Could Have Kept Going to Moon in 1973 but stopped for 53 Years

 Back in late April 1973, Meg, a good friend of my sister Anita, took us on a trip down to central Dade County, in its Coconut Grove section.  There we found their museum of science, along with the Space Transit Planetarium.  On that Sunday Star Trek's Mister Spock, aka Leonard Nimoy, hosted a show there speculating about what direction we're going with our space program.  I need not mention here that then-president Richard Nixon...who would be run out of office August the following year because of Watergate, felt absolutely no desire to move forward with human space exploration...hence he canceled the final scheduled Apollo Moon missions.  Since December 1972 no human has walked on the moon's surface,only briefly flying around it a few days ago. I believe that on April 30th 53 years ago I happily walked into my Nova High School Planetartum in the afternoon, expecting a pleasant chat with the aging director.  He was in an angry state and sounded like he was chewing ME out..no interest in exchanging any ideas or showing any  respect.  I was informed that he was retiring...and if others didn't share his astronomy interests, then screw them.  I felt offended and insulted by his childish attitude...It' like that of a spoiled brat engaged in a temper tantrum: If you don't always let me win, then I'll pick up my toys and go home.. Later in 1973, I tried joining Nova's astronomy club, but felt excluded because Steve Johnson, its president, was too important and preoccupied grinding mirrors for a new telescope.  So when i went there for meetings I spent most of my time trying to stay out of Johnson's way...he was polite but overly dismissive: I didn't quite qualify in his estimation as a legitimate guy interested in the field...or as a human being for that matter.  As it was, the club leaders cared only about Comet Kohoutek, highly hyped but turning out to visually be a monumental dud. When I was admitted to Hollywood Memorial Hospital in mid-October for corrective left inguinal hernia correction surgery, I was relieved to not be attending any more astronomy club meetings, which included some classes that I hated. Well, we're supposedly nowadays "going back" to the moon (Obama is known for flippantly dismissing that option in 2010), so let's see what the schedules reveal... 

Early Rising, Lunar Eclipse, YouTube Guru, Chemotherapy Infusion

 This morning I woke up early, a little past four.  The Blood Lunar Eclipse is scheduled now, to peak in totality between six and seven as the sky begins to lighten just before sunrise.  Fog is expected to roll in, obscuring the view.  I ran in place ten minutes, read through chapter four in my dubious Shadow Magic book, and brewed some good-tasting coffee after I ran the heat through this chilly place for a few minutes.  Last night I listened to Jim Rohn dispense some hard-ass personal development advice on establishing self-discipline habits and a positive, productive mindset.  The dude says what needs to be said and heard, and although at times it seemed like a bitter bill to swallow, I got past the message's abruptness and am listening once again.  Getting my sorry ass out of bed and going to the bathroom is just step number one of a great time in my daily routine.  After adjusting the temperature, I brewed that coffee and did the ten minutes of ipfs, lightly of course on the living room rug...and now here I am. Early this afternoon, I'm to be at the UF Davis Cancer Pavilion for a lab draw and then have a chemotherapy infusion, thanks to my wonderful Melissa's driving and advocacy.  During this period I plan to listen to more of Rohn's YouTube channel.  His shows are usually around 40 minutes in length...I should get to hear maybe two of them before needing to recharge my phone after returning home.  After getting back home I'm usually physically and mentally spent and feel like crashing out on the couch or the bed.  God bless this day, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to "get busy living' in it, as Morgan Freeman says on his pharma TV ad. Maybe I'll venture forth and do some 'rock-running' exercise as well.  One thing for certain: I'll be steering clear of those war-obsessed news and opinion channels...

Star-Gazing on Cruise Ocean Balcony

During the evening after sunset on our recent cruise, since we had a cabin with an ocean-facing balcony I spent some time there looking out at the sky.  Although there were a few clouds scattered about, I had little trouble making out the more conspicuous stars in the visible constellations.  Friday and Saturday evening offered a good view of the southern sky, and at this mid-July that meant that Scorpius was clearly the most notable and recognizable star pattern out there, vividly presenting the stellar image of a giant scorpion, with its first magnitude red giant star Antares standing out.  But below Scorpius and to the west (right) was another easily visible clump of stars...not quite as bright as those in Scorpius...that intrigued me.  I suspected that what I was viewing was mostly the constellation Lupus, with the standout inverted triangle of 2nd-and-3rd-magnitude stars and a smaller, fainter triangle to its left (east), and a couple of stars trailing off to the larger triangle's west.  After returning home I referenced a star chart and found my triangle...the bottom and top-left stars were indeed in Lupus while the top-right one was part of Centaurus, and the two trailing to the west were also in Centaurus.  As a matter of fact, had we been a little further south in the water at the time, I could have traced straight down from my triangle and reached the first-magnitude stars Alpha and Beta Centauri just above the southern horizon.  My personal star-pattern of triangles wasn't an official constellation but rather an asterism, which I called "Daisy-Doo" because it reminded me of our pet rescue dog's head.  I think tonight...if the rain clouds disperse, that is...I might just go outside and see if I can't find my Daisy-Doo hiding out there on the other side of the trees south of my house...

