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.

Rainy-Night Astronomy

What to do when the weather isn’t cooperating with your desire to do astronomy? That’s the question of the ages. Last night, for example, I was all ready to observe the occultation of Saturn by the Moon. We had lots of breaks in the clouds (often called sucker holes) up to 30 minutes or so before the main event (which occurred at 7:32 p.m. at my location). Then, the rain clouds moved in, and by occultation time it was starting to sprinkle. The heavy rains soon followed. Well, we needed the rain…

What did I do? Since I’m in the middle of writing a new book about astronomy (plus a planetarium script about HST science) I came back in here and worked on the computer for a while. The European Southern Observatory site has some wonderful pictures and results from their many telescope installations in Chile. I noodled around there for a while, enjoying the views across the light-years and downloading some interesting additions to the chapter on galaxies.

If you’re clouded out from observing, it’s probably easiest to plop yourself in front of the ol’ Boob Toob and watch whatever plays across the screen. Sometimes I do that, if I’m not feeling particularly motivated and don’t want to work on my projects any more. But, with the Olympics on, I either watch those, or I can eschew the Plasma Goddess completely for some good reading. Lately I’ve been ploughing through some books for review, and of course I always have a science fiction mag or two to read.

Occasionally I fire up some astronomy software and explore the sky that way. I can always say that I’m learning about tomorrow’s sky — provided it clears up!

What’s That Thing Moving Across the Sky?

When I was a little kid my dad took me out to look at the sky. All I remember about it is that I wanted to see a satellite called “Sputnik” because I had heard everybody talking about it. I probably figured (in all my 4-year-old glory) I could just look up and see something moving across the sky. I probably didn’t see it that night because, let’s face it, Sputnik wasn’t much bigger than a couple of bowling balls knocked together. But, it’s possible to see satellites moving across the sky these days — no problem!

A satellite is simply an object in orbit around a larger one. That’s why we call the Moon a satellite of the Earth. Jupiter has four main satellites (moons) and Saturn has dozens.

There are more than 8,000 bits of “stuff” orbiting the Earth alone, ranging from pieces of equipment to weather and communications satellites — plus the space station and of course, the Space Shuttle when it’s on a mission. The ones we can see from Earth’s surface look like small, slowly-moving points of light. Satellites don’t usually flash (like aircraft do) and they take a minute or two to move across your field of view. If you spend any time at all looking at the stars, you’ll eventually spot a satellite. Avid satellite hunters call them space birds.

As you might expect, there are websites that talk about satellites, what they are, how to spot them, and how to identify what you’ve seen. The best is NASA’s Satellites page.

There’s also the Heaven’s Above in Germany.

And, the The Visual Observer’s Satellite Page.

So check them out, and the next time you’re stargazing, watch out for the space birds!