Messier Year in a Night

Most dreams come by dark of night. Luckily for 18th century astronomer Charles Messier, that was precisely where his dreams could best be realized. Messier dreamed of comets. Discovering such celestial road shows was all the rage in the 18th century (and still causes excitement today). Like most dreamers, Messier probably thought his dreams unattainable, making such a dream all the more appealing.

Since dreams are largely concerned with things new and different, they also tend to bring problems. We rarely dream a thing easily done, probably because most of life comes undreamt and were we to dream it, a host of problems would beset us! While seeking comets, Messier encountered lots of problems. One big problem was that he kept finding comets everywhere. But those ‘comets’ never seemed to go any where, they just remained comfortably parked in space between the stars.

Although many of Charles Messier’s comets didn’t exactly have tails, he told others of them anyway. In so doing, Messier made a list publishing it in the French almanac Connoissance des Temps. After all, if Messier kept running into pseudo-comets, others would too! That list (The Catalogue of Nebulae and Star Clusters) is now more than 100 ‘comets’ long and 2 centuries old. Today, it’s still in use, despite the fact that astronomers have gone on to discover not thousands, nor tens of thousands, not even hundreds of thousands, but millions of ‘comets’. Like most of Messiers’, these comets don’t seem to go anywhere either.

Not all Messier’s comets looked like comets. Even through his smaller instruments, more than 2 dozen resolved into stars. Nor was Messier the first to see them. A few had been known for centuries. Some were first seen by observing partner Pierre Mechain, many by other telescopic astronomers of the era. Drawing lines wasn’t where Charles Messier was at. If it wasn’t a fixed star, the Moon, or moving planet and had anything unusual about it, it pretty much qualified for his list whether he was the first to see it or not. After all, Charles Messier wasn’t a Philosopher of Science, he was a man on a mission. And that mission was finding anything that even smacked of comet!

Unlike Charles Messier, I haven’t made a career of looking for comets. (Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that I don’t live in the 18th century.) If I come across something comet-like while sweeping the sky with my telescope and it isn’t already on someone’s list, I can be pretty sure I’ve independently discovered someone else’s ‘comet’. In observing the night sky, I, like many other amateur astronomers, have made numerous independent discoveries of such deep sky studies – simply because I didn’t know a particular galaxy, cluster or nebula was there when I first came across it.

I’ve often imagined what it would be like to instantly travel to another distant world. Graced by a canopy of unfamiliar stars overhead and accompanied by a few choice optical instruments, I’d soon set out to chart my own course across the heavens. How would I proceed? What equipment would best suit me? What value would my discoveries be to myself and others? Such questions are interesting enough to ponder. I can only imagine such a thing, the earliest telescopic observers of the Night Sky lived it.

Today, I know too much about the Northern Hemisphere sky to live such a dream in earnest. Perhaps someday I’ll be able to approach unseen parts of Southern Hemisphere sky in this way.

My personal experience with astronomy began four decades ago. As a child, I was a frequent and precocious visitor to a particular branch of the public library system of Jacksonville, Florida. In that library, I inhaled every book on space science and rocketry available. Although I read astronomy, it was only later that ‘the oldest science’ became my primary interest. (I’ve never launched more than a bottle rocket in my life.)

In the olden days, amateur astronomy pretty much revolved around three main areas of observation: Lunar-planetary, variable and double stars. The average amateur felt fortunate to have a six inch German-equatorial mounted Newtonian reflector or a three and a half inch, long-focus achromatic refractor. Due to great focal length, the refractor was usually turned on Moon, planets, or double stars. A six inch reflector could have had loftier aspirations, but such a scope was often directed to those same studies plus variable stars. Very few observers took the time to track down faint fuzzies. Precisely because, with few exceptions, that's what you’d see.

As things turned out, I have a six inch and almost 3.5 inch refractor today. Sure, I still look at the moon, planets and stars. But I visit with galaxies, clusters and nebula too. Many are listed on Charles Messier’s list, far more are not. Amateur astronomy has changed. Amateur astronomy has gone deep…

By the time of my new millennia return to astronomy, an explosion in scope apertures, types and mounts had occurred. The advent of digital setting circles and "goto" electronics had also simplified astro-navigation. All this astonished me. A whole new universe had opened up in my absence. Amateur’s resolved dense globular clusters, saw spiral arms around galaxies, detected central stars in planetary nebulae, even photographed in color! Whole new possibilities for visual exploration and digital imaging had been made possible by advancements in optics, digital processors and computing.

Then there was also the Internet with its thriving community of ‘astronuts’ posting scope reviews, observing reports, CCD images, digitized photographs even as others argued how many galaxies could dance around M84 & 86 in a single field of view and the relative virtues of Apos, Newts and Cats.

There was a lot to catch up on. My youthful experience was limited to a handful of the more spectacular Messier studies (such as M42, 31 & 13), double stars and, of course, the Moon and bright planets. During that time, the NGC (New General Catalogue) was a scholarly tome referenced only within the inner sanctums of the world's great observatories. In my absence, deep sky observation escaped the observatory bottle and found a home in the backyard's of amateur astronomers everywhere. Amateurs were framing images of the cosmos antiquating many taken from the great observatories by professional astronomers during the first half of the twentieth century.

To get caught up, I needed a plan. Fortunately, I still retained much of what I’d learned as a kid. I understood how time of night and season of year determined what could be seen at any given time. I appreciated the importance of having well-maintained, quality equipment under a sky of good transparency and fine stability. And I had a solid grounding in the technical jargon used to label deep sky studies: Planetary Nebula, Bright Nebula, Globular Cluster, Open Cluster, Spiral Galaxy along with their properties: Cumulative magnitude, apparent size, right ascension, declination. Most important, I knew enough to get started finding my way around the night sky - by eye, binoculars, finder scope or main tube.

So I put together an observing plan. That plan had me out every possible night from September 23, 2000 through September 16, 2001. During that one year, I tracked down and documented some 300 deep sky studies: From galaxies to open and globular clusters, bright and planetary nebulae and double stars. With great effort and plausible deniability, I was even able to locate the furthest denizen possible using modest amateur equipment - 3 billion light-year distant quasar 3C273. Today, I credit what familiarity I have with the night sky to the disciplines of that single year - a year that would be very difficult for me to ever repeat again...

