of her dark side is facing us at that point. You can thank her thick, shiny clouds for her brilliancy. They reflect a lot of sunlight, but they also give earth’s twin sister a darker side.
Venus is slightly smaller than earth. She has most of the same elements found on the earth- oxygen, carbon dioxide, nitrogen in the atmosphere- and she has a metallic iron core and a rocky mantle. However, 96% of her air is carbon dioxide, which is very different from earth. Carbon dioxide is considered a “greenhouse effect” gas because it tends to be transparent to visible light, but it soaks up infrared or “heat” energy very well. Sunlight can come streaming through the air, but when it hits the ground, it becomes heat. Earthlings rely on some of the heat escaping back into space to keep us cool. Greenhouse gases prevent that from happening, and that is why Venus is so very hot. Venus can reach a temperature of 900 degrees Fahrenheit on the surface. That’s twice as hot as a pizza oven. Air on Venus weighs ninety times more than earth’s air. The sulfur in the air mixes with the other gases and becomes sulfuric acid, which promptly rains down to the surface. Robotic probes sent to this alien world can’t withstand the pressures and heat, so we don’t even think about going there in person.
Luckily most of earth’s carbon dioxide is bound in the rocks and oceans of earth, not in the air like Venus. However, we are releasing vast amounts of carbon dioxide into our air by burning fossil fuels. While politicians debate about the possible effects of this, gigantic rafts of ice are breaking off the polar caps and floating away to melt in the oceans. All planets change, but we are the only one with inhabitants who care about these changes. We need only look up in the sunset at beautiful, hot, shiny and suffocating Venus to remind us how things can go badly for a planet.
Venus appears beautiful in the sky, but once you get to know her, she turns ugly. That’s what makes her so interesting and inspiring. If you’re feeling creative, email me your Venus Haiku and I’ll post it! Remember: the first line has five syllables, second has seven, and the last has five. It doesn’t have to rhyme.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Spiderwebs and Gravity
9/18/05 – 9/24/05
By C. Zaitz
I was sitting in my backyard recently enjoying the cooler breezes of the evening. I had a book in my lap and something the shade of an eggplant in my glass. I had been staring at the corner of my house, lost in thought, when suddenly I noticed a tiny flash of light. I focused my eyes and beheld a spacious, ragged, intricate spider web blowing in the breeze. It had a large hole in it, but it had been carefully and broadly anchored to the corner of the siding. The flash had come from sunlight striking and illuminating it. That is why I hadn’t noticed it before; the sun was just now in the right position to reflect off the east-west oriented web.
I remembered how, when I was younger, I had plowed through an elaborate and sticky web while out walking. I thought about the fact that though the web was meant to catch insects this web had caught me instead. I had to stop and pick it off my legs. It had also caught my imagination, because I went home and wrote a little poem about how the spider web had caught me. But now my house web had also caught the sun. Though the web was ripped, it was able to contain the energy of the sun and “bend” it around the corner of the house so it could reach my eyes. This happens all the time - light from the sun bounces off the air and objects around us and lights up our days. Somehow it seemed magical that the fragile web held the sun and my imagination at the same time.
Earlier that day I had been talking to fifth graders about the sun, moon and earth. I answered their bottomless questions about what would happen if the sun exploded. (It won’t, fifth graders!) I explained that the moon orbits the earth all the while the earth orbits the sun and all three were spinning. Add in the other planets and all their moons, rings, and the flurry of asteroids and comets all spinning and orbiting. The fifth graders agreed that the solar system is an intricate dance of movement and the web holding it in place is gravity. The sun’s gravity keeps planets spinning and orbiting and keeps people from falling off them. In books, a gravity field is drawn like a web, bulging where there is a planet or star. It’s all very elaborate, sturdy, and spacious, just like the spider web glowing in the sunset. It catches all of us in its web physically, and for the moment it takes to read this and think about it, it catches our minds as well.
Venus and Jupiter are lost in the sun’s glow. Mars waits until dark before he arrives from the east. September 22 brings the autumn equinox, the first official day of fall, and one of two days a year when the day and night are both twelve hours long. From now on, the northern axis of the earth will be tilted away from the sun, the days will get shorter, and Michigan will slide into winter with the rest of our hemisphere. It’s time for butterflies and Canada geese to flee. On the up side, longer nights mean more stargazing.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
I was sitting in my backyard recently enjoying the cooler breezes of the evening. I had a book in my lap and something the shade of an eggplant in my glass. I had been staring at the corner of my house, lost in thought, when suddenly I noticed a tiny flash of light. I focused my eyes and beheld a spacious, ragged, intricate spider web blowing in the breeze. It had a large hole in it, but it had been carefully and broadly anchored to the corner of the siding. The flash had come from sunlight striking and illuminating it. That is why I hadn’t noticed it before; the sun was just now in the right position to reflect off the east-west oriented web.
I remembered how, when I was younger, I had plowed through an elaborate and sticky web while out walking. I thought about the fact that though the web was meant to catch insects this web had caught me instead. I had to stop and pick it off my legs. It had also caught my imagination, because I went home and wrote a little poem about how the spider web had caught me. But now my house web had also caught the sun. Though the web was ripped, it was able to contain the energy of the sun and “bend” it around the corner of the house so it could reach my eyes. This happens all the time - light from the sun bounces off the air and objects around us and lights up our days. Somehow it seemed magical that the fragile web held the sun and my imagination at the same time.
Earlier that day I had been talking to fifth graders about the sun, moon and earth. I answered their bottomless questions about what would happen if the sun exploded. (It won’t, fifth graders!) I explained that the moon orbits the earth all the while the earth orbits the sun and all three were spinning. Add in the other planets and all their moons, rings, and the flurry of asteroids and comets all spinning and orbiting. The fifth graders agreed that the solar system is an intricate dance of movement and the web holding it in place is gravity. The sun’s gravity keeps planets spinning and orbiting and keeps people from falling off them. In books, a gravity field is drawn like a web, bulging where there is a planet or star. It’s all very elaborate, sturdy, and spacious, just like the spider web glowing in the sunset. It catches all of us in its web physically, and for the moment it takes to read this and think about it, it catches our minds as well.
Venus and Jupiter are lost in the sun’s glow. Mars waits until dark before he arrives from the east. September 22 brings the autumn equinox, the first official day of fall, and one of two days a year when the day and night are both twelve hours long. From now on, the northern axis of the earth will be tilted away from the sun, the days will get shorter, and Michigan will slide into winter with the rest of our hemisphere. It’s time for butterflies and Canada geese to flee. On the up side, longer nights mean more stargazing.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Living in Space
9/11/05 – 9/17/05
By C. Zaitz
The radio alarm goes off- it’s 6am and time to get up. A faint glow from the sun is just beginning to tickle your eyelids. You try to roll over but you realize…you are floating. Within minutes the whole room is bathed in light. You still feel like rolling over, so you mimic the effect by moving the small pillow strapped to your head from the left to the right. Just five more minutes, hit the snooze…but the sunlight is relentless. Rather than wait forty five minutes for it to go down again, you unzip your sleeping bag, release the restraints, and begin to fly toward the vacuum canister you call the bathroom. Slow and steady, you move hand over hand, feet dangling behind, through the narrow passages. Your personal speed limit is proportional to how hard you want to hit your head on protruding objects. Thus begins your new day aboard the International Space Station.
Currently there are two men aboard Space Station Freedom, but they are coming home soon. John and Sergei have been in weightlessness since April and are coming back to earth in October on a Russian Soyuz spacecraft. They will leave William and Valery behind to run things on board the station. This exchange of astronauts every six months or so has been going on since October of 2000 with the arrival of Expedition 1. Coincidently, Sergei Krikalev, the Flight Engineer on this first expedition, is the same Sergei of Expedition 11, the crew which is now aboard the Space Station. He must like it up there.
Besides living in microgravity, the astronauts also experience very short days and nights; they circle the earth every ninety minutes. Thankfully they keep time with the Earth and get eight hours of sleep, regardless of the sun streaming through their window. During the day they can see the earth from above. The Station’s orbit sometimes brings it within our view, and that’s when we can see the Station from below.
