Improving on the Mark 1 Eyeballs

Binoculars.

That’s the answer to one of the first questions people ask about astronomy: “What do I need to look at the night sky?” This is, of course, assuming that they already know they can simply walk outside and look up at a starry evening. Don’t laugh. You’d be surprised at the ideas people hold about the sky. Planetarium people get lots of questions from the public about how to do astronomy. So do professors of astronomy at universities. Sometimes they’re good questions, sometimes they’re not.

But, I digress.

Here’s the way it works. You get a yen to look at things in the night sky. Maybe you saw a killer pic of some galaxy or planet in the newspaper or at the planetarium. You want to see it for yourself. So, you head outside, look up, and wonder to yourself, “Well, maybe if I had a kick-butt telescope system, I’d be able to see more stuff.”

Wrong. Well, sort of. Sure, you could see more with a telescope — but do you know where to point it? Do you know if that killer object you saw on the HST website is even visible from where you live? And, how would you go about finding it among all those stars?

There’s a little-appreciated fact of life about astronomy that eludes the instant gratification crowd. And, that fact is this: first you go out and look up. Then you decide you want to learn more about the night sky. You’re never going to see the sky as those pictures in the paper and magazines and TV shows make it look.

Never.

It’s true. So, if all you’re after is looking at killer pics of distant space oddities, then there is a wealth of web sites, books, DVDs, CD-ROMs and other media that collect great pics for your browsing pleasure. Go for it. That’s what they’re there for. And doing astronomy that way is one way to explore the universe.

Still… observing the sky doesn’t have a lot to do with those pictures. Observing the sky, at least in the beginning, is all about looking at the whole sky each night, and pushing the limits of your vision to find out how much YOU can see. And what you can learn about what you can see.

The first thing you learn is that you don’t know very much — but that you sure do like looking at those twinkling points of light up there. They sort of call your name. They lie in patterns that catch your eye. If you look long enough, you start to notice other things up there — faint fuzzy blots of light. Could be star clusters. Could be nebulae. You’re not sure.

That’s when those telescope ads start calling your name. However, resistance to them is NOT futile. You will not be assimilated like a drone into the ranks of the “gotta have a telescope” grunts until YOU have learned the sky. You know why? Because once you get a telescope, you’ve limited your field of view. You’ve narrowed it down and put a piece of equipment between you and the sky. You’re allowing IT to define your view. There’s a time and a place for that. Don’t get me wrong — because I have three telescopes. But I also have two eyes that give me a pretty wide look at the sky. So, even though I stumble over three telescopes in the dark, it is equally true that some nights I go out observing without them.

When I want to magnify my vision — I reach for the binoculars and focus in on whatever it is that has caught my attention. Sometimes I just simply sweep the sky with the binos, peering through them to see what will catch my fancy. And then, if I see something through them that is still too faint and fuzzy, I reach for the telescope.

It’s my secret to enjoying the sky. Start with your eyes. And hang a pair of binos around your neck — they’ll come in handy more than you ever expected.