About Monday's Solar Eclipse

Yesterday a solar eclipse occurred, this time affecting a large section of the United States.  The path of the total eclipse was restricted to a curving belt going northeast from Texas, while here in northern Florida we were able to view a partial eclipse, all taking place in early-to-mid-afternoon. In Gainesville where it happened while I was at work, the skies were partially overcast, which didn't help.  A solar eclipse happens when the moon gets between the sun and Earth, covering up the former to the extent that blockage is more complete from our perspective.  So when you're observing a solar eclipse...hopefully through filter glasses or one of those pinhole box devices...you're not just seeing the sun, but also the "dark side" of the moon.  So is it a coincidence that Eclipse is the final track to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon album?  I hardly think so.  Usually I'm the one going around talking up an eclipse to those around me, but this time I shrugged and said to myself (and others), I'll just wait for the pictures and look at them. Now I wonder what they're going to do with all those cheap filter paper-and-plastic glasses that piled up?  You know, all you people who think you want see another solar eclipse in your lifetime, it's probably a better idea to just read up on them and how folks through history reacted...usually pretty unfavorably! But if events like these spur some young people to take a more active interest in astronomy, then I'm all for it...

Super-Constellation of the Month: the Good Ship Argo

 

I'm planning on viewing the ancient Greek super-constellation Argo on my cruise trip down to the western Caribbean, at a latitude where hopefully I can capture the full scope of these interesting star patterns of which I knew from childhood but never had the opportunity to just go out and observe.  Because Argo was so big, it was later divided into the "official", smaller constellations of Puppis (the Deck), Carina (the Keel) and Vela (the Sails). My only real connection with Argo has been with Canopus, my favorite star of the night sky and the second brightest after Sirius.  There are also four stars on the above map, two in Vela and two in Carina, that if you looked at them a certain way you could make out a cross...it's the "False Cross" that for centuries has fooled observers looking for the Southern Cross, which is far east of Argo and constitutes the constellation Crux.  My success in observing Argo will depend, of course, on the cooperation of the weather: fog and overcast skies, or annoying shipboard lights for that matter, could present issues...but I'm remaining optimistic...

Constellation of the Month: Aquarius (the Water-Carrier)

Aquarius is one of the twelve Zodiac constellations, marking the pathway along our Solar System's plane where you can see the Sun, Moon and planets in their celestial wanderings...with a corresponding astrological sign for those born between January 20th and February 18th.  It's also the name of my "song of the year" from 1969, by the Fifth Dimension, which signaled the advent of a new astrological age...but I digress: back to astronomy and reality.  Aquarius is a constellation a stargazer would see crossing the meridian (the imaginary line running across the sky from the northern horizon to the southern) during mid-evening during the month of October...hence it's my chosen constellation of this month.  Brighter than Pisces, the Zodiac constellation to its east, and dimmer than Capricornus, to its west (and south), the fact remains that all three aren't exactly easy to spot in the sky, especially if you're hindered by city lights as I am here in Gainesville.  I first encountered Aquarius at age seven looking at a star map in the Herbert S. Zim Golden Guide to the Stars handbook, but it was drawn completely omitting the constellation's western half, including its brightest stars.  Aquarius has been drawn a number of ways...I kind of freelanced the above version.  If you're new to reading star maps, take note that Greek letters are used to designate stars and, generally speaking with a number of exceptions, their relative brightness diminishes as you go down the alphabet. There are three deep-sky Messier objects in its western half: M2, M72 and M73, all globular star clusters.  The best way I know to locate Aquarius in the night sky is to find the first magnitude star Fomalhaut in Piscis Austrinus, which lies south of Aquarius, and go north a bit (upward in latitudes north of the Equator), but not so far as much more prominent Pegasus.  Good luck with that...Aquarius is hard to spot under my conditions, but at least it's not one of those dinky, insignificant constellations I've referred to recently in this monthly feature.  I guess I'll keep doing it until I run out of constellations, possibly combining some of the tinier ones...