If you’d like to see the International Space Station, here are your best bets. On Tuesday, September 13 at 9:10 pm, look toward the northwest, about thirty three degrees above the horizon. The station should be visible for about one minute. On Wednesday, September 14 at 9:36 pm, it will be seen in the northwest about forty two degrees above the horizon, visible for less than a minute. On Thursday, September 15 at 8:25 pm, from the northwest to the east, it will be visible for three minutes about thirty degrees above the horizon. The best day is Friday, September 16 at 8:52 pm. For about two minutes the space station will fly from the northwest to the southeast, reaching a height of seventy eight degrees above the horizon, almost overhead. It will look like a bright star or planet moving steadily across the sky. If you have binoculars and a steady hand, you can get a closer glimpse of the Station.
While out waiting for the Space Station, be sure to see the planets – Jupiter and Venus still in the west, and Mars now showing up in the eastern sky a while after sunset. On the evening of the 17th the full moon will rise at sunset. This moon has been called the Harvest Moon in folklore.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
The radio alarm goes off- it’s 6am and time to get up. A faint glow from the sun is just beginning to tickle your eyelids. You try to roll over but you realize…you are floating. Within minutes the whole room is bathed in light. You still feel like rolling over, so you mimic the effect by moving the small pillow strapped to your head from the left to the right. Just five more minutes, hit the snooze…but the sunlight is relentless. Rather than wait forty five minutes for it to go down again, you unzip your sleeping bag, release the restraints, and begin to fly toward the vacuum canister you call the bathroom. Slow and steady, you move hand over hand, feet dangling behind, through the narrow passages. Your personal speed limit is proportional to how hard you want to hit your head on protruding objects. Thus begins your new day aboard the International Space Station.
Currently there are two men aboard Space Station Freedom, but they are coming home soon. John and Sergei have been in weightlessness since April and are coming back to earth in October on a Russian Soyuz spacecraft. They will leave William and Valery behind to run things on board the station. This exchange of astronauts every six months or so has been going on since October of 2000 with the arrival of Expedition 1. Coincidently, Sergei Krikalev, the Flight Engineer on this first expedition, is the same Sergei of Expedition 11, the crew which is now aboard the Space Station. He must like it up there.
Besides living in microgravity, the astronauts also experience very short days and nights; they circle the earth every ninety minutes. Thankfully they keep time with the Earth and get eight hours of sleep, regardless of the sun streaming through their window. During the day they can see the earth from above. The Station’s orbit sometimes brings it within our view, and that’s when we can see the Station from below.
If you’d like to see the International Space Station, here are your best bets. On Tuesday, September 13 at 9:10 pm, look toward the northwest, about thirty three degrees above the horizon. The station should be visible for about one minute. On Wednesday, September 14 at 9:36 pm, it will be seen in the northwest about forty two degrees above the horizon, visible for less than a minute. On Thursday, September 15 at 8:25 pm, from the northwest to the east, it will be visible for three minutes about thirty degrees above the horizon. The best day is Friday, September 16 at 8:52 pm. For about two minutes the space station will fly from the northwest to the southeast, reaching a height of seventy eight degrees above the horizon, almost overhead. It will look like a bright star or planet moving steadily across the sky. If you have binoculars and a steady hand, you can get a closer glimpse of the Station.
While out waiting for the Space Station, be sure to see the planets – Jupiter and Venus still in the west, and Mars now showing up in the eastern sky a while after sunset. On the evening of the 17th the full moon will rise at sunset. This moon has been called the Harvest Moon in folklore.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
The Center of It All
9/4/05 – 9/10/05
By C. Zaitz
For many years, astronomers have been trying to glimpse the center of the Milky Way Galaxy. Regular optical telescopes won’t work- the dust and gas in the space blocks our view. We can only peer about a thousand light years into our galaxy before the view is obscured. The center is much farther, about 30 thousand light years beyond.
How then can we ever get a true picture of what lies at the center? We must use other types of telescopes that see in wavelengths beyond the limits of the human eye, wavelengths the size of an atom or less; x-rays and gamma rays. The earth’s air absorbs these waves, so in order to detect them we have to send telescopes above the air.
When we look for gamma rays and x-rays, we see the galactic center region aglow. X-rays are generated from the interaction of two stars orbiting each other, or should we say “former” stars. In these binary systems, one star has evolved into a black hole, and the other is being cannibalized by the black hole. As the black hole rips gas from the remaining star and swallows it, powerful x-rays are emitted and our telescopes can make an image.
Gamma rays, on the other hand, come from the annihilation of matter and antimatter. It does happen in nature, not just on Star Trek. While astronomers have not said exactly where the antimatter comes from, they use terms like, “violent and exotic environments” and “star birth, neutron star collisions, and black holes at the Galactic Center.” Neutron star collisions - now that sounds exciting! Both x-rays and gamma rays give us images of a very crowded, rather violent region of space.
So what does our picture of the galactic center look like? If we lived on a planet around a star in the middle of our galaxy, we would have a very different night sky. Our skies would be filled with hundreds of bright stars, some moving at speeds that we could actually detect. Imagine having constellation patterns change drastically over the course of your lifetime. There is a good chance that we might witness the greatest release of energy the modern Universe has; the explosion of a star. Though the sight might be glorious, we’d better be ready to flee to avoid the outward rush of killing radiation that follows the blast. With all the x-rays and gamma rays being created by the death throes of stars and the eating habits of black holes, life on our planet would be rather dangerous, if not impossible. Especially if we were to get too close the center of it all. Astronomers are pretty convinced that there is a gargantuan black hole lying there, crouched, waiting for passing stars and gas clouds to come just close enough to…slurp! There goes our star, our planet, and our plans to paint the house next spring.
Luckily we are safe and sound on our earth, far from the center. We can look toward the constellation Sagittarius, low in the southern sky, and know that we are looking in toward the middle of the Milky Way. While we are pondering our fortuitous position in the galaxy, we should spy on the planets. On September 6th, Jupiter and Venus will be visited by the passing crescent moon. Look to the west at Sunset. Venus is the brighter of the two planets, and the moon will look like a lazy smile.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
For many years, astronomers have been trying to glimpse the center of the Milky Way Galaxy. Regular optical telescopes won’t work- the dust and gas in the space blocks our view. We can only peer about a thousand light years into our galaxy before the view is obscured. The center is much farther, about 30 thousand light years beyond.
How then can we ever get a true picture of what lies at the center? We must use other types of telescopes that see in wavelengths beyond the limits of the human eye, wavelengths the size of an atom or less; x-rays and gamma rays. The earth’s air absorbs these waves, so in order to detect them we have to send telescopes above the air.
When we look for gamma rays and x-rays, we see the galactic center region aglow. X-rays are generated from the interaction of two stars orbiting each other, or should we say “former” stars. In these binary systems, one star has evolved into a black hole, and the other is being cannibalized by the black hole. As the black hole rips gas from the remaining star and swallows it, powerful x-rays are emitted and our telescopes can make an image.
Gamma rays, on the other hand, come from the annihilation of matter and antimatter. It does happen in nature, not just on Star Trek. While astronomers have not said exactly where the antimatter comes from, they use terms like, “violent and exotic environments” and “star birth, neutron star collisions, and black holes at the Galactic Center.” Neutron star collisions - now that sounds exciting! Both x-rays and gamma rays give us images of a very crowded, rather violent region of space.
So what does our picture of the galactic center look like? If we lived on a planet around a star in the middle of our galaxy, we would have a very different night sky. Our skies would be filled with hundreds of bright stars, some moving at speeds that we could actually detect. Imagine having constellation patterns change drastically over the course of your lifetime. There is a good chance that we might witness the greatest release of energy the modern Universe has; the explosion of a star. Though the sight might be glorious, we’d better be ready to flee to avoid the outward rush of killing radiation that follows the blast. With all the x-rays and gamma rays being created by the death throes of stars and the eating habits of black holes, life on our planet would be rather dangerous, if not impossible. Especially if we were to get too close the center of it all. Astronomers are pretty convinced that there is a gargantuan black hole lying there, crouched, waiting for passing stars and gas clouds to come just close enough to…slurp! There goes our star, our planet, and our plans to paint the house next spring.