While developing my year-long observing plan, I placed special attention on four main astronomical factors: A particular studies type, right ascension, declination, and surface brightness. Each factor had a huge impact on a particular study's visibility. Any one factor could completely preclude it from being seen at any given time or from any particular locale. Other factors (such as equipment, visual acuity, experience level, environment and seeing conditions) also determined the susceptibility of any given deep sky study (DSS) to view. Successful is the astronomer who takes all these factors into account and makes an honest appraisal of the limits of available equipment, seeing conditions and personal skills involved. Yet despite my best laid plans, several planned studies eluded my eyes, scope and skies. I was generally, but not always, successful.

Out of success and failure, I came to realize that a lot goes into being a practical astronomer. Most important was the desire to get out under the Night Sky at all. But since desire, like cloudless nights, can’t be relied on, discipline too was necessary. Desire can get you started, but only discipline can see you through tough times to a satisfactory conclusion. The gain of all this wanting and willing is skill-in-action. Skill-in-action however, requires an objective demanding, in turn, a critical mass of knowledge, equipment and opportunity.

So we begin any plan with the notion of opportunity. You can’t find it if it isn’t visible. When assessing visibility, the first step is to know where a thing is. Only then can you begin to determine when it might be seen.

A particular study’s right ascension binds it to the time of year and hour of night it can be seen to best advantage. Right ascension may be thought of as the position (in hours and minutes) any study takes on a twenty-four hour clock. On this particular clock, zero hour bisects the vault of the sky at 6:00 PM on the day of the winter solstice. Every hour greater than zero hour is another hour later in the evening (on that same day). Each hour spans 15 degrees of the sky (at the celestial equator). All this makes sense when we realize that, under ideal conditions (like living on a tropical island inhabited by an indigenous population of hula dancers), we can see, at best, 50% of the sky at any given time. And that 50% is made up of a dome-like, hemispherical expanse of 180 degrees. The other half of that dome? Well, its largely being eclipsed by another astronomical body of enormous importance – the Earth!

This leads to our second planning parameter: Declination. Living anywhere other than along the Earth's equator prevents us from seeing the entire span of the cosmos. In fact, the further we live from the equator, the less of the total celestial vault we can view. Assuming again that we live on an island whose horizon is the ocean surface it’s pretty easy to determine how much of the sky we lose (south or north). If our island is at 20 degrees north latitude, we lose 20 degrees of the southern sky beneath the waves. So any proposed study with a declination greater than -70 degrees (-90 + 20) never appears and can be politely removed from our observing plan. No amount of aperture or superior optics will ever reveal an object further south from that island. However, the 20 degrees of southern sky lost to us is recovered by realizing that studies within 20 degrees of the north polar axis remain above the horizon.

Right ascension, declination, time of year, time of night and where you observe from. These five parameters can be thought of as the hard stops of astronomical observation. Yet there are soft stops as well…

As a particular study approximates the horizon, sky conditions make it more and more difficult to find and view. In effect, the atmosphere robs it of its light, while undermining contrast and adding noise to image quality. This effectively reduces susceptibility in two ways:

Speaking practically, most amateurs would agree that a study less than 10 degrees (one extended fists width) above the horizon is effectively unobservable. Certainly, it may be seen, but little of its grandeur and beauty remains. The combination of factors cited above leeches luminosity out of its image and adds a grey murky haze throughout the field of view. Finally, if a study includes resolvable components (such as the tightly-packed stars of a globular cluster) the additional turbulence of the sky at lower elevations blends its individual lights into a single inchoate mass. The result is a loss of resolution comparable to smothering a speaker grille with a pillow then attempting to distinguish an oboe from a saxophone.

This leads to a little practical astronomy done without much in the way of equipment. Go outside on any reasonably dark, cloud and moonless night. Find yourself a location as far away from obstructing trees and artificial illumination as possible. Look directly overhead and make a small chart of all the stars you can see down to the very faintest. Repeat this same kind of chart for stars near the horizon. Include as much of the sky as your think necessary in both charts. Once you’re done, refer to an astronomical atlas to determine the magnitude of the very faintest stars included on your two charts. This one experiment will give you an idea of how much atmospheric extinction occurs between the overhead sky (on the zenith) and the sky down low near the horizon.

If lucky, you’ll see stars to magnitude 5.5 overhead and 4.0 within 10 degrees above the horizon. The same amount of atmospheric extinction will also afflict any unseen studies in the same part of the sky and will cut the aperture of any telescope you may use in half. So that big gulp 12 inch Dobsonian reflector you may be using has been reduced to six inches by simply giving it the tilt toward the horizon…

Aside from the fading effect of the sky, each DSS has a native surface brightness. This brightness is based on its size, total (or cumulative) magnitude, and the unique way light is distributed across it. Some studies (such as Seyfert Galaxy M77 in Cetus) have very bright nuclei but rapidly dim to the frontier. Others (such as the dwarf elliptical galaxy M110 in Andromeda) show a far more gradual dimming from the center outward. Large objects with high cumulative magnitudes (such as M33) can be more difficult to find than small objects of much lower magnitude (such as M57 in Lyra). Including a DSS on an observing plan whose brightest feature is outside the reach of a particular telescope is a sure recipe for frustration. If the study also happens to be low in the sky, a great deal of scattered light is nearby, or the atmosphere is generally less transparent than hoped, difficulties multiply.

NOTE: To assist in evaluating specific deepsky studies for susceptibility, special DHTML calculators were created for this website. One, the Limiting Magnitude Calculator allows you to determine the dimmest star that may be seen through most scopes depending on sky condition, position, and other factors. A second, The Deepsky Susceptibility Calculator may be used to determine which potential studies can actually be found or properly viewed (under optimal seeing conditions). A third, the Double Star Resolution Calculator can predict whether a particular double star nay be resolved by a scope of given aperture and at what magnification. Finally, there is a Double Star Separation Calculator which can be used to determine the apparent separation of close double stars encountered during observing sessions.

All these influences, of course, portend difficulties when it comes to the main subject of this book – observing all 110 deep sky studies attributed to Charles Messier in a single night, but there others as well. Unlike DSS type, right ascension, declination and surface brightness, some factors are more conditional and transient, while others are under a greater degree of the observer's control. These include:

Of all factors influencing view quality, the one most subject to the astronomer's immediate control is gaining experience under the night sky. To do so, there’s nothing better than implementing a detailed plan including a large variety of deep sky studies for eyepiece identification and study. Once a plan is implemented, there’s no better test of skills than to find a large number of reasonably difficult DSSs over a short period of time. To assist in this, we amateurs enjoy a special legacy passed down from an early figure of astronomical investigation.