Quote of the Week...from Alan Watts

Things are as they are.  Looking out into the universe at night, we make no comparisons between right and wrong stars, nor between well and badly arranged constellations.      ---Alan Watts

I've quoted twentieth century English philosopher Alan Watts a number of times on this blog...delving into his thoughts I could almost pick any one out at random to discuss.  This one brought out the common theme of people feeling the need to somehow place "good" or "bad" labels on the things (and people) they encounter in life. I think a lot of it has to do with insecurity and stems from childhood...there seemed to be a lot of this when I was a kid and conversations often got kind of brutal about branding people as good or bad...with much more insulting epithets applied to those in disfavor.  And when I hear grownups shooting off like that, I instantly think that they're being childish and should just cool it with their calumny.  But what grabbed my attention about this quote of Watts, who studied Eastern philosophy and liked to use Zen principles, is its ending, where he said we don't make comparisons between well and badly arranged constellations.  Speak for yourself, dude! One of my chief gripes as a confirmed stargazer from age seven is the often-crappy way that the stars are arranged in constellations...especially in the southern sky.  That's because originally there were much fewer constellations, the ancient, traditional ones based on myths, like Orion, Taurus, Gemini and Hercules for example.  These ones have distinct shapes to them when you connect the stars and can be easily picked out of the sky from the surrounding stars.  Unfortunately, too many of the 88 "official" constellations nowadays are patchwork creations of later astronomers, chiefly Hevelius and Lacaille in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, respectively.  Their contributions tend to be much smaller and dimmer, concentrated on either the empty spaces between the more prominent older constellations or in the southern sky, especially that part too far south to be seen from Europe or the Middle East. I have a monthly feature of this blog called "Constellation of the Month"...I tell you the truth, I'm running out of interesting constellations to discuss and most likely will be picking a thoroughly obscure one to discuss for this month of September.  But then again, I always regarded this blog project of mine as primarily an exercise in disciplined writing...time to get the heavy discipline going...

Constellations of the Month: Scutum (the Shield) and Serpens Cauda (the Serpent's Tail)

 

Before August ends, I'd better get in another "constellation of the month".  I'm running out of the more prominent northern ones...this time I decided to combine two of them, although technically Serpens Cauda is only half a constellation.  Serpens Cauda, representing a serpent's tail, along with its counterpart Serpens Caput (the head), sandwich the large July constellation Ophiuchus, which plays the role of serpent handler.  But I'd rather group "Cauda" with a neighboring constellation, namely neighboring Scutum, and discuss the snake's other half next June (if I'm still doing this blog feature, that is).  Neither Serpens Cauda nor Scutum are distinguished by any bright stars, although the latter does contain two deep-sky Messier objects, M11 and M26...both open star clusters.  This relatively dim sector of the sky, however, does have two prominent constellations bordering it: Sagittarius to the south and Aquila to the east.  On a clear night, making out the above connected patterns of Serpens Cauda and Scutum should serve as a good vision test...maybe I'll do so myself if these damned tropical storms will just leave me alone.  

Constellation of the Month: Draco (the Dragon)

For most people, I'm guessing, if the name "Draco" evokes any image, it's that of Harry Potter's Hogwarts classmate and adversary Draco Malfoy (excellently portrayed by Tom Feld in the movie series adaptation), both a bully and snob but somebody I nevertheless felt a deal of sympathy toward.  But since much earlier Draco has been a prominent constellation in the far northern sky, best seen during clear July evenings.  Representing a dragon, imagine the connected stars as its sinuous body winding around the polar Ursa Minor (the Little Bear or Little Dipper) to its north, with Ursa Major (Big Bear/Dipper) to its south near the dragon's tail, finally ending with its easily discernible head near Lyra and its wonderfully brilliant star Vega.  Thuban (Alpha Draconis) many thousands of years ago used to be the North Star, due to the Earth's precession (akin to a top's wobbling while spinning). Draco, although clearly visible to observers in northern latitudes, possesses no first magnitude stars and only three at third magnitude or brighter.  One of the things I'd like to do if I ever get around to traveling south of the Equator is to observe the celestial South Pole on a clear night, along with the various constellations close by that are too south for me to see from Florida. Conversely, people living "down under" may experience difficulty seeing Draco if their own latitude is too far south. Going back to J.K. Rowling's memorable series, Draco Malfoy is (finally) one-up on Harry Potter in that he is named for a constellation...that's cool: I guess he thought so, too, since he later named his son Scorpius... 