Luckily we are safe and sound on our earth, far from the center. We can look toward the constellation Sagittarius, low in the southern sky, and know that we are looking in toward the middle of the Milky Way. While we are pondering our fortuitous position in the galaxy, we should spy on the planets. On September 6th, Jupiter and Venus will be visited by the passing crescent moon. Look to the west at Sunset. Venus is the brighter of the two planets, and the moon will look like a lazy smile.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Where the Sun Sets
8/28/05 – 9/3/05
By C. Zaitz
Brains are funny things. When I look at the moon, my mind often flies into space and I imagine being on the moon looking back at earth. Does that ever happen to you? I can remember the first time I noticed my funny brain. My parents bought me a telescope when I was young, and my father and I went out one night and found the Andromeda Galaxy. This galaxy is over 2 million light years from us and can barely be seen by the naked eye. Through my small telescope it looked like a tiny oval smudge. It was the opposite of impressive, but my young mind was flabbergasted. My father told me that the little smudge was another, larger Milky Way, and that the Andromeda was one of an inconceivable number of other galaxies, like a snowflake in a blizzard. In my mind’s eye, I could imagine I was floating in the Andromeda Galaxy looking back and seeing the earth. I could even imagine the motions of all the planets and their moons, as if they were an orchestra playing and I was in the mezzanine watching.
Ever since, I’ve been able to see things as if I were in a celestial mezzanine. For example, most of us are noticing that the days are getting shorter. Some of us even notice that the sun is setting and rising in a different place compared to a month ago. But my brain translates these facts into a view of the earth traveling around the sun, tipped at a 23.5 degree angle, spinning all the while, as if I were some space-dust breathing creature lurking at the outer edges of the solar system, spying on the distant earth. I see the tipped earth and I notice that it is heading to the neutral zone- the place in its orbit where neither the northern nor the southern half of the earth is leaning toward the sun- the Autumn Equinox. It is the time of year when the days and nights are equal in length and the sun will rise due east and set due west. There are only two days of the year when this happens; the other is the Spring Equinox. It is around these two days that you will notice the change in the length of daylight and position of sunrise/sunset the most.
What we see in our two-dimensional commute from work is the sun in our eyes, when last month it wasn’t. If your brain isn’t wired to flip into orbit at the least provocation, it’s easier to understand why the sunset is moving by using the Ensign Planetarium’s simulating equipment. You can watch the sun setting further to the south day after day as we speed up time and go into the future. You don’t need to come to the Planetarium to see these phenomena, but you are always welcome to visit us! Check out our website for the new Fall/Winter schedule. For a great explanation of dimensional thinking, go to this website: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/elegant/dimensions.html. Beware- you might end up thinking in 10-D!
If you’re watching the real sky, look for Mars as it rises before midnight and glows pale peach in the late evening. Don’t be fooled by the spurious emails going around the internet about Mars being as big as the full moon in August. Mars made its closest approach back in 2003, it will never appear as large as the full moon, but this year it will be as bright as it will get around Halloween. You can see it any clear night, however- it’s always worth a look. Maybe you will imagine yourself on Mars looking back at earth! I’m waving to you.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
Brains are funny things. When I look at the moon, my mind often flies into space and I imagine being on the moon looking back at earth. Does that ever happen to you? I can remember the first time I noticed my funny brain. My parents bought me a telescope when I was young, and my father and I went out one night and found the Andromeda Galaxy. This galaxy is over 2 million light years from us and can barely be seen by the naked eye. Through my small telescope it looked like a tiny oval smudge. It was the opposite of impressive, but my young mind was flabbergasted. My father told me that the little smudge was another, larger Milky Way, and that the Andromeda was one of an inconceivable number of other galaxies, like a snowflake in a blizzard. In my mind’s eye, I could imagine I was floating in the Andromeda Galaxy looking back and seeing the earth. I could even imagine the motions of all the planets and their moons, as if they were an orchestra playing and I was in the mezzanine watching.
Ever since, I’ve been able to see things as if I were in a celestial mezzanine. For example, most of us are noticing that the days are getting shorter. Some of us even notice that the sun is setting and rising in a different place compared to a month ago. But my brain translates these facts into a view of the earth traveling around the sun, tipped at a 23.5 degree angle, spinning all the while, as if I were some space-dust breathing creature lurking at the outer edges of the solar system, spying on the distant earth. I see the tipped earth and I notice that it is heading to the neutral zone- the place in its orbit where neither the northern nor the southern half of the earth is leaning toward the sun- the Autumn Equinox. It is the time of year when the days and nights are equal in length and the sun will rise due east and set due west. There are only two days of the year when this happens; the other is the Spring Equinox. It is around these two days that you will notice the change in the length of daylight and position of sunrise/sunset the most.
What we see in our two-dimensional commute from work is the sun in our eyes, when last month it wasn’t. If your brain isn’t wired to flip into orbit at the least provocation, it’s easier to understand why the sunset is moving by using the Ensign Planetarium’s simulating equipment. You can watch the sun setting further to the south day after day as we speed up time and go into the future. You don’t need to come to the Planetarium to see these phenomena, but you are always welcome to visit us! Check out our website for the new Fall/Winter schedule. For a great explanation of dimensional thinking, go to this website: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/elegant/dimensions.html. Beware- you might end up thinking in 10-D!
If you’re watching the real sky, look for Mars as it rises before midnight and glows pale peach in the late evening. Don’t be fooled by the spurious emails going around the internet about Mars being as big as the full moon in August. Mars made its closest approach back in 2003, it will never appear as large as the full moon, but this year it will be as bright as it will get around Halloween. You can see it any clear night, however- it’s always worth a look. Maybe you will imagine yourself on Mars looking back at earth! I’m waving to you.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Back To School
8/21/05 – 8/27/05
By C. Zaitz
We’ve turned it into a national institution. Advertisers have us dancing to the beat of the Back to School rap. Even folks who have no school-aged kids get caught up in the excitement of the coming fall and the change of pace. We’re beginning to notice the sluggish sun rising a bit later each morning, and daylight wanes bit by bit with the passing days. Some of us look forward to the coming season, but the kids I had in the planetarium recently groaned on cue when I mentioned the s-word (school). It seems that school cuts into a kid’s summer fun! I seized the moment to remind them that school could be fun and exciting, and that their experience would be shaped by their attitudes. Then I remembered how I had groused the night before about my college classes and about how my evenings would be eaten up by school. Thus ended my soliloquy. But I adjusted my own attitude and remembered all the fun and exciting things I’d be learning, and how I would be able to see the stars on my way home.
I felt better – until I remembered that the sun is my favorite star and that I’d be seeing less and less of him. Luckily anyone who wants to can see the sun day or night on a great website: http://www.spaceweather.com. I go there daily to see the sun’s complexion. You’ll see what I mean- every day the sun looks different. Sometimes it is covered with black spots, and sometimes it’s fairly clear. Those black spots are sunspots or magnetic storms on the sun. The number of spots the sun has relates to its energy output and that effects the Earth. Just why the sun grows these spots is not entirely understood, but it’s only one of the many mysteries about the sun.
The website is also a great resource for information on the Aurorae, both Borealis and Australis. These are commonly known as the northern and southern lights. There isn’t any particular season for Aurorae, but we usually have about a day’s notice so we know when to look for them. Many Michiganders saw them last November and some saw a display in May.
In planetary news, Jupiter and Venus will be drawing nearer to each other all week long, and by Saturday the 27th they will be a mere 5 degrees apart. Unfortunately, they are both very near the horizon at sunset, so you’ll need both a great view of the western sky and patience to wait till it is dark enough to see them. The waning gibbous moon will not hinder your view of these two planets, but on the 25th it will be hanging above Mars in the morning sky. Perhaps the last quarter Moon will look like an ear with a precious ruby Mars dangling from its lobe. Mars will become more and more social as it moves into the evening sky this fall. He must be excited by the coming season too. Mars won’t have to go school clothes shopping, however. Rusty red is his color, and he refuses to change clothes. Sounds like a teenager?