While seeking fame and fortune as a comet hunter, Charles Messier compiled a list of over 100 comet-like objects. Messier's list is made up of an engaging and varied mix of DSS's which can be found by any diligent amateur possessing a quality 65mm or larger aperture scope. Even so, but for three particular objects (#'s 74, 76 & 91 on the Messier list), 107 can be found with such a modest scope - even on nights of unexceptional virtue.

Finally, it just so happens that every study on Messier’s list can theoretically be seen on a single night. This is possible because no object on that list is positioned later than right ascension hour 23 and minute 24 or before hour 0 and minute 42. (Another factor impacting this is that some Messiers are circumpolar.) Thus, for a period of 1 hour and 18 minutes, there’s a gap in the sky where Charles Messier’s list includes nothing. Given the right time of year, a moonless night, an observing site free of light pollution and physical obstructions, and a reasonably southern observing locale, all 110 studies can be viewed during a single ten hour observing period. In fact, there’s a growing body of amateurs drawn to just such a venture. Such amateurs are known to participate in a Messier Marathon.

For me, observing the entire Messier list was a major goal after my return to practical amateur astronomy. Observing meant more than simply finding them. I wanted to record my observations in as much detail as possible. Because how a study looks is largely based on sky conditions, I made an effort to capture as much information about the phase of the Moon, time of night, sky transparency and stability as possible. To these non-equipment related factors, I added aperture and type instrument plus magnification used. In some instances, I even did sketches (or eyepiece impressions). As you read Messier Year in a Night, you’ll have an opportunity to see through my eyes in word and sketch.

Due to the many variables associated with a Messier Marathon, it’s unlikely all 110 deep sky studies attributed to the early centuries of telescopic investigation will be seen over the course of any given night. Compressing one-hundred seventy years of discovery into a single observing session is a bit much to ask even today. Yet the attempt to participate in such a venture is honorable enough in itself – whether successful or not.

There is, of course, more to a Messier Marathon than finding, seeing and checking off one deep sky study after another. To fully appreciate the experience means fusing an almost mystical appreciation for the Night Sky with the technical skills needed to confidently ‘track up’ one study after another. To do so, the headlong rush for achievement must also be tempered by depth of engagement in the moment. Although running a Messier Marathon may be hard enough, walking one may be more difficult still. In participating in such a venture, keep in mind that the best way to make God laugh is to tell Him your plans for the future…

Amateur astronomy isn't for everyone. But unlike other interests, it very well could be. After all, there’s plenty of sky to go around. And to enjoy the sky doesn't take much - to start, just the power of human sight and ability to keep looking up.

The idea of ‘looking up’ isn’t a modern phenomenon. In fact, the ancients were probably more familiar with the heavens than most of us today. Before the telescope, the Universe was a much smaller place. All it took was a few simple instruments – such as the astronomical quadrant and astrolabe, to take a full measure of the heavens. That some astral denizens could be relied on to stay pretty much where they were left and others – such as Sun, Moon, planets and occasional foreboding comet didn’t, was pretty much the end of it.

Astronomy has become very sophisticated since Galileo first publicized his earliest telescopic adventures in the Starry Messenger. Astronomers now monitor the Universe across broad swaths of the electromagnetic spectrum. From radio-frequency point source galaxies to cosmically pervasive microwave background radiation, through infrared, visible light, ultraviolet, x-rays and short-lived gamma ray bursts, astronomers see it all.

Learning about the cosmos is one thing. Taking the time to observe it, another. Most folks will tarry over the occasional newspaper article announcing a new astronomical insight or discovery. Far fewer will set out on a cold winter’s night bearing a carload of carefully selected astronomical equipment to a distant lonely mountain retreat. Yet appreciating the night sky and its many denizens is akin to enjoying any work of art. Anyone captivated by a painting by Van Gogh, statue by Roden, sonata by Beethoven, play by Shakespeare or poem by Tennyson, can certainly appreciate a constellation wrought by the hand of God...

Unlike works woven by human hand, the pattern of the heavens is more difficult to distinguish. The ancients put their imaginations to task seeking order where none existed. Lines drawn between brighter stars in connect-the-dot fashion gave shape to the heavens. Not surprisingly, the many figures so delineated looked very much like things the people of the era were familiar with. Practical astronomy begins with knowledge of constellations forged by the imaginations of the ancients. Today, it has led us to the abyss beyond rational thought…

It’s easy to get a sense of what was involved in work done by early astrologers and astronomers. All you have to do is set an alarm clock and awaken at say 2am on a cloudless night then step outside without turning on any more lights than needed to safely navigate the kitchen. If you happen to live somewhere outside the many major sprawling metropoli most of us reside in you might see a scene like this:

With the invention of the telescope, things got more complex. Certainly, work done by the ancients giving order to things celestial provided a solid observing platform for Galileo, Messier and other observers to stand on. But that foundation now had to support the complexity of what proved to be often oversized, under-mounted, poorly crafted telescopes that showed things on a larger, but not necessarily brighter, scale. Messier’s challenge, in particular, was to tease out of the eyepiece the faint light of sometimes hard to distinguish ‘nebulosa’. To get a sense of what was involved, have a look at the following telescopic field of view:

Modern astronomy has taken things much, much further. Astronomers no longer poise observing eyes over eyepieces. (In fact, should they do so their eyes would literally ‘pop out’, since their main observing platform swings around the Earth in the vacuum of space.) Today, we image the heavens using charge coupled devices (CCD’s) feeding electrical signals to computers and create time composite views of incredibly distant studies. Consider this 3 arc minute apparent sized (1/10th of a moon) region of the constellation Fornax. Not one of the 10,000 galaxies present is visible using Earth-based telescopes. This particular visible light/near-infrared image shows us a small part of how the Universe looked not long after the first galaxies took form some 13.3 billion years ago.