Constellation of the Month: Corona Borealis

 

Corona Borealis, although a small constellation, is easy to spot in the June evening sky at northern temperate latitudes...if the skies are clear, that is.  It's situated between Boötes to its west (left) and Hercules to its right (east), with the rough u-shaped crown studded with stars...a very easy pattern to make out.   Easily the brightest star in Corona Borealis is Alphecca (also called Gemma), a binary system about 75 light years from us.  The simplest way to find Corona Borealis in the sky is to first find Arcturus, easily the brightest star in this part of the night sky and go a little up (north) and to the left (east) from it.  Corona Borealis is, in English, the Northern Crown, and it is fun to see as it passes directly overhead: maybe an hour or two before or after it hits the zenith might be the preferred observation time to avoid straining your neck! Now we're officially entering the summertime, and if you can stand the mosquitos, enjoy clear skies and are free of obstructing streetlights, then get hold of a star map and see how many summer constellations you can recognize...Corona Borealis should be one of the more obvious ones to find.  

Next month: another constellation...

Constellation of the Month: Vela (the Sails)

 

Vela is a southern constellation, one that I, as a stargazer, have never seen in the night sky in its entirety due to its low latitude as it peaks during the early April evening hours, often obscured by trees, buildings and city lights.  Originally, with Puppis (the Deck) and Carina (the Keel) the three constituted the mega-constellation Argos, representing the ship from Greek mythology carrying Jason in his pursuit of the Golden Fleece.  The star designations are still the same although the constellation was split up...hence no Alphas or Betas with Vela, the brightest star being second-magnitude Gamma on its west end.  The rest of "Argo" is on Vela's west and south sides (right and down on the above star map).  If you look at the bottom of the map I drew, you'll see a figure of a cross with broken lines...that's the famous "False Cross" that observers sometimes mistake for the Southern Cross (aka the constellation Crux) which lies further eastward...those two most southerly stars in the False Cross are actually a part of Carina.  Some time I'd like to get myself south of the equator in a place unobstructed by city lights and relatively clear much of the year and just stand there taking in all the southern constellations I cannot see from my latitude here at 30 degrees North...the ancient constellation Argo, with its components Vela, Puppis and Carina, would be one of my top priorities...

Next month: another constellation...

Constellation of the Week: Cancer (the Crab)

 

Cancer, the springtime evening Zodiac constellation east of Gemini and west of Leo...and representing a crab...is perhaps the faintest of the Twelve.  As a matter of fact, because of the dimness of even its brightest stars, the best way to locate Cancer is to find the gap in the sky between its Zodiac neighbors and going straight north from the more visible head of Hydra.  I guess in a completely dark sky away from city lights you can make it out, but I have never seen for myself the constellation other than on star maps.  It does feature two deep-space Messier objects. M44 "Praesepe" or the Beehive, is an open star cluster relatively close to us at 590 light years, located in the constellation's center. M67, in the south of Cancer, is another open cluster.  I think I'll make a promise to myself and one clear night in the next week or so pull out my binoculars and check it out...lugging that big old telescope out from the back is too much trouble and, besides, I never could figure out how to pinpoint stars with it. Hey, maybe that can be my next project after I see Cancer with the field glasses...

Next month I'll try to dish up another constellation to discuss...

Constellations of the Month: Canis Minor and Monoceros

I had originally intended to just make Canis Minor ("Little Dog" in Latin) my "constellation of the month" for February, but since, as you can see, it's only represented on star maps by two stars connected together: I thought that might be a little boring.  So, I added Monoceros (supposedly representing a Unicorn), sandwiched between Canis Minor and, to the south, Canis Major.  Monoceros is basically a sector of the night sky marked by dim stars...good luck making it out in the city.  But both stars in the Little Dog are easily visible, and Procyon is a bright, first-magnitude star, a nearby one only some 11 light years away (just 67.4 trillion miles!).  The drawing of Monoceros connects the faint stars to resemble a unicorn...just barely, but none of its stars are brighter than fourth magnitude. The Rosette Nebula is in its "head", at 6.0 magnitude just barely visible to the unaided eye if there are no earthbound lights to interfere with viewing.  There is also a Messier object in the constellation's south part, M50, which is a star cluster. Out of this whole picture I am used to easily finding Procyon against the background patterns of other constellations, most notably Gemini to the north, Orion to the west and Canis Major (with Sirius, the night sky's brightest star) to the south.  Next week I'll try out figure out another constellation (or two) to discuss...