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
We’ve turned it into a national institution. Advertisers have us dancing to the beat of the Back to School rap. Even folks who have no school-aged kids get caught up in the excitement of the coming fall and the change of pace. We’re beginning to notice the sluggish sun rising a bit later each morning, and daylight wanes bit by bit with the passing days. Some of us look forward to the coming season, but the kids I had in the planetarium recently groaned on cue when I mentioned the s-word (school). It seems that school cuts into a kid’s summer fun! I seized the moment to remind them that school could be fun and exciting, and that their experience would be shaped by their attitudes. Then I remembered how I had groused the night before about my college classes and about how my evenings would be eaten up by school. Thus ended my soliloquy. But I adjusted my own attitude and remembered all the fun and exciting things I’d be learning, and how I would be able to see the stars on my way home.
I felt better – until I remembered that the sun is my favorite star and that I’d be seeing less and less of him. Luckily anyone who wants to can see the sun day or night on a great website: http://www.spaceweather.com. I go there daily to see the sun’s complexion. You’ll see what I mean- every day the sun looks different. Sometimes it is covered with black spots, and sometimes it’s fairly clear. Those black spots are sunspots or magnetic storms on the sun. The number of spots the sun has relates to its energy output and that effects the Earth. Just why the sun grows these spots is not entirely understood, but it’s only one of the many mysteries about the sun.
The website is also a great resource for information on the Aurorae, both Borealis and Australis. These are commonly known as the northern and southern lights. There isn’t any particular season for Aurorae, but we usually have about a day’s notice so we know when to look for them. Many Michiganders saw them last November and some saw a display in May.
In planetary news, Jupiter and Venus will be drawing nearer to each other all week long, and by Saturday the 27th they will be a mere 5 degrees apart. Unfortunately, they are both very near the horizon at sunset, so you’ll need both a great view of the western sky and patience to wait till it is dark enough to see them. The waning gibbous moon will not hinder your view of these two planets, but on the 25th it will be hanging above Mars in the morning sky. Perhaps the last quarter Moon will look like an ear with a precious ruby Mars dangling from its lobe. Mars will become more and more social as it moves into the evening sky this fall. He must be excited by the coming season too. Mars won’t have to go school clothes shopping, however. Rusty red is his color, and he refuses to change clothes. Sounds like a teenager?
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Reunion
8/14/05 – 8/20/05
By C. Zaitz
Summer is the season for reunions. I recently went to my High School reunion in My Home Town, NY. Reunions make us think of the passing of time, and for me it was a time of introspection, of remembering. The prospect of facing all my old classmates was daunting. Would they look the same, just more wrinkles? Would anyone recognize me? In the midst of trying to recognize faces and names, I looked up and saw my old friends, Jupiter and Venus, hanging quietly in the western sky, reflecting their placid light on the gently rippled Erie Canal. Somehow I felt comforted and at home, though I no longer lived there and no longer knew these people. I thought of the planets, secure in their courses, orbiting year after year, consistent and reliable. The Solar System, the nine planets, moving like clockwork. Even though time had passed, people had changed, I had changed, the same nine planets circle the sun as they have since it all began. Then I returned home and found that we’d discovered another “planet” in my old, familiar Solar System.
I suppose it’s good news, or at least exciting news, but debate is underway about this new “planet” already. Should we take away the quotes and call it a real planet, or should we better define what a planet is? Some astronomers think Pluto is too small to be classified a planet. It is smaller than many moons in the Solar System, including ours. We’ve already discovered other small bodies beyond Pluto, like Sedna and Quaoar. They are considered “planetoids” because of their diminutive sizes, but this new discovery seems to be larger than Pluto, not smaller. How can we call it planetoid without addressing Pluto’s status? It is farther away than Pluto, within the realm of space we have designated The Kuiper Belt. Perhaps there are more such bodies out there. Scientists predict that there are. We could end up with a dozen or more planets in our Solar System!
We have to name the new discovery. Sedna was named for an Inuit sea goddess, and Quaoar was named after a creator deity of the Tongva people native to Los Angeles before European arrival. The International Astronomical Union has the responsibility of officially naming all heavenly bodies. (No one else has the authority, so save your money if you are tempted to buy a star – they aren’t selling them!) Most of the cool old Roman names are taken, not only by planets, but by the innumerable moons and asteroids within our Solar System. Names will be getting more creative, and therefore more obscure and unfamiliar.
Most of us will probably never see these newly discovered bodies. Has anyone ever seen Pluto? Even Neptune or Uranus? These distant objects require telescopes to view. Though we don’t see the planets often, it is somehow comforting to think of the Solar System we knew when we were in school. Adding new planets is jarring to the psyche, rather like seeing the changes in faces I hadn’t seen in many years. We have to make a new wrinkle in our brains for these new discoveries. It can be uncomfortable. But I’m looking forward to the new wrinkle! It’s inevitable, as I learned at the reunion. They aren’t going away- in fact, they’ve been there the whole time.
Meanwhile, there are some planets that you can easily see, no telescope required. Mars has been creeping into the evening sky, and now is approaching its best and brightest appearance in October. You will have to wait a little now to see it, since it doesn’t even rise until 10pm, but as Fall approaches, it will be rising earlier every night. Jupiter is still gleaming boldly in the west after sunset, and though Venus is still on stage, her brilliancy is overshadowed by the beautiful sunset in which she is cloaked.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
Summer is the season for reunions. I recently went to my High School reunion in My Home Town, NY. Reunions make us think of the passing of time, and for me it was a time of introspection, of remembering. The prospect of facing all my old classmates was daunting. Would they look the same, just more wrinkles? Would anyone recognize me? In the midst of trying to recognize faces and names, I looked up and saw my old friends, Jupiter and Venus, hanging quietly in the western sky, reflecting their placid light on the gently rippled Erie Canal. Somehow I felt comforted and at home, though I no longer lived there and no longer knew these people. I thought of the planets, secure in their courses, orbiting year after year, consistent and reliable. The Solar System, the nine planets, moving like clockwork. Even though time had passed, people had changed, I had changed, the same nine planets circle the sun as they have since it all began. Then I returned home and found that we’d discovered another “planet” in my old, familiar Solar System.
I suppose it’s good news, or at least exciting news, but debate is underway about this new “planet” already. Should we take away the quotes and call it a real planet, or should we better define what a planet is? Some astronomers think Pluto is too small to be classified a planet. It is smaller than many moons in the Solar System, including ours. We’ve already discovered other small bodies beyond Pluto, like Sedna and Quaoar. They are considered “planetoids” because of their diminutive sizes, but this new discovery seems to be larger than Pluto, not smaller. How can we call it planetoid without addressing Pluto’s status? It is farther away than Pluto, within the realm of space we have designated The Kuiper Belt. Perhaps there are more such bodies out there. Scientists predict that there are. We could end up with a dozen or more planets in our Solar System!
We have to name the new discovery. Sedna was named for an Inuit sea goddess, and Quaoar was named after a creator deity of the Tongva people native to Los Angeles before European arrival. The International Astronomical Union has the responsibility of officially naming all heavenly bodies. (No one else has the authority, so save your money if you are tempted to buy a star – they aren’t selling them!) Most of the cool old Roman names are taken, not only by planets, but by the innumerable moons and asteroids within our Solar System. Names will be getting more creative, and therefore more obscure and unfamiliar.
Most of us will probably never see these newly discovered bodies. Has anyone ever seen Pluto? Even Neptune or Uranus? These distant objects require telescopes to view. Though we don’t see the planets often, it is somehow comforting to think of the Solar System we knew when we were in school. Adding new planets is jarring to the psyche, rather like seeing the changes in faces I hadn’t seen in many years. We have to make a new wrinkle in our brains for these new discoveries. It can be uncomfortable. But I’m looking forward to the new wrinkle! It’s inevitable, as I learned at the reunion. They aren’t going away- in fact, they’ve been there the whole time.