Such images as the HST Ultra Deep Field have revealed to astronomers that both sublime order and unfathomable chaos exists in the Universe. Yet, a few simple physical laws are thought to account for all things great and small seen in the night sky. Those same laws, however, begin to break down when accounting things infinitely large and infinitesimally small. At the extremes, sub-atomic particles and the Big Bang Universe are equally incomprehensible. Meanwhile, what can’t be accounted for in strict detail can largely be explained in abstract. From super-massive black holes to tiny bits of comet debris, the way in which matter and energy react to populate the Universe with things luminous and substantial makes more than a little sense. Yet describing the many properties and behaviors of things is only the half of astronomy, there’s much of wonder and mystery to things cosmic as well.

Like any work of art, a fine appreciation of the night sky is something that can be cultivated. Yet unlike objets d’art, there’s something primordial and immediately evocative about the heavens defying any need for preparation or cultivation. To simply head out on a clear night and stand in the midst of a grassy field far from city lights is enough to conjure up a spirit of astral romance etched indelibly in the stuff of our inner beings. This shouldn’t be surprising. Our very bodies are formed of primordial essences sprung into existence with the very birth of the Universe itself. Later, some of these same essences were re-configured within the hearts of long-dead stars. Today, they live on through each and every one of us as well as every creature and all inanimate substance. What gives life to things material is light. And light, in its diverse frequencies has largely informed our understanding of the Universe.

Given that each and every one of us has an inherent love of the night sky, why is it that so few express it? And how is it that such a grand and universal pass-time has become appreciated by the few?

The answer isn’t far to seek. In a sense, we’re all engaged deeply in things cosmic. We live lives of quiet desperation constantly pursuing star stuff. Everything we see, feel, touch, smell and taste originates in the Great Beyond. And it’s the struggle to acquire and put star stuff to personal and collective advantage that demands most of our attention. Because of that preoccupation, we have little time or energy left for the greater universe out of which things took form. Amazing isn't it? The very source of all the many things of this world; that vast vault of the cosmos, is ignored due to the more immediate demands placed on us by the mundane star-stuff around us.

For thousands of years human beings have practiced ‘the oldest of the sciences’. Civilizations, past and present, have devoted significant portions of their star stuff, offering it up on the altar of the Earth as a sacrifice to the Deity of the Heavens. Such sacrifices have been entrusted to a men and women who took up the sacred venture of recording astronomical events, assigning names, describing behaviors and predicting events and outcomes.

Such priest-astronomers practiced a complex craft. And like any such craft, they did so from sacred sites. And because they chose to be effective in their practice, specialized knowledge, equipment, tools and skills were required. Meanwhile, in order to improve individual and collective chances of success, star craft demanded much of interaction and collaboration among practitioners.

Running alongside the golden thread of professional astronomy is the silver thread of amateur endeavor. Unlike professional practitioners, amateurs are not directly supported by the civilization in which they reside. The sacrifice of star stuff made by society in the form of the great observatories and their staffs is made by the individual amateur out of his or her own wherewithal. Because of this, equipment is often modest - but rarely crude. Training is minimal and usually self-applied. Skills unrefined - but enthusiastically cultivated.

Amateur astronomy is involved in something professional astronomers no longer practice. Amateurs put eye to eyepiece capturing light originating from things well beyond the Earth. While amateur astronomers observe, professional astronomers write complex proposals and lay out observing plans intended to probe specific questions about the Universe. If fortunate, a specific proposal is later funded by a government, university, philanthropy or organization. Once funded, time is scheduled for an observing run using towering equipment placed on lonely mountain tops overlooking far distant horizons free of a major part of the Earth’s atmosphere and much of the light pollution generated by towns and cities. In using such equipment, astronomers see computer-based time-composite images of what their instruments reveal on glowing computer monitors. But it’s rare for a professional astronomer to actually intercept light directly from the night sky with their own eyes. Amateur astronomers rarely observe based on plans laid down months earlier. They typically set aside time in their otherwise work-a-day lives to gather up personal equipment while keeping an eye to sky conditions and weather reports. Some well-situated amateurs enjoy the luxury of hand-carrying small fully-mounted telescopes out of the garage to the backyard on a moment’s notice. Others pack large vans or even tug along whole trailers bearing fully mounted telescopes. Then it’s off for several hours, or even days, of driving to distant locales – the higher and further from city lights, the better…

Little orthodoxy exists among amateurs. There’s no one way to observe the night sky. Nor are there any particular types of astronomical venture holding universal appeal. Some amateurs are content to recognize and trace the great patterns of bright and dim stars that inform the constellations by eye or binocular. Others turn small but well-figured telescopes on Moon and planets. Still others take up star-splitting. Others derive satisfaction in the quiet company of a few brighter deep sky studies. Others seek out the most difficult denizens possible, deliberately pushing themselves and their equipment to the limit.

But all astronomers, amateur and professional, share a common legacy. That legacy begins with the ancients framing the constellations and naming the stars and planets, passed along by the earliest efforts to atlas star positions, then onto the early figures of telescopic observation: Galileo, Huygens, Cassini, Hodierna, Lacaille, de Chéseaux and Messier…

Charles Messier was born 10th of 12 children to Nicolas Messier and Francoise Grandblaise on June 26, 1730 in Badonviller, Lorraine, France. At age 11, Charles father Nicolas died. Three years later, Charles viewed his very first comet – the Great Six-tailed Comet of 1744. This and a subsequent astronomical event (the annular solar eclipse of July 25th, 1748) left such a strong impression on young Charles that he was advised by Nicholas Delisle, chair of astronomy at the College de France, to take up a career as an astronomer. On May 6, 1753, Messier made his first fully documented telescopic observation (of a transit of the sun by Mercury) from Delisle’s Hotel de Cluny observatory in Paris France.

In 1757, Messier began a quest to see Halley’s Comet make its first predicted return to the inner solar system while still lurking well outside Earth orbit. In so doing, Messier made his first independent deep sky discovery – that of the Great Andromeda Galaxy’s dwarf attendant – M32. (M32 had been previously seen by Le Gentil in 1749.)

It wasn’t until early 1759 that Messier succeeded in locating Halley’s Comet. (He was preceded a month earlier by German farmer and amateur astronomer J.G. Palitzsch who first saw Halley’s Comet Christmas Night, 1758.)

One year later (January 26, 1760), Charles discovered his first comet. During the same period, Messier independently discovered M1 (Crab Nebula) and began to suspect that much confusion was possible between fuzzy moving things (such as comets) and fuzzy fixed things (such as nebulae).