Constellation of the Month: Taurus (the Bull)

 

If you're looking at the above star map of the evening wintertime Zodiac constellation Taurus, representing a bull, the planet Mars stands out sharply.  But it's only in that position in the night sky if you happen to go outside and view it tonight or in the next few days...don't expect to see it there if you're reading this in, say, 2024...or even just a few weeks from now, for that matter.  Aldebaran is the standout first magnitude star in Taurus, in proximity to the open star cluster Hyades, represented by some of the constellation's fainter stars.  The famous cluster Pleiades is situated on the constellation's western end, at first glance a smudge in the night sky. But with more intense inspection the brightest stars within it can be visually detected...if you have 20/20 eyesight, that is.  Near the tip of the "lower horn" lies M1, aka the Crab Nebula, remnant of a renowned supernova explosion in 1054...you need a good pair of binoculars or a telescope to view it.  Taurus is one of the more prominent constellations in the winter evening sky as well as being one of the northernmost in the Zodiac, passing the meridian around 9 pm local standard time.  But to its immediate south is easily the most brilliant constellation of all, Orion, and sometimes Taurus gets unfairly passed over.  If the sky is clear, why not step outside and see if you can see the Bull?  My suggestion is twofold: either look for the "smudge" (the Pleiades) and go eastward from that or identify Orion and go northward.  Oh, and right now Mars is pretty prominent and red: that's a good "skymark" as well...

Constellations of the Month: Aries and Triangulum

Even since I learned the constellations, their star patterns and locations back in 1964, I have always grouped small Aries (representing a ram) and even smaller Triangulum (representing, er...uh, a triangle) together as a combo deal.  They're just east of the dismally dim Zodiac constellation Pisces, although the two aren't endowed with bright stars, either.  They also tend to get overshadowed by the brilliant display of stars to their east, with Taurus (including the nearby beautiful cluster the Pleiades, visible to the naked eye as a smudge in the night sky) and spectacular Orion drawing the star gazer's attention away from them.  Triangulum does have a deep space object, M33, which is a spiral galaxy visible without binoculars, but only when the sky is very dark.  The three main stars in Aries also form a triangle, duh...I don't know why they didn't just graft what is Triangulum onto the Ram and make one more substantial star group, but I didn't live way back in ancient times when they came up with these designations.  As a kid watching the night sky, I always regarded making out Triangulum and Aries as a sort of visual test...this task is made easier when they pass nearly overhead this time of the year around 9 pm Standard Time, making them less susceptible to city lights.  Triangulum has a southern counterpart constellation, dubbed "Triangulum Australe"...I've actually seen star maps with it represented by a crude quadrilateral of connected stars...really???   And I can't finish this article without mentioning what you probably already know: Aries is a Zodiac constellation, so the elliptic, the imaginary celestial "line" representing the plane of our solar system through while the sun, moon, and planets seem to travel, passes through it...

Next month I'll pick another constellation (or two) to discuss...

Constellation of the Month: Andromeda

 

Andromeda is a prominent constellation in the autumn evening sky, passing overhead for many of us in the northern hemisphere during the month of November.  Attached to Pegasus (Alpheratz is usually seen as common to both constellations), it is probably best known for the Andromeda Galaxy, also called M31 in the Messier catalog of deep space objects.  This galaxy is visible to the acute naked eye in places unencumbered by outdoor lights, but you can still easily view it with a good pair of binoculars. There seems to be a scientific consensus that the Andromeda Galaxy and our own Milky Way will collide sometime in the distant future, eventually combining to form a new, non-spiral galaxy.  Near M31 are two "companion" galaxies, M32 and M110...better use a telescope for those.  Andromeda represents the chained maiden in the ancient Greek Perseus myth, as the hero arrives on the winged horse Pegasus to rescue her from the sea monster.  All three are "in the sky" as constellations, along with Andromeda's mother Queen Cassiopeia and father King Cepheus.  Personally, I think all the old myths are kind of lame...they should reconfigure the night sky with figures from Stephen King stories, and throw in a few from Tolkien and some other more modern writers as well...

Next month: another constellation...