Meanwhile, there are some planets that you can easily see, no telescope required. Mars has been creeping into the evening sky, and now is approaching its best and brightest appearance in October. You will have to wait a little now to see it, since it doesn’t even rise until 10pm, but as Fall approaches, it will be rising earlier every night. Jupiter is still gleaming boldly in the west after sunset, and though Venus is still on stage, her brilliancy is overshadowed by the beautiful sunset in which she is cloaked.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
The Sting: Part II The 13th Zodiac Constellation
8/7/05 – 8/13/05
By C. Zaitz
Last week we began the story of Orion and the Scorpion. We learned that the goddess of the earth Gaia had punished Orion for his boastful nature. She sent the lowly but deadly scorpion to sting Orion and stop him from boasting for all time. We left Orion stung by the Scorpion, helpless as the paralyzing potion began to make its way through Orion’s veins. But was there no one to help? Can no one save our great giant hunter? Enter, the 13th constellation of the zodiac, the healer known as Ophiuchus. (O-fee-YOU-cuss.)
Ophiuchus is a little known constellation. He never reached the fame of Orion or even the Scorpion, but he takes up a rather large chunk of the sky. The sun actually passes in front of the stars of Ophiuchus during the year, making the constellation one of the 13 of the zodiac. Astronomers know this, but Astrologers fail to account for this in their arts, so his popularity has suffered. None of the stars in Ophiuchus are very bright, however, and perhaps that is why his fame is limited. He stands firmly in the heavens just above the scorpion, holding a snake in his fists. Ophiuchus was known as a snake charmer and healer. Though he might have been known as Aesculapius the healer to the ancient Greeks, his snakes have found their way intertwined around a staff in the caduceus, the symbol of the medical profession to this day. It is said that Aesculapius was ancestor to the great healer Hippocrates, whose influence is still present in the Hippocratic oath.
In our story, Ophiuchus the healer arrived in time to save Orion. He gave him an antidote for the poison left by the scorpion’s sting. Then he crushed the scorpion under his heel so that he would sting no more. You can see Ophiuchus and the scorpion in the sky this summer. The scorpion is in the sky under the feet of Ophiuchus as if he were still grinding the scorpion into the ground. Astrologers call the constellation Scorpio, but in Astronomy the constellation is properly named Scorpius.
Do not expect to find Orion in the sky tonight. As Ophiuchus replays the killing of Scorpius night after night, Orion is below the horizon, already having been stung and chased from the sky by the scorpion. In the morning, the revived Orion rises just before the sun as Scorpius and Ophiuchus have set in the west. The story plays out night after night, and as the seasons move from summer to fall, Orion will rise earlier and the scorpion sets earlier until it is chased from the sky by the sun. But he will be back again next summer, and for the rest of the summers that come. So our story, as old as it is, will never end, until the very stars themselves burn out.
In other sky news, the Perseid meteor shower will peak on Thursday this week. The view won’t get good until the first quarter moon sets, a little before midnight. You need a nice dark sky to get the full effect of a pretty meteor shower, but the brightest of the “falling stars” can be seen even from the Metro Detroit light-polluted skies.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
Last week we began the story of Orion and the Scorpion. We learned that the goddess of the earth Gaia had punished Orion for his boastful nature. She sent the lowly but deadly scorpion to sting Orion and stop him from boasting for all time. We left Orion stung by the Scorpion, helpless as the paralyzing potion began to make its way through Orion’s veins. But was there no one to help? Can no one save our great giant hunter? Enter, the 13th constellation of the zodiac, the healer known as Ophiuchus. (O-fee-YOU-cuss.)
Ophiuchus is a little known constellation. He never reached the fame of Orion or even the Scorpion, but he takes up a rather large chunk of the sky. The sun actually passes in front of the stars of Ophiuchus during the year, making the constellation one of the 13 of the zodiac. Astronomers know this, but Astrologers fail to account for this in their arts, so his popularity has suffered. None of the stars in Ophiuchus are very bright, however, and perhaps that is why his fame is limited. He stands firmly in the heavens just above the scorpion, holding a snake in his fists. Ophiuchus was known as a snake charmer and healer. Though he might have been known as Aesculapius the healer to the ancient Greeks, his snakes have found their way intertwined around a staff in the caduceus, the symbol of the medical profession to this day. It is said that Aesculapius was ancestor to the great healer Hippocrates, whose influence is still present in the Hippocratic oath.
In our story, Ophiuchus the healer arrived in time to save Orion. He gave him an antidote for the poison left by the scorpion’s sting. Then he crushed the scorpion under his heel so that he would sting no more. You can see Ophiuchus and the scorpion in the sky this summer. The scorpion is in the sky under the feet of Ophiuchus as if he were still grinding the scorpion into the ground. Astrologers call the constellation Scorpio, but in Astronomy the constellation is properly named Scorpius.
Do not expect to find Orion in the sky tonight. As Ophiuchus replays the killing of Scorpius night after night, Orion is below the horizon, already having been stung and chased from the sky by the scorpion. In the morning, the revived Orion rises just before the sun as Scorpius and Ophiuchus have set in the west. The story plays out night after night, and as the seasons move from summer to fall, Orion will rise earlier and the scorpion sets earlier until it is chased from the sky by the sun. But he will be back again next summer, and for the rest of the summers that come. So our story, as old as it is, will never end, until the very stars themselves burn out.
In other sky news, the Perseid meteor shower will peak on Thursday this week. The view won’t get good until the first quarter moon sets, a little before midnight. You need a nice dark sky to get the full effect of a pretty meteor shower, but the brightest of the “falling stars” can be seen even from the Metro Detroit light-polluted skies.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
The Sting: Part I
7/31/05 – 8/6/05
By C. Zaitz
Summertime is a good time for telling stories. Some folks like to sit around campfires in the summer telling stories, as folks have been doing through history. But storytelling happens even without campfires. One story that has been in the news is the story of the return to orbit of the Space Shuttle Discovery. As I write this, Discovery has been successfully launched after a long and nerve wracking wait. I hope by the time you are reading this, the fresh fruits and vegetables will have been safely transferred to the Space Station and the astronauts will be healthy and enjoying their weightless environment.
The return of the Shuttle Discovery is current news, and a happy story after the sad story of the Columbia. But I want to tell you a different kind of story. An old story. One that is not based on science, but based on imagination and human experience. This is a story about Orion and the Scorpion. This story has come down to us from ancient times. Perhaps the story began in Greece, or as some suggest, maybe from the very early civilizations of Babylonia. Some scientists have even found what looks like the stars of Orion carved on ancient tusk over 35,000 years ago! It is a very old story, and one that has been told more than we can imagine. I will tell you the story of the Scorpion who stung Orion.
Some say Orion came from the ancient Babylonian mythology as Uru-anna, or Light of Heaven. It has been suggested that the Greeks kept the name for the mightiest hunter that walked the earth. Orion was a giant, and very skilled in the art of killing. In fact, he was so sure of his skill that he boasted he could kill any living thing on earth. The Goddess of the earth, Gaeia, was angered by this boast, for she was the caretaker of the earth and its inhabitants, including all the creatures that Orion killed. In revenge, Gaeia sent a scorpion to bite and kill Orion.
Now scorpions can’t be seen walking down the sidewalks in Michigan, but thanks to the nature programs on TV, we have most likely seen them on a show like, “The Planet’s Most Deadly Small and Easy to Step On Arachnids.” Scorpions have long, segmented tails that curl up at the end, with the deadly stinger at the very tip. Their sting can pack a wallop, though only a few types of scorpions are actually deadly. Some of the scorpions in Arizona have fatal stings, and the one Gaeia sent to sting Orion was one of these highly toxic scorpions. And so the scorpion found Orion’s tender ankle and stung him with all his might.
Tonight, when you gaze out a south-facing window or perhaps from your back porch, you can see the scorpion low in the southern sky. He glitters like desert sands, from his forward reaching claws to the gentle “s” curve of his graceful, deadly stinger. The brightest star of the scorpion lies near his front claws. It is the star Antares, which glows with a reddish hue, twinkling madly through the moving atmosphere.