It wasn’t until May 3, 1764, that Messier made his first original discovery of a fixed nebulosity. At the age of 34, a not-so-young Charles came across globular cluster M3 in the constellation Canes Venatici. It’s probable this discovery jump-started a deliberate quest to find and catalog as many nebulae as possible. As a result in 1774, under the auspices of the French Académie des Sciences, Messier published his first list of 45 deep sky studies. Although Messier discovered thirteen original comets over a period spanning forty-one years (1760-1801), his true legacy is bound up with the Messier catalog of deep sky studies. Published in 1781, the final Messier list (augmented by nine undocumented discoveries largely made by Messier’s observing partner Pierre François André Méchain, 1744 - 1804) comprises a body of work now reprised by many first time amateur astronomers as their first goal of achievement in observing the deep heavens.

There are many approaches amateur astronomers can take to retrace Messier’s steps. One is to simply devote an entire observing year to finding each and every Messier study. By finding a new one each evening and re-observing others familiarity improves. A more adventurous approach is to simply head out whenever possible with large astronomical binoculars in hand and scan the entire heavens looking for things unusual. Such an approach is likely to turn up several hundred deep sky studies, half of which are likely to be found on Messier’s list. Several Messiers, however, are simply too small in apparent size to be recognized as anything other than faint stars. An equal number are probably too faint for the inexperienced eye to recognize. But a systematic exploration using 10x60 or larger binoculars could reveal as many as 100 Messiers and equally as many other “Messier-class” DSSs.

However you choose to become familiar with Messier’s legacy, there may come a night when you attempt to find as many of them in the sky as possible. This could be as informal as going out on any clear night and tracking down each one lying above the horizon (a mini-messier marathon) or actually pulling an all-nighter on one of the three nights each year when all 110 studies manage to avoid Sun and Moon. (Interestingly, that such a thing is possible in a single night is thought to have been first noted by another comet hunter – contemporary amateur astronomer Don Macholz of Colfax, California.)

Whatever approach is taken, modern amateurs have the advantage of far better telescopes than Messier had in his day. Messier used a variety of fixed magnification instruments ranging from 1 to 32 feet in focal length and 3 to 7.5 inches in aperture. Smaller scopes were mainly non-color corrected single lens refractory telescopes. The largest was a speculum mirrored Gregorian reflector. His best instruments were all 3.5 inch F-10 achromatic refractors of roughly 120x magnification. Since the two-lens (doublet) achromatic lens design came along late in his observing career, most of Messier’s observations were done using instruments with the effective light-gathering capacity of a modern 2.5 inch achromatic refractor. Such a scope would normally reveal stars as faint as magnitude 11.5. Given the limited eyepiece fields of the time, its likely Messier saw no more than one quarter of a degree of the sky at once. (This amounts to one-half the apparent size of the full moon.) Such a small field may account for the more than three-hundred deep sky studies that might otherwise have been found by Messier and Pierre Méchain using comparable equipment today.

Of the 110 deep sky studies now found in Messier’s list, 42 may be unequivocally ascribed to him as original discoverer. 22 were first turned up by Pierre Méchain. Three entries were known since antiquity. Another (M31) was first described by Al Sufi in the Middle Ages. The earliest telescopic discovery making its way to Messier’s list was that of Nicholas-Claude Fabri de Peiresc who encountered M42 – the Great Nebula in Orion – in 1610. 9 entries not included in Messier’s 1781 catalog were added based on the scholarship of later astronomers. 8 came several decades after Messier’s final publication. M110, the final addition to the list, was actually an original discovery of Messier’s (in 1773) but for whatever reason was never measured for sky position and didn’t find its way into the 1781 publication.

Charles Messier was neither the first nor last astronomer to make a list of the many denizens of the night sky. Yet his list has managed to capture the imagination of countless amateur astronomers. As long as the night sky remains dark, today and future generations of observers will no doubt find themselves retracing Charles Messier’s footsteps across the heavens.

I begin my Messier tour by selecting a time of year when astronomical night lasts for close to eleven hours. It must also correspond to that season when the Sun passes through the middle of the Messier right ascension gap (of 78 minutes). Finally, it is preferable that the Sun take a position closer to the last object to view - because that study (M52) is circumpolar and can be viewed at any time during the night (while DSOs further from the pole often need the benefit of full darkness to be detected). So I want the Sun to be somewhere between hours 23 and 0 if at all possible.

The month that resolves all these limitations is March - a time when the Sun sets on a twelve hour day, and the evening sky is passably dark an hour after set and a half hour before rise.

Polaris: Our very own pole star is at center of small group of stellar confreres. One half-hour after sunset, I find the second magnitude primary using the finderscope. This allows me to precisely align the right ascension and declination axis of the mount. (Something that is essential to successfully "star hop" throughout the night.) Dropping in the 70x eyepiece, I can just make out Polaris-B (Polaris's brightest, ninth magnitude companion) with slightly averted vision some 18 arc-seconds southwest of the primary. The fact that I can make out the dim companion so soon after sunset bodes well for sky transparency as the evening progresses...

NOTE: With the equatorial mount now oriented toward Polaris something very practical is in place. If I push on the right ascension axis of my scope only, I can be sure that any two studies (say a star and a galaxy) that share the same declination (degrees north or south of the celestial equator) can be reliably found in the low-power eyepiece field. Meanwhile if I only push on the declination axis I can accomplish the same task based on any two studies on – or near – the same right ascension. Because of this one alignment and the use of an equatorial mount I carry a lot of confidence in my ability to track down the more difficult studies from Messiers list throughout the night – something that will be especially important when I enter the galaxy fields of Virgo and Coma Berenices around midnight.

Castor: Meanwhile above and overhead, I can just make out a pair of first magnitude stars. The pair (Castor and Pollux) is separated by about five degrees oriented along a southeast to northwest axis. Of course, neither has taken on any real brilliance, so I have to work hard to see them out without the finderscope. It is northwesterly Alpha Geminorium that is of especial interest. 1.6 magnitude Castor actually consists of two second magnitude stars separated by a little more than 3 arc-seconds. On this particular night at 70x magnification, I can see two pearlescent virtual disks separated by a thin hairline of space - another sign of fine seeing conditions.

In the same 120x field is a faint 12.3 magnitude field star (just northeast of the Iota triple). While viewing the main group, I make frequent checks for this particular star. Once it can be held with averted vision, the sky has become dark enough to proceed. And just before 7:00, I am able to hold the field star confidently. The sky has darkened to the point where 4th magnitude stars can now be seen direct without the scope.