Constellation of the Month: Cepheus (the King)

 

Cepheus, which crosses the meridian just above Polaris (the North Star) around 10 pm in October (Daylight Savings Time), is a prominent northern hemisphere constellation although it boasts of no prominent stars. Alderamin is its brightest, barely dimmer than 2nd magnitude.  Cepheus represents an ancient king, the husband of Queen Cassiopeia in the Perseus mythology.  In this region of the sky the Perseus myth is strongly represented by several constellations: the hero Perseus, the fair maiden Andromeda, the winged horse Pegasus, the sea monster Cetus...and Andromeda's parents Cepheus and Cassiopeia, side by side in the night sky.  I probably should have inverted the above depiction of Cepheus as that is its position when it is highest in the sky.  It possesses several deep-space objects although none are from the traditional Messier catalogue.  According to Wikipedia, the constellation contains a very powerful quasar powered by a supermassive black hole as well as a hypergiant star, Mu Cephei, whose surface would extend beyond Jupiter's orbit were it situated in our Sun's place...

If it's not cloudy, I think I'll go out tonight and check out Cepheus.  By the way, that bright "star" you see rising high in the southeast sky during the evening is really the planet Jupiter...

Next month: another constellation...

Constellations of the Month: Sagitta (the Arrow) and Delphinus (the Dolphin)

Sagitta, which really does resemble an arrow, and Delphinus...which does not resemble a dolphin...are tiny constellations situated between the larger Cygnus and Aquila in the summertime evening sky.  Altair, in the neighboring constellation Aquila, is the southernmost of the prominent three first-magnitude stars commonly referred to as the "Summer Triangle"...I included it in the above illustration to show where these two pipsqueak constellations are located in the night sky.  Their stars are all dim, but they do form distinct patterns...you should be able to easily make them out in a setting without city light interference.  The Milky Way cuts through them, so this region of the sky is pretty as well.  As for deep space objects...besides the Milky Way galaxy background itself...there is within Sagitta M71, which is a globular star cluster.  Delphinus is also referred to as "Job's Coffin", but it doesn't resemble one any more than a dolphin.  Since this time of year around 10 pm these constellations in northern temperate latitudes pass nearly overhead, as long as it's not cloudy or you're not in the middle of a metropolis, then spotting them might stand as a reasonable test of your vision...

Next month, I'll pick another constellation to discuss...

Constellation of the Month: Lyra (the Lyre)

 

Lyra is a small constellation in the northern night sky, crossing the meridian in mid-evening during the month of August.  It is dominated by the first-magnitude star Vega, which along with Altair (of Aquila) and Deneb (of Cygnus) form the "Summer Triangle" of readily discernible stars.  For those living north of the Equator, Vega is visible in the evening throughout much of the year but it's the summertime in which its constellation, Lyra, is more easily seen as it is highest up from the horizon. The constellation is most easily pictured as a parallelogram of nondescript stars with that very-bright Vega...relatively close to us at only 25 light-years distance...near its northwestern corner.  On the south side of the constellation is the Messier deep-space object M57, also known as the Ring Nebula and one of the more picturesque sights in the night sky...naturally, you need a telescope to see it, so why not just take a gander off the Internet instead?  The fastest way to pinpoint Lyra in the night sky is to find those three stars in the Summer Triangle...Vega is the brightest and is the one north and west of the other two.

Next month I'll pick another constellation to discuss...

Constellation of the Month: Libra (the Scales)

 

Libra, representing measuring scales, is a zodiac constellation, crossing the meridian during mid-evening in June and bounded by Scorpius on its east and Virgo to the west.  In fact, the two brightest stars in it...and with the coolest names out there...are Zubeneschamali and Zubenelgenubi, respectively meaning the "northern claw" and "southern claw", presumably of the neighboring scorpion.  Other than them, though, Libra is pretty nondescript as constellations go, with star maps usually just showing an irregular quadrilateral of faint stars...even the two I just mentioned are only of third magnitude brilliance. Libra doesn't have any Messier objects (usually star clusters, galaxies or nebulae) but in May there is the Librid meteor shower centered here. Although easy to miss in the night sky, Libra is still more conspicuous than other zodiac constellations like Cancer and Pisces, more on a par with Aquarius and Capricornus.  For me personally, besides Zubeneschamali and Zubenelgenubi's ushering in of the much more interesting Scorpius in the southeastern sky, Libra is my birth sign although I thoroughly reject the validity of astrology as a personality indicator or soothsaying device. Next month I'll pick a constellation from the July evening sky to discuss...