So what happened to Orion after he was stung by the deadly scorpion? How did the scorpion get into the sky? Can anyone survive a scorpion attack? Stay tuned for the riveting conclusion and until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
Summertime is a good time for telling stories. Some folks like to sit around campfires in the summer telling stories, as folks have been doing through history. But storytelling happens even without campfires. One story that has been in the news is the story of the return to orbit of the Space Shuttle Discovery. As I write this, Discovery has been successfully launched after a long and nerve wracking wait. I hope by the time you are reading this, the fresh fruits and vegetables will have been safely transferred to the Space Station and the astronauts will be healthy and enjoying their weightless environment.
The return of the Shuttle Discovery is current news, and a happy story after the sad story of the Columbia. But I want to tell you a different kind of story. An old story. One that is not based on science, but based on imagination and human experience. This is a story about Orion and the Scorpion. This story has come down to us from ancient times. Perhaps the story began in Greece, or as some suggest, maybe from the very early civilizations of Babylonia. Some scientists have even found what looks like the stars of Orion carved on ancient tusk over 35,000 years ago! It is a very old story, and one that has been told more than we can imagine. I will tell you the story of the Scorpion who stung Orion.
Some say Orion came from the ancient Babylonian mythology as Uru-anna, or Light of Heaven. It has been suggested that the Greeks kept the name for the mightiest hunter that walked the earth. Orion was a giant, and very skilled in the art of killing. In fact, he was so sure of his skill that he boasted he could kill any living thing on earth. The Goddess of the earth, Gaeia, was angered by this boast, for she was the caretaker of the earth and its inhabitants, including all the creatures that Orion killed. In revenge, Gaeia sent a scorpion to bite and kill Orion.
Now scorpions can’t be seen walking down the sidewalks in Michigan, but thanks to the nature programs on TV, we have most likely seen them on a show like, “The Planet’s Most Deadly Small and Easy to Step On Arachnids.” Scorpions have long, segmented tails that curl up at the end, with the deadly stinger at the very tip. Their sting can pack a wallop, though only a few types of scorpions are actually deadly. Some of the scorpions in Arizona have fatal stings, and the one Gaeia sent to sting Orion was one of these highly toxic scorpions. And so the scorpion found Orion’s tender ankle and stung him with all his might.
Tonight, when you gaze out a south-facing window or perhaps from your back porch, you can see the scorpion low in the southern sky. He glitters like desert sands, from his forward reaching claws to the gentle “s” curve of his graceful, deadly stinger. The brightest star of the scorpion lies near his front claws. It is the star Antares, which glows with a reddish hue, twinkling madly through the moving atmosphere.
So what happened to Orion after he was stung by the deadly scorpion? How did the scorpion get into the sky? Can anyone survive a scorpion attack? Stay tuned for the riveting conclusion and until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
The Sun’s Out!
7/24/05 – 7/30/05
By C. Zaitz
We are watching it. Every day for the past two weeks, groups of kids in AstroCamp at the Ensign Planetarium have been watching the sun. Clouds do not deter us and we revel in the heat. Each morning when Helios drives the sun in his bright chariot across the sky, we are there to marvel at it, to count its spots, to measure the shadows it creates. Some days we use safe solar telescopes, and some days we rely on satellites in space.
What’s so interesting about the sun? Lately we’ve wanted to curse the sun for drying out our lawns, for wilting our flowers and for making us so darned hot. And yet, what if the sun were out- really out? Out like a burned-out light bulb? Out like a snuffed candle? That’s what makes it interesting. We need it like a bee needs nectar, like a fire needs oxygen. We know it can burn us and change our cells into cancer, but it also grows juicy watermelons and plump ears of corn. It powers our weather and fuels the seasons. It herds the planets and melts the comets. We need it even though we know we are powerless against it. Scientists say it has already used up half its fuel. Someday in the very distant future it will go out. We study the sun to see what makes it tick, to try to understand it.
Every day the sun is different. Some days it’s quite spotty, and some days it is clear. Once in a while it spews enormous rivers of hot plasma into space. This energetic solar burp can fry satellites and power stations here on Earth, but it also gives us some of the most beautiful light shows in the sky- the Aurorae. Here in Michigan, we are lucky to occasionally see these Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis). Thanks to the slower-than-light speed of the particles, we have about a day and a half advance notice of these shows. Seek out http://www.spaceweather.com on the internet if you are curious about the sun and the Northern Lights.
If the earth has gotten between you and the sun, that just means it’s night time. On July 27th, we can all use the hours before sunrise to see a pretty sight- the planet Mars some four degrees away from the last quarter moon. Though Mars and the moon won’t be rising until midnight, Venus still follows the sun in the evening twilight, and Jupiter is still guarding her from a little way southward.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
We are watching it. Every day for the past two weeks, groups of kids in AstroCamp at the Ensign Planetarium have been watching the sun. Clouds do not deter us and we revel in the heat. Each morning when Helios drives the sun in his bright chariot across the sky, we are there to marvel at it, to count its spots, to measure the shadows it creates. Some days we use safe solar telescopes, and some days we rely on satellites in space.
What’s so interesting about the sun? Lately we’ve wanted to curse the sun for drying out our lawns, for wilting our flowers and for making us so darned hot. And yet, what if the sun were out- really out? Out like a burned-out light bulb? Out like a snuffed candle? That’s what makes it interesting. We need it like a bee needs nectar, like a fire needs oxygen. We know it can burn us and change our cells into cancer, but it also grows juicy watermelons and plump ears of corn. It powers our weather and fuels the seasons. It herds the planets and melts the comets. We need it even though we know we are powerless against it. Scientists say it has already used up half its fuel. Someday in the very distant future it will go out. We study the sun to see what makes it tick, to try to understand it.
Every day the sun is different. Some days it’s quite spotty, and some days it is clear. Once in a while it spews enormous rivers of hot plasma into space. This energetic solar burp can fry satellites and power stations here on Earth, but it also gives us some of the most beautiful light shows in the sky- the Aurorae. Here in Michigan, we are lucky to occasionally see these Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis). Thanks to the slower-than-light speed of the particles, we have about a day and a half advance notice of these shows. Seek out http://www.spaceweather.com on the internet if you are curious about the sun and the Northern Lights.
If the earth has gotten between you and the sun, that just means it’s night time. On July 27th, we can all use the hours before sunrise to see a pretty sight- the planet Mars some four degrees away from the last quarter moon. Though Mars and the moon won’t be rising until midnight, Venus still follows the sun in the evening twilight, and Jupiter is still guarding her from a little way southward.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Who’s Sunset Are You Under?
7/17/05 – 7/23/05
By C. Zaitz
I had a thought one night, looking northwest out over the waters of Lake Huron. It was sunset, and the colors in the sky were glorious. I began thinking that somewhere over the Lake, or perhaps further on over there in Green Bay, Wisconsin or even in Minnesota, somewhere they were not yet seeing a sunset, because it was still day for them. For me the sky was alight with rare and shocking colors, the sun already down below the calm water. But their horizon was still bright with the sun’s light. Overhead their sky must still be blue, yet they were standing under my sunset. And what about earlier in the day? Who’s lovely sunset had I been standing under hours ago? Now their sky must be dark and starry. Who were these people? Had they (will they) see the same beauty I was now witnessing? My romantic musings led to thoughts of time zones, lines of longitude, and equations.
There are actual equations that will help answer these seemingly whimsical questions. It seems that the distance from your eye to your horizon can be figured out. The distance to the horizon is a function of your height and the radius of the earth. It turns out most people 5’-6’ tall can see about 3 miles on a clear day. But is the horizon where the sky is? No. Technically, the sky starts at our feet, but the color doesn’t. In fact, the seeing of color happens in our eyes, our brains. Uh oh- so if we aren’t there to see a sunset, is it really there at all? So how far away is our sunset? It’s closer than we think- in our heads. So I suppose the answer to my musing, “who’s sunset am I under,” would come full circle to me. I’m under my own head!
I don’t always go off on such flights of fancy, but I had some time to kill. You see, I was waiting to see Venus, and she took her sweet time showing up. Jupiter was the first planet to be seen after sunset, and Venus showed up slightly later, giving me time to ponder the sunset. The moon did sweep by both Venus and Jupiter last week, outshining them both. Now the moon grows fat and white as it reaches full moon on the 21st. By the way, the full moon always rises just as the sun sets. That’s something you can count on!
