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...

Another Turn Toward Southern Stars in March

Melissa and I have planned a western Caribbean cruise for the beginning of March, in a few weeks.  Since we are going to be going back to more southern latitudes, I thought it might be a good idea to study my star maps and reacquaint myself with the constellations that I normally wouldn't be able to view at my 30 degree north latitude.  You might have noticed that I had dropped my "constellation of the month" feature on this blog...most of the rest of them appear in the southern sky, out of my range.  This might be an opportunity for me to, at least temporarily, revive that feature.  I think the southern constellations I'm most looking forward to seeing revolve around the super-constellation Argo, now officially broken up into Vela, Puppis, and Carina...along with ancillary smaller constellations in and around them...looking forward to seeing what I can see...

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...

Constellation of the Month: Vulpecula (the Fox)

 

Last Friday's "quote" article on this blog featured one by philosopher Alan Watts, who claimed that we don't have a problem with how constellations are arranged...I had to object.  Above is a prime example of what I mean. Most of the 88 officially recognized constellations...star patterns representing different regions on the celestial map...are insignificant and faint, chiefly devised by two astronomers: Hevelius and Lacaille.  Hevelius is responsible for the above abomination, one barely-fourth magnitude star and a background of faint stars with one Messier deep-sky object, a planetary nebula called M27.  The other dots on the above map are just background stars too dim for the naked eye to make out. Alpha Vulpeculae, commonly known as Anser (goose in German), has an appropriate name: Hevelius dubbed it that to represent the goose that the fox allegedly was holding in its mouth...question is, where is the fox?  I have never discerned Vulpecula in the night sky...it is situated just south of prominent Cygnus in the Milky Way and just north of Delphinus and Sagitta.  The latter two are also a bit small in my opinion to be proper constellations...what they should have done was to combine Vulpecula, Sagitta, Delphinus, and nearby Equuleus to form a separate constellation, connect the dots and come up with something more recognizable.  But I'm left with what is already out there...Anser, by the way, is a red giant nearly 300 light years from us.  Next month I'll try to dig up a more significant constellation to discuss for October...

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: Crux (the Southern Cross)

Crux is a striking little constellation in the celestial southern hemisphere...if you're located in a southern-enough latitude to be able to see it, that is.  I have lived most of my live in Florida, which if you happen to be in the Keys or southern Dade County is just far enough south to see Crux barely scrape the southern horizon at its apex.  Perhaps from my old house where I grew up at 26 degrees North latitude, I might have been able to see it were it not for the trees and city lights obstructing my view.  No, instead it wouldn't be until 2 AM on our cruise ship in February 2020 when it was near the Virgin Islands that I (and Melissa) saw it for our first time looking out at the beautiful seas over the rails...pretty romantic, right?  Yet I could accurately draw this constellation and its position in the sky ever since 1964, when I was first introduced to it at seven years age. The four brightest stars, two of them first-magnitude, can form either a cross if you connect just the opposite ones, or a rough diamond if you connect the adjacent ones...the former pattern is what stuck through the ages. The Coal Sack Nebula occupies a large part of Crux, along with parts of adjacent Centaurus and Musca...it's reported to be a very visible "dark" patch in the already dark sky, if you can wrap your head around that.  Anyway, someday I'd like to be south enough on a clear night to be able to clearly make out Crux...along with the many other southern celestial constellations I've known of for decades. I call Crux my "constellation of the month" for this May because it is during this month that it crosses the Meridian during the mid-evening hours...even though my only time seeing it was that February in the early morning hours. Next month I'll pick 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: 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...