One final double is on tap before I begin my tour in earnest: Gamma Ceti. The sky is now just dark enough to make out a faint semi-circle of third and fourth magnitude stars toward the southwest horizon. Further southwest at the base of the "bonnet" formed by this semi-circle is a pair of third magnitude stars. Of the two, the northern is Gamma - a close (2.5 arc second) disparate magnitude (3.6 and 6.2) pair requiring 120x for clean resolution. The fact that I can split the pair suggests that good sky conditions extend down as low as twenty-five degrees above the horizon – it also tells me that I’ve found the right star!

Now despite the fact that true sky-dark has yet to arrive, I begin my long journey into night...

My first Messier find needs be something especially bright (so it can be found against that "dusky" sky). It should also be located near a group of relatively bright, and easily recognizable stars. Complicating this is the fact that it must be located in that dangerous region of the sky to the southwest where DSOs tend to disappear quickly into the "murk" just above the horizon. Based on these factors, I choose...

M77 Cetus, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.9, Size: 6x5' RA:2:42.7, Dec:-00:01, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

At 7:00pm at the time of the vernal equinox, from 40 degrees north latitude, M77 lies some 20 degrees above the southwest horizon, some one degree southeast of Delta Ceti. Given its location, the brightest portion of M77 displays a visual brightness of roughly the 11th magnitude. Using a one degree field 60X eyepiece, a four inch refractor should just show the core as a "fuzzy star", Little else would be possible. Once found, a larger scope (let say 150mm MCT "Argo") would show a 2 or 3 arc-minute diameter round nebulosity whose bright central core rapidly dissipates into the grey of the early evening sky.

Earlier in the season - say this time of night in late January - I would also take the time to track down faint (magnitude 10.6) largish (8 by 3 arc-minutes) elongated spiral galaxy NGC1055. One reason: NGC1055 lies about one degree northwest of M77 and forms a flat triangle with Delta. Although this 13.7 magnitude average surface brightness (ASB) galaxy may just be found with a 100 millimeter scope under superb conditions, low sky position, and the early evening hour rules it out this late in its season. One thing of note, if I wanted to get a view of NGC1055 comparable to 12.3 ASB M77, Argo would have to double to some 300mm's in aperture!

After viewing M77, I locate the two brightest stars of Aries and follow their line southwest and center the finderscope on 4th magnitude Eta Piscium. Switching to the main tube, I sweep one degree east to:

2 . M74 Pisces, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.2, Size: 10X9' RA:1:36.7, Dec: 15:47, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

M74 lacks the bright central core displayed by Seyfert Galaxy M77. Given its position some 20 degrees above the western horizon, the brightest visible portion of M74 displays an adjusted surface brightness of magnitude 12. This makes detection difficult. Even through 150mm Argo, I am fortunate to pick out a vague light mound. This seen while sweeping the region east of Eta at 50X. The fact that I located it at all is hugely satisfying in itself. There is little more to be viewed under the circumstances. Like M77, M74 is best viewed around the time of the winter solstice when it hangs high above the southern horizon at skydark.

Low to the northwest, I locate Beta Andromedae. Had the sky been darker, or season earlier, I would turn the 70x eyepiece on Beta then nudge the 2nd magnitude star out of the field (to the southeast). Like NGC1055, 10.1 magnitude / 4 arc-minute sized NGC404 gives a definitive view through a 12 inch instrument. But at lower magnifications, Argo shows a surprising amount of central condensation. Even with bright Beta doing all it can to claim the entire view for itself.

But due to the twin effects of low sky position and early evening hour, I choose to follow the line made by 2nd magnitude Beta with 4th magnitude Mu and double that same distance. Switching to the finderscope, a vague patch of light can be made out some 15 degrees above the northwest horizon. Switching to the main tube:

M31 Andromeda, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 3.5, Size: 160x40' RA:00:42.7, Dec:42:16, Optimal Scope Size: 50mm.

Despite low sky position, The elongated core of M31 and it's bright extensions northwest and southeast are easily caught. However, little sense of surface brightness variations (texture) is possible. Just a general blend of light from the bright core dissipating evenly throughout the 1 degree field of view. Little of M31 is visible to really engage the eye. No dark lane truncating it to the north. Low sky position has bled visual interest out of this most extraordinary of deepsky wonders. Again I look forward to seeing M31, high and to the east in more propitious autumn skies.

Had the month been October say, and skies especially fine, I would take the time to turn up the only "knot of brightening" in M32 visible through Argo. That knot (NGC206) may be seen some 45 arc-minutes from the galaxy's brilliant core within it's southwestern spiral arm. This small (2 by 1 arc minute) "light mound" is a tough catch. Smaller, short focus scopes (such as Argo's 80mm fast achromat stable mate the Pup) have just as good a chance of turning it up as larger long-focus scopes such as Argo. The key to this lies in the idea of image scale. The Pup's lesser light is concentrated into a smaller area. While Argo's greater light is spread out and diffuse over a larger region. NGC206 itself requires scopes of twice Argo's aperture to be really appreciated in the eyepiece. In general though, it takes very dark nights of superb seeing to really appreciate this fine 13th magnitude concentration of bright stars along our sister-galaxy's spiral axis.

So after a quick, hopeful look in the general direction of NGC206, I shift my view due south of M31 core and take in:

M32 Andromeda, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.2, Size: 8x6' RA:00:42.7, Dec: 40:52, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

Like M77 before it, M32 gives the appearance of a fuzzy star-like core bleeding off into the murk. Again I recall the bright contrasty views seen of this small elliptical galaxy in Autumn. A view which looks very much like a small, distant, and intensely concentrated globular cluster at lower magnifications and begins to reveal ellipticity only as magnification increases.

M110 Andromeda, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.0 Size: 17x10' RA:00:40.4, Dec: 41:41, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

If M32 resembles M77, M110 echos M74. Unlike M74, I am just able to discern M110's large, low surface brightness ellipse with direct vision. Again, low sky position and the early hour, has robbed this fine study of its grandeur...