If you are out after it gets really dark, perhaps after 11pm, you will find three bright stars nearly overhead. Each star has a name and is part of a different constellation, but together we call them the Summer Triangle. It’s one of the few star groups in the sky who’s name matches its shape. The stars are named Vega, Deneb and Altair. Vega is the brightest, Altair is the most southern, and Deneb is the other one. It’s fun to find them, and if you are in dark place with little or no man-made lights invading your view, you will see a magnificent sight- the filmy light of our Milky Way Galaxy stretching through the middle of the Summer Triangle. From sunsets to galaxies- what a show.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
I had a thought one night, looking northwest out over the waters of Lake Huron. It was sunset, and the colors in the sky were glorious. I began thinking that somewhere over the Lake, or perhaps further on over there in Green Bay, Wisconsin or even in Minnesota, somewhere they were not yet seeing a sunset, because it was still day for them. For me the sky was alight with rare and shocking colors, the sun already down below the calm water. But their horizon was still bright with the sun’s light. Overhead their sky must still be blue, yet they were standing under my sunset. And what about earlier in the day? Who’s lovely sunset had I been standing under hours ago? Now their sky must be dark and starry. Who were these people? Had they (will they) see the same beauty I was now witnessing? My romantic musings led to thoughts of time zones, lines of longitude, and equations.
There are actual equations that will help answer these seemingly whimsical questions. It seems that the distance from your eye to your horizon can be figured out. The distance to the horizon is a function of your height and the radius of the earth. It turns out most people 5’-6’ tall can see about 3 miles on a clear day. But is the horizon where the sky is? No. Technically, the sky starts at our feet, but the color doesn’t. In fact, the seeing of color happens in our eyes, our brains. Uh oh- so if we aren’t there to see a sunset, is it really there at all? So how far away is our sunset? It’s closer than we think- in our heads. So I suppose the answer to my musing, “who’s sunset am I under,” would come full circle to me. I’m under my own head!
I don’t always go off on such flights of fancy, but I had some time to kill. You see, I was waiting to see Venus, and she took her sweet time showing up. Jupiter was the first planet to be seen after sunset, and Venus showed up slightly later, giving me time to ponder the sunset. The moon did sweep by both Venus and Jupiter last week, outshining them both. Now the moon grows fat and white as it reaches full moon on the 21st. By the way, the full moon always rises just as the sun sets. That’s something you can count on!
If you are out after it gets really dark, perhaps after 11pm, you will find three bright stars nearly overhead. Each star has a name and is part of a different constellation, but together we call them the Summer Triangle. It’s one of the few star groups in the sky who’s name matches its shape. The stars are named Vega, Deneb and Altair. Vega is the brightest, Altair is the most southern, and Deneb is the other one. It’s fun to find them, and if you are in dark place with little or no man-made lights invading your view, you will see a magnificent sight- the filmy light of our Milky Way Galaxy stretching through the middle of the Summer Triangle. From sunsets to galaxies- what a show.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
The Lingering Show
7/10 – 7/16
by C. Zaitz
The last resounding blasts of fireworks have subsided, but the sky is still putting on a show. Like a slow-motion, distant display, the planets, Moon and Sun will be performing all week.
Michigan summer sunsets come late, but they will come pretty this July. Venus is lingering in the twilight, like a diamond pin on the Sun’s multicolored robes as he sinks below the horizon. She’s not alone, though she does try to outshine her companions. She will not be able to outshine the Moon, but she will tell you it’s because of her distance, not her brilliancy. The waxing crescent Moon will glide silently by her and even pass by Jupiter on Wednesday, reaching first quarter phase by Thursday. You can actually see the Moon grow night after night like a widening smile as she shows us more of her sunlit side.
Planet Mercury was never one to put himself forward, always lurking in the Sun’s glow. He prefers the game of tag, and having come as close to Venus as he dared on the 9th, he’ll race back to hide in the Sun’s glow. He still can be seen close to Venus as the Sun's light drains from the sky. You’ll need a nice flat horizon to see the pair best, and of course, a fairly clear sky.
Saturn has taken his final bows as he hurtles toward conjunction with the Sun. This means that soon (July 23rd) Saturn will be directly behind the Sun from our point of view, completely out of sight. Saturn has been a faithful sky object all winter and spring, but now he leaves the stage to Jupiter and the Venus-Mercury pair at sunset. If you miss Saturn, I highly recommend a visit to the Cassini-Huygens website: http://saturn.jpl.nasa.gov/home/index.cfm. You’ll get the best view possible of Saturn and its moons from the incredible Cassini probe.
Speaking of fireworks and probes, in a departure from usual NASA policy we have sent a probe out in space for the express purpose of crashing into something! The mission is Deep Impact, its destination was a comet, and the crash date was July 4th! Imagine the “fireworks” when the 800 pound impactor space probe hurtled into Comet Tempel 1 at a speed of 22 mph! It’s not an easy feat - imagine trying to hit a tumbling potato with a grain of salt from a mile away. That was the job of the impactor as it left the rest of the probe and headed toward the comet. The remaining part of the probe watched the display from a safe distance, making calculations, taking pictures and emailing them to Earth. Surprisingly, there is a lot of information to be gained from smashing things into comets, and scientists will be interpreting data for quite a while. You can learn all about the Deep Impact mission at NASA’s website: http://deepimpact.jpl.nasa.gov/home/index.html.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
by C. Zaitz
The last resounding blasts of fireworks have subsided, but the sky is still putting on a show. Like a slow-motion, distant display, the planets, Moon and Sun will be performing all week.
Michigan summer sunsets come late, but they will come pretty this July. Venus is lingering in the twilight, like a diamond pin on the Sun’s multicolored robes as he sinks below the horizon. She’s not alone, though she does try to outshine her companions. She will not be able to outshine the Moon, but she will tell you it’s because of her distance, not her brilliancy. The waxing crescent Moon will glide silently by her and even pass by Jupiter on Wednesday, reaching first quarter phase by Thursday. You can actually see the Moon grow night after night like a widening smile as she shows us more of her sunlit side.
Planet Mercury was never one to put himself forward, always lurking in the Sun’s glow. He prefers the game of tag, and having come as close to Venus as he dared on the 9th, he’ll race back to hide in the Sun’s glow. He still can be seen close to Venus as the Sun's light drains from the sky. You’ll need a nice flat horizon to see the pair best, and of course, a fairly clear sky.
Saturn has taken his final bows as he hurtles toward conjunction with the Sun. This means that soon (July 23rd) Saturn will be directly behind the Sun from our point of view, completely out of sight. Saturn has been a faithful sky object all winter and spring, but now he leaves the stage to Jupiter and the Venus-Mercury pair at sunset. If you miss Saturn, I highly recommend a visit to the Cassini-Huygens website: http://saturn.jpl.nasa.gov/home/index.cfm. You’ll get the best view possible of Saturn and its moons from the incredible Cassini probe.
Speaking of fireworks and probes, in a departure from usual NASA policy we have sent a probe out in space for the express purpose of crashing into something! The mission is Deep Impact, its destination was a comet, and the crash date was July 4th! Imagine the “fireworks” when the 800 pound impactor space probe hurtled into Comet Tempel 1 at a speed of 22 mph! It’s not an easy feat - imagine trying to hit a tumbling potato with a grain of salt from a mile away. That was the job of the impactor as it left the rest of the probe and headed toward the comet. The remaining part of the probe watched the display from a safe distance, making calculations, taking pictures and emailing them to Earth. Surprisingly, there is a lot of information to be gained from smashing things into comets, and scientists will be interpreting data for quite a while. You can learn all about the Deep Impact mission at NASA’s website: http://deepimpact.jpl.nasa.gov/home/index.html.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
Fireworks in the Sky
7/3 05 – 7/9/05
by C. Zaitz
Did you see the show? Don’t worry, it’s still going on. Like a slow, far-away fireworks display, the planets and Sun will make a little show all week.
