Spring Stargazing

(Northern Hemisphere Version)

Typically about this time of year stargazing treats us with the last of the winter constellations: the magnificence of Orion setting in the west, followed by the Gemini twins. The first of the early spring constellations follow behind them an hour or two later: Cancer and Leo. If you wait up long enough, the summer constellations come marching across the sky in the wee hours of the morning: Hercules, Cygnus, and Sagittarius low in the sky. These all have deep-sky treats like clusters and double stars and nebulae hiding among their stars — and finding them is what makes stargazing so rewarding.

Well, that’s a quick précis of how it would look if the weather would cooperate! Stargazing is pretty heavily weather-dependent. That is, if it’s rainy or cloudy, the avid stargazer is stuck indoors staring moodily at the telescope and binoculars and star charts, wishing for clearer skies. Lately in our neck of the woods we’ve had rain and snow — actually more of the stuff than I’d care to see. So, these cloudy nights, when I’m not watching The War Channel (CNN) or reading a book, or soaking up warmth from a crackling fire in the fireplace, I’m here in front of the computer, looking at cool pics of stuff in the sky to tide me over.

A word about the weather. We live in New England, but we came from Colorado. When we got here, folks would say things to us like, “Colorado — it snows there quite a bit, doesn’t it?”

Well, first they’d say, “Yah naht from around heah, ah ya?” then we’d get down to the serious business of comparative weather patterns between New England and Denver. It would seem that the East Coast view of Colorado is that it snows there all the time and that everybody lives in the mountains. Never mind that half of Colorado is more like a desert and gets a fraction of the rainfall and snow that New England (for example) gets.

I swear that that this strange view of snowbound mountain living is a product of Monday Night Football. The running joke in Denver was that every time the Broncos were scheduled to be on Monday Night Football, there’d be a huge blizzard, which would set all the sportscasters wagging their tongues about the snow mucking up the game. And the camera folks would set their telephoto lenses up on top of Mile High Stadium, look west and zoom in on Mt. Evans which is often covered in snow from September to May.

Those of us who lived in Denver and environs knew better, and I suspect many folks figured as long as the “threat” of snow kept the East Coasters from actually moving out to Colorado and screwing up the traffic patterns (what? there were traffic patterns?), then it couldn’t be all bad.

But I digress. In Colorado, even at the height of the snow storm season, we actually many nights of good stargazing weather (as long as one dressed up warmly and had plenty of backup for the battery-operated socks). Sure it snowed. But it melted fast and the dryer climate kept us in good viewing.

But, out here in New England — well that’s quite a different story. In the six years we’ve lived here, the nights of really good stargazing have been really few and far between. Oh sure, there was the night I laid on my car hood in late November, watching the Leonid shower for nearly five hours. That was a clear night (as long as you didn’t count the light pollution). And, there have been a few nights when the temperatures dropped to the low points, the air was dry and the stars were like diamonds on velvet. Then stargazing was a quick “duck out and scan for the cool stuff with binoculars” affair because it was too cold to set up the big scope. I don’t have an observatory, which would probably make things easier. So, on those nights when stargazing just won’t be denied, I use 10×50 binoculars or a handy little scope called an Astroscan, which is portable and nearly indestructible.

You have to be a hardy lot to stargaze in New England winters — especially this past one. We started getting heavy snow on Christmas and it hasn’t let up since then. Now (early April) we’ve just had yet another few centimeters of snow, with the promise of more. This is more than Colorado had for most of the winter, although lately they’ve been getting socked, too. The difference there is that it warms up between storms.

So, like I said, weather is a big thing for stargazers. It affects what we see, when we see it, and the clarity of what we see. It makes the challenge of seeing the Orion Nebula or the Beehive or the Andromeda Galaxy, or any of dozens and dozens of other cool objects in the sky more rewarding when we actually spot them.

And those nights when I’m inside stargazing on the computer monitor? Here’s a small sampling of the places I visit on the Web:

Space Telescope Science Institute

The Astronomy Picture of the Day

The Earth Science Picture of the Day

NASA’s Planetary Photojournal Site

and, because I’m really interested in learning more about such things as 3D digital artwork:

Digital Blasphemy.

Art and Space

(Left) Space Mysteries by Vance Kirkland, courtesy of the Vance Kirkland Museum Denver, Colorado
Space Mysteries by Vance Kirkland, courtesy of the Vance Kirkland Museum Denver, Colorado

I have always been interested in the many ways of depicting space objects — whether through photography, or music, or on canvas. I’m no artist, meaning that I can’t draw or paint very well, but I do know what I like to look at. And often, I can see connections between art and the cosmos. In college one year I studied art history for a summer and grew to appreciate the different ways that artists cast their subjects — on canvas, in stone, whatever direction their muse takes them.

‘Way back in the early 1980s, my husband and I were running a recording studio and getting our planetarium show business off the ground, and we happened to meet an artist named Vance Kirkland. At the time (and for more than a decade earlier) he had been exploring scenes of outer space using a method of painting that derived from pointillism — where the artist creates whole scenes by daubing small dots of paint in primary colors to build up a larger image. Mr. Kirkland was using varying sizes of wooden dowels to daub circles of paint onto huge canvases. Some of his paintings, with names like “Energy of Mysteries in Space” and “Energy of Explosions 24 Billion Years B.C.” were wall-sized (and larger) explorations of space themes in wild colors and vibrant energy. We still have hanging in our living room a poster he created to celebrate a fund-raising effort for the Denver Symphony Orchestra. And, somewhere in my library I have a series of art books illustrating the breathtaking space views that Kirkland created throughout his career.

he Cats-Paw Nebula courtesy of the 2-Micron All-Sky Survey.
The Cat's-Paw Nebula courtesy of the 2-Micron All-Sky Survey.

Vance Kirkland died in 1981, not long after we met with him and his curator, Mr. Hugh Grant. We found out later how well-known Kirkland was — his work hangs in the Denver Art Museum and a search on his name in Google turns up thousands of citations from museums and collectors around the world. Today the Vance Kirkland Museum stands in Denver as a tribute to his work and imagination.

The top image in today’s entry is a very small thumbnail of a Kirkland painting called “Space Mysteries” and as I looked at it, I realized that although it was painted in 1973, I’d recently seen a space image that looked somewhat similar to it. But where? Then I remembered. The 2-Micron All-Sky Survey — an infrared survey of the sky undertaken by a consortium of universities and observatories recently announced that its mission of archiving 5 million images of the entire sky at high resolution was complete. I’ve mined around in the 2MASS gallery over the past few months to illustrate the upcoming book Visions of the Cosmos and had run across the second image up there — the Cat’s-Paw Nebula.

NGC 6334
NGC 6334

This area of space, also called NGC 6334, is a cloud of gas and dust that appears to be the birthplace of several massive stars. It lies more than 5,000 light-years away in the constellation Scorpius. The bright sources are very young and massive stars that are radiating light so energetic and intense that it is eating away at the clouds of gas and dust that make up the nursery in which they are born. In this 2MASS image, which shows an infrared view of the scene, the warm molecular clouds of gas and dust appear as purple-blue. The stars are almost like Vance Kirkland’s points of light, scattered to form a backdrop of light against which the diaphanous clouds of the nebula float like some ethereal ghost.

Take some time to browse the 2MASS gallery (link above). The scientists who created the images have given the objects some quite imaginative names, and the images are almost like works of art themselves. The link between the very human proclivity toward art and the majesty of the universe will set your mind spinning. To quote The Moody Blues, “It’s all around if you could but perceive.”