Earlier in Autumn, M110 would make a fine study through 150mm Argo. In many ways M110 actually is more interesting than its brighter confrere: M32. Its markedly elliptical shape is quite apparent and easily seen to orient along a north-south axis. A star-like point is hinted at on eye movement, but no distinct "core region" is seen. Unlike M32, luminosity blends continuously outward into the darkness of space. However, the western frontier does give a sense of "edge". (Although nothing like that seen where the dark lane breaks M31's northern face.) M110's also suggests a northern extension longer and narrower than the southern. This differ's from M32 which (at higher magnifications) extends toward M31 rather than away from it. Finally, I might notice a tendency for M110 to flare northwest on eye movement. Despite these hints of detail, M110 is best viewed through eight inch instruments, whose extra .8 magnitudes of reach reveals plainly what is only suggested in a six inch.

Again, and earlier in the season, I wouldn't have been content to view just these three main members of the M31 family. Two fainter satellite dwarf ellipticals are possible on a deep-sky kind of night. Both can be tracked down by first centering on M110 then shifting some five degrees due north to Omicron Cassiopaeia. By shifting Omicron due east about a degree, the more susceptible of the two galaxies (NGC185) can be seen forming a low triangle with a wide pair of 8th magnitude stars. Again shifting NGC185 slightly south and continuing another degree west may also reveal the more difficult NGC147 southwest of a large "rhombus" of 9th magnitude stars. Although it is possible to turn up the brighter of the two regularly in both 150mm Argo and the 80mm Pup, the sky must be a half-magnitude deeper to make out NGC147 definitively through Argo and a full-magnitude deeper through the Pup.

Thus ends my first swing to the northwest. Had the sky been less transparent, I would probably have made one more attempt to locate low surface brightness M74 in the region of Eta Piscium. But due to the fine sky, this was unnecessary. Instead, I head north and east to circumpolar Cassiopeia. Centering the main tube on Delta, I sweep the main tube one degree northeast to:

M103 Cassiopeia, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 7.4, Size: 6' RA: 1:33.2, Dec:60.42, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

M103 is a small (5 arc minutes in diameter) group of 15 to 20 stars whose brightest components give the general appearence of a straightened out "Little Dipper". This particular dipper's handle points northwest and it's brightest half dozen stars begin at around magnitude 10. A sprinkling of 12th (and dimmer magnitude stars) may be seen to form a small chorus of lights through four inch and larger instruments.

While in the region of M103, and as an assist in locating my next Messier study (Planetary Nebula M76) I drop by 16 arc minute sized, magnitude 7.1 open cluster NGC663. NGC663 is larger in both apparent size and star count than M103. It is easily located about a degree and a half slightly north but mostly east of its more famous neighbor.. Through a three inch scope, some 2 dozen stars are possible but unlike M103, none really stand out. About half a dozen, on-the-edge stars form a crescent with a "bowl" oriented toward the southwest. Through six inch Argo, I would make out a "shower of lights" consisting of maybe thirty or forty mostly 11th and 12th magnitude stars of more or less uniform brightness.

Having centered NGC663 in the finder, all I need do is slew 10 degrees south and center on 4th magnitude Theta Persei. Using the main tube at lower power (say 70x), I sweep 1 degree north to:

M76 Perseus, Type: Planetary Nebula, Magnitude: 11.5, Size: 2x1' RA: 1:42.4, Dec:51.34, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

On this time and date, M76 lies about 35 degrees above the northwest horizon. 35 degrees seems a lot compared to earlier studies, but this low surface brightness planetary is a challenge for just about any scope when outside the skies middle third (the 60 degrees of sky centred directly overhead). Because of this, it might just be found using a garden-variety 100mm scope. Although I can acquire this vague, figure-eight shaped nebulosity direct, even when well positioned, its dumbbell-like shape is rarely seen without extremely averted vision. Personally, I am surprised that Monsiour Messier was able to even discover this very dim planetary with his poorly shaped and modestly apertured equipment. No doubt there were times of less than ideal seeing when he himself struggled to find it again and because of this may very well have even doubted its existence.

If I am at all surprised that Charles Messier was able to locate this dim 11.5 magnitude double-planetary, I am more surprised that he failed to turn up the not-so-nearby double-cluster that lies within the bounds of that same heroic constellation. I speak, of course, of the famed "Double-Cluster": NGC869 & NGC884. By 7:30, the night sky has darkened enough to show this wonderful pair as two faint patches of luminosity a third the way between the outstetched hand of Perseus (Eta Persei) and the lower star of the back of Cassiopeia's throne (Delta Cassiopaeia). Despite sharing a similarity of size (that of the full moon) and brightness (magnitudes ~4.5) these two give an oddly dissimilar view when compared within the same field at low magnifications through the 80mm wide-field Pup. One, (NGC869) shows a great deal of central concentration. While the other, (NGC884) seems to be caught in the act of dispatching many of it's numerous 9th and 10th magnitude member stars throughout space.

Having finished my reflections, I slew Argo due south 20 degrees to Alpha Triangulum. And through the finder, shift slightly north and three degrees west to:

M33 Triangulum, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 5.7, Size: 60X35' RA:01:33.9, Dec: 30:39, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

And of course, had it been late fall or early winter, this large, but low (13.7) surface brightness member of our own local group of galaxies would present a decent view through 150mm Argo - but only on dark sky nights. Any semblence of light pollution, haze, or lunacy renders it a "huge" disappointment. (Through just about any sized scope.) Ah, but on a deep night (say nearby 5.4 magnitude Epsilon Trianguli can be held unaided averted), the galaxy shows perceptible core-brightening and whirling face-on spiral arms extending east and west. On even darker nights these same dimly luminous arms can be seen to swirl off south and north respectively. By following the sweep of the brighter, northwestern spiral arm, it would also be possible to inspect a definite brightening: NGC604. Like NGC206 in M31, the view would be that of a detailed portion of another distant "island universe". Unlike NGC206, NGC604 is much more susceptible to view through small scopes - esepcially when the observer knows exactly where to look, and what to look for...

Skydark has descended. From now to dawn, I'm in my "deepsky comfort zone". For now the sky has fully embraced the stars. Though there will be other occasions when I must turn Argo to light upon setting studies, I now work a part of the sky that is out of that particular danger.

