It’s Not Dead, Jim

It’s Alive!!!! (In the Geological Sense, That Is…)

For those of you who thought Mars was a dead planet, this just in: there are avalanches out there, Captain!

The ongoing in situ exploration of Mars, which includes two rovers, and three orbiters (plus another spacecraft headed out to Mars by May of this year) is showing us a lot of Mars for our money. Just about every day, and more than once a day, you can log into the Mars missions web pages and see the latest from the Red Planet. And that doesn’t even count the great  images that Hubble Space Telescope gets every once in a while.

If you have been checking out Mars images pretty frequently, you’ll know that the place is far from being a dead planet. Sure, it has no biological life (that we know of , so far), but in every other way that counts, it is an evolving planet. The atmosphere changes with the seasons, its surface is constantly sculpted by winds and possibly the action of tectonic forces, and its polar caps grow and shrink throughout the year. If it had some liquid water on the surface, we’d probably see that change as the years go by. As it is, we are limited to watching what happens with ice and dust and rocks, but Mars hasn’t let us down. The Red Planet is giving us quite a show for our exploration money. And that’s the beauty of sending long-term missions to other planets: we get to see them change over time, which lets us understand them far better than if we only had snapshots to work from.

The latest in planetary surface modification at Mars comes to us from the High Resolution Imaging Science Experiment on the Mars Reconnaisance Orbiter. It caught a sequence of events on near the Martian north pole that are clearly action shots of an avalanche in progress. Dust and ice are tumbling down a 700-meter (2,300-foot) tall cliff and settling out on a gentler slope below. It’s pretty dramatic-looking, isn’t it?

Mars avalanche

Stars and Heavy Metal, Dude

Metallic-*

Astronomers, like people in any other special discipline, have their own language. You’ve probably heard some of it, or read about it from time to time. Terms like “supernova” and “quasar” and “black hole” are all part of our everyday language, but they originated in astronomy. But, ever hear an astronomer talk about metallicity in a star? The word makes it sound like there are stars out there with full metal jackets or heavy metal interiors or something like that.

In truth, “metallicity” is a sort of shorthand way for astronomers to tell you how much of a star’s elemental inventory is made up of things other than hydrogen and helium. If you dig a little deeper, however, you find out that metallicity is also another way of indicating the age of star and what sort of birth cloud it formed in. For that reason, metallicity comes into play in a lot of discussion about the evolution of stars and galaxies and–of particular interest to those of us who live on planets–solar system formation.

Globular cluster M80, as seen by Hubble Space TelescopeHow does this metallicity thing work? First, think about star birth. Stars form from whatever materials are in their birth clouds. If those clouds are purely hydrogen, then that’s what the stars will be mostly made of. If their birth clouds have other elements like calcium, carbon, lithium, and sodium–in essence, any elements heavier than hydrogen and helium, then the stars will have those elements, too. Normally we wouldn’t think of sodium and carbon and calcium as metals, but in this context, that’s what they’re called.

Some older stars in the universe, notably the ones that formed not long after the Big Bang (some 13.7 billion years ago) are metal-poor. That is, they are mostly (or all) hydrogen and helium, with a few traces of other elements. We find those stars in globular clusters like M80 (left), or in some of the earliest galaxies. They’re also often referred to as “Population II” stars.The Sun, as seen by SOHO

Now, as older stars die (really, as any star dies), they enrich the interstellar medium with heavier elements. Where do those come from? I won’t go into the details of star death here, but it’s enough to know for now that as stars evolve, they create heavier elements in their cores. When a star dies, all that material eventually finds its way to interstellar space, either through mass loss (stellar winds) or through supernova explosions.

Those elements get mixed into clouds of gas and dust (called nebulae), and from those clouds come the next generations of stars; these all are born with heavier elements in them and are called “metal rich” and “Population 1” stars. The Sun (seen here in a SOHO satellite image) is a Population 1 star. If you look at its light through a spectrograph, you’ll see that the Sun has hydrogen, but it also has calcium, sodium, and traces of neutral iron and other “heavy” elements. These all reflect the conditions of the Sun’s birth cloud and place it firmly in the ranks of Population 1 stars.

If our star hadn’t formed in a metal-rich cloud, that is, if it had formed from a cloud of nearly pure hydrogen, no planets would have formed. You need those heavy elements to make planets. And those heavy elements were born inside other stars that lived and died billions of years before the Sun formed. Which makes us, as Carl Sagan once said, “Star stuff.” So, we (and the planet we live on) are also part of the “metal rich” universe, a pure byproduct of metallicity.