Michigan summer sunsets come late, but they'll come pretty this July. Our girl Venus is lingering in the twilight, like a diamond pin on the Sun’s multicolored robes as it sinks below the horizon. She’s not alone, though she does try to outshine her companions. Mercury was never one to put himself forward, always lurking in the Sun’s glow. On the evening of the 9th, however, he'll be about as far from the Sun as he can get. He can be seen very close to Venus as the Sun's light drains from the sky. Saturn has been taking his final bows as he hurtles toward conjunction with the Sun. This means that soon (July 23rd) Saturn will be directly behind the Sun from our point of view, completely out of sight. Saturn has been a faithful sky object all winter and spring, but now he leaves the stage to Jupiter and the Venus-Mercury pair at sunset. If you miss Saturn, I highly recommend a visit to the Cassini-Huygens website: http://saturn.jpl.nasa.gov/home/index.cfm. You’ll get the best view possible of Saturn and its moons from the incredible Cassini probe.
Speaking of fireworks and probes, in a departure from usual NASA policy we have sent a probe out in space for the express purpose of crashing into something! The mission is Deep Impact, its destination is a comet, and the crash date is July 4th! Imagine the “fireworks” when the 800 pound impactor space probe hurtles into Comet Tempel 1 at a speed of 22 mph! Ice will fly, and that is the intention. It’s not an easy feat - imagine trying to hit a tumbling potato with a grain of salt from a mile away. That’s the job of the impactor (on a bit larger scale) as it leaves the rest of the probe and heads toward the comet. The remaining part of the probe will be watching the display from a safe distance, making calculations, taking pictures and emailing them to Earth. Surprisingly, there is a lot of information to be gained from smashing things into comets. You can learn all about the Deep Impact mission at NASA’s website: http://deepimpact.jpl.nasa.gov/home/index.html. Though you won’t be able to see this event with the naked eye, watch for it on the news. Don’t forget, it’s not too late for AstroCamp- call me at the Planetarium to sign up your camper!
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
by C. Zaitz
Did you see the show? Don’t worry, it’s still going on. Like a slow, far-away fireworks display, the planets and Sun will make a little show all week.
Michigan summer sunsets come late, but they'll come pretty this July. Our girl Venus is lingering in the twilight, like a diamond pin on the Sun’s multicolored robes as it sinks below the horizon. She’s not alone, though she does try to outshine her companions. Mercury was never one to put himself forward, always lurking in the Sun’s glow. On the evening of the 9th, however, he'll be about as far from the Sun as he can get. He can be seen very close to Venus as the Sun's light drains from the sky. Saturn has been taking his final bows as he hurtles toward conjunction with the Sun. This means that soon (July 23rd) Saturn will be directly behind the Sun from our point of view, completely out of sight. Saturn has been a faithful sky object all winter and spring, but now he leaves the stage to Jupiter and the Venus-Mercury pair at sunset. If you miss Saturn, I highly recommend a visit to the Cassini-Huygens website: http://saturn.jpl.nasa.gov/home/index.cfm. You’ll get the best view possible of Saturn and its moons from the incredible Cassini probe.
Speaking of fireworks and probes, in a departure from usual NASA policy we have sent a probe out in space for the express purpose of crashing into something! The mission is Deep Impact, its destination is a comet, and the crash date is July 4th! Imagine the “fireworks” when the 800 pound impactor space probe hurtles into Comet Tempel 1 at a speed of 22 mph! Ice will fly, and that is the intention. It’s not an easy feat - imagine trying to hit a tumbling potato with a grain of salt from a mile away. That’s the job of the impactor (on a bit larger scale) as it leaves the rest of the probe and heads toward the comet. The remaining part of the probe will be watching the display from a safe distance, making calculations, taking pictures and emailing them to Earth. Surprisingly, there is a lot of information to be gained from smashing things into comets. You can learn all about the Deep Impact mission at NASA’s website: http://deepimpact.jpl.nasa.gov/home/index.html. Though you won’t be able to see this event with the naked eye, watch for it on the news. Don’t forget, it’s not too late for AstroCamp- call me at the Planetarium to sign up your camper!
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
The Starry Vault
6/26/05 – 7/2/05
By C. Zaitz
It’s the first full week of summer. The Sun has reached its highest high, and the nights are short as they can be. Strange, then, I chose this time to begin our weekly observations of that Starry Vault, that ”Inverted Bowl we call the Sky.” We must make what we can with our short summer evenings. There is much to be seen and enjoyed, and there is no time like tonight. So I’d like to share with you some objects, some ideas, some stories and allusions, that connect us all to our ancient heritage of sky watching and to each other. We are perhaps the only beings on the planet who can take pleasure in the faintly tinged glow from the stars and planets of our Milky Way. Here is my attempt to translate the poetry of the night sky into the prose of a newspaper column, for the sole purpose of spreading around a little wonder. I wonder a lot. Shall we go wondering?
Let us begin with Venus, making her first shy appearance this month low in the path of the sunset. Do you wonder where she’s been? Why is she so brilliant sometimes in the evening, and then disappears from the sky, only to be spotted months later early in the morning before the sunrise? She’s out dancing…dancing around the Sun in her petite orbit. She circles the Sun, never far from it, and sometimes even her dazzling beauty is eclipsed by the Sun. She’s coming back for her evening appearance, and night after night you’ll see her growing brighter and cheekier. We’ll keep our eye on her in the coming weeks.
Following Venus, caught in his predictable habit of chasing beautiful women, is Jupiter, known as Zeus to the Greeks. Bright, bold and stark, Jupiter will show off four of his largest moons to a steady pair of binoculars. Look toward the southern sky after sunset. He will outshine his neighbors, even the bright star Arcturus. If you wonder if you’ve really found Arcturus, simply find the Big Dipper in the northwest, follow the curve or arc of the handle out from the bowl till it “arcs” you around to Arcturus.
If you're wondering where the Moon is in all this, don't wait up for her. She rises nearly an hour later every night and will be at her last quarter phase on the 28th, meaning she will rise at midnight. Night owls will enjoy her cool glow in the wee hours of morning, but here at the Starry Vault, we will forgo that pleasure.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
By C. Zaitz
It’s the first full week of summer. The Sun has reached its highest high, and the nights are short as they can be. Strange, then, I chose this time to begin our weekly observations of that Starry Vault, that ”Inverted Bowl we call the Sky.” We must make what we can with our short summer evenings. There is much to be seen and enjoyed, and there is no time like tonight. So I’d like to share with you some objects, some ideas, some stories and allusions, that connect us all to our ancient heritage of sky watching and to each other. We are perhaps the only beings on the planet who can take pleasure in the faintly tinged glow from the stars and planets of our Milky Way. Here is my attempt to translate the poetry of the night sky into the prose of a newspaper column, for the sole purpose of spreading around a little wonder. I wonder a lot. Shall we go wondering?
Let us begin with Venus, making her first shy appearance this month low in the path of the sunset. Do you wonder where she’s been? Why is she so brilliant sometimes in the evening, and then disappears from the sky, only to be spotted months later early in the morning before the sunrise? She’s out dancing…dancing around the Sun in her petite orbit. She circles the Sun, never far from it, and sometimes even her dazzling beauty is eclipsed by the Sun. She’s coming back for her evening appearance, and night after night you’ll see her growing brighter and cheekier. We’ll keep our eye on her in the coming weeks.
Following Venus, caught in his predictable habit of chasing beautiful women, is Jupiter, known as Zeus to the Greeks. Bright, bold and stark, Jupiter will show off four of his largest moons to a steady pair of binoculars. Look toward the southern sky after sunset. He will outshine his neighbors, even the bright star Arcturus. If you wonder if you’ve really found Arcturus, simply find the Big Dipper in the northwest, follow the curve or arc of the handle out from the bowl till it “arcs” you around to Arcturus.
If you're wondering where the Moon is in all this, don't wait up for her. She rises nearly an hour later every night and will be at her last quarter phase on the 28th, meaning she will rise at midnight. Night owls will enjoy her cool glow in the wee hours of morning, but here at the Starry Vault, we will forgo that pleasure.
Until next week, my friends, enjoy the view!
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