Although my next study is never particularly well-placed, it can be found by first locating 2nd and 3rd magnitude Alpha and Beta Leporis beneath the Hunter's feet. Pointing the barrel of the scope the same distance separating the two on a line south-southwest, I switch over to the finder and look for a faint fuzzy star - but no luck. Again low sky position (some 15 degrees above the southwest horizon) has made detection difficult. So switching to the main tube and one degree field eyepiece (50x), I use a figure-eight search pattern to locate:

M79 Lepus, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 8.0, Size: 9' RA: 5.24.5, Dec:-24 33, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

On such a night M79 would display a 3 arc-minute sized irregularly-shaped core. Surrounding this, and distributed outward to a suprising distance, 150mm Argo would reveal perhaps a dozen 13 plus magnitude outlying cluster members. Few other globular clusters show such a gap between core and resolvable stars on the margins.

Confidently, I slew the scope to the middle of the Hunter's dangling sword. A quick correction through the finder, followed by the switch to the main tube reveals:

M42 Orion, Type: Bright Nebula, Magnitude: 4.0, Size: 66x60' RA: 5.35.4, Dec:-5 27, Optimal Scope Size: 50mm.

I switch over to 120X. Just past the Trapezium lies a "cliff of darkness". Here the more or less uniform brightness of the nebula's core gives way to beautiful, undululating, tenous folds of detail. A scene as engaging as any possible through the eyepiece of amateur equipment anywhere in the heavens.

After exploring the curdled rifts of the bright nebula, I return to the Trapezium. With the least effort, the faint point-like glimmer of a fifth trapezium member is possible - projecting away from the two dimmer Trapezium members to the west. A sixth "F" member can just be seen just trailing the brightest of the four stars to the east. So on this particular night I can just hold E, and strain at F while the Celestial Hunter drifts south and west along with the Earth's implacable rotation.

Switching back to 50X, the "eagle-like wings" of dark nebulae now capture attention. This "dark expanse" is every bit as striking as the bright core that it flanks. Had the night been even darker a hint of "ruddy pink" is possible at the fringes. Glorious!

In the same field (slightly north and east) is a 5th magnitude star ensconsed in nebulosity. This is:

M43 Orion, Type: Bright Nebula, Magnitude: 7.0, Size: 20x15' RA: 5.35.6, Dec:- 5 16, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

Due to its neighbor's magnificence, M43 is easily overlooked. But almost half of its 20X15 arc-minute extent can be caught directly. Frankly most observers see M43 as simply a recrudescence of bright nebulosity erupting through the dark obscuration that borders M42 to the northwest. On extreme aversion of sight, M43 nearly doubles in apparent size. On this particular evening through six inch Argo at 50x I am just able to directly hold the "nautilus" shape that makes M43 especially worth dwelling on.

Drawing myself away from the siren call of M42 and M43, I locate Zeta Orionis. Dwelling on the Zeta region momentarily in the main tube, I easily make out the glow of nebulosity around one of two 8th magnitude stars just southeast. This is NGC2023. I can also make out the dark lane bisecting the two brightest lobes of NGC2024. On the very best seeing nights, the tripartite nature of this dim reflection nebula is revealed in all it's "subtle magnificence". The Flame Nebula is one of those "Cheshire Cat" denizens of the night sky, whose beauty is enhanced immensely by its coy susceptibility.

Like many of the brighter stars, the ancients bequeathed a name on Zeta Orionis: Alnitak. But such a name is not the only thing to mark its uniqueness. Alnitak's light is actually the blended luminosity of two stars (magnitudes 2 and 4) separated by less than three arc seconds. A third, dimmer, line-of-sight star, can be seen in the vacinity. This magnitude 9.5 "come" can just be held one arc-minute from the brighter, closer pair at 50x. By dropping in the 120x eyepiece, all three stars are clearly visible. The brighter pair showing two unevenly sized virtual disks neatly separated by a pencil thin line of space, while the fainter third star opposes the dimmer of the closer pair to the north.

Returning to the finder, I slew due north two and a half degrees to a 6th mag star (between a pair of more distant and brighter 5th mag stars). Through the main tube at 70X, I continue two degrees due east to:

M78 Orion, Type: Bright Nebula, Magnitude: 8.0, Size: 8x6' RA: 5.46.7, Dec: 00 03, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

It's now about 7:45. The sky is visibly darker overhead. But even during this last 15 minutes the spinning earth has noticeably shifted the position of the stars. I peer due south to pick out 1st magnitude Procyon on the central meridian. Centering Procyon in the 7x35mm finder, I slew due south twenty degrees to position the brighter of two nebulous patches in the crosshairs:

M47 Puppis, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 4.5, Apparent Size: 30' RA: 07 36.6, Dec:- 14 30, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

M47 is at greatest northern extension at this hour. The cluster contains a dozen or so scattered 7th or 8th magnitude stars oriented north-south across a half-degree of sky. Perhaps five dozen dimmer stars are seen distributed in small groups. A 10 arc-second, 8th magnitude double-star takes a post slightly west of the center of the field. The largest group of brighter stars accompany the double. Although M47 is easily caught in the finderscope, it's neighbor, some one degree to the southeast, is more difficult:

M46 Puppis, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 6.1, Apparent Size: 27' RA: 7 41.8, Dec:-14 49, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

While enjoying this lovely cluster, I manage to catch a patch of nebulosity near an 11th magnitude star about 10 arc-minutes northeast of M46 core. Due to the presence of so many stars in the field, NGC2428 is a challenge to hold visually through a 150mm scope at 50x. Despite this, the 10.1 magnitude one arc-minute sized planetary "ring" is a special treat especially when you consider the lovely field of stars that frame it.

Despite an inner commitment to avoid haste in making this tour, I still feel a bit "pressed for time". Had this not been the case and before completing my southern descent through Puppis, I would have dropped three degrees due south of M46 to eleventh magnitude planetary nebula NGC2440. There I'd have the pleasure of a high power view of a fine quarter arc-minute sized blue-green wraith of luminosity surrounding a bright central core.

M93 Puppis, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 6.2, Apparent Size: 22' RA: 7 44.6, Dec:-23 52, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

M93, like M47 is easily seen in the finder. Its sharply rectangular appearence resolves to a flattened letter X in the main tube. The X is made up of group of about a dozen 8 plus magnitude stars. These orient northeast to southwest. The cluster appears broken by dark intervening nebulosity. A swatch of dimmer stars "hooks" off the southeastern end of the X. Fewer stars are seen than in M46. Although many are brighter than the brightest seen in the earlier cluster.

The early evening challenges are behind me. It's now almost 8:00pm. The sky is as dark as it's going to get (except perhaps later after midnight as lights from nearby population centers toggle off). As night progresses, the ever-turning Earth will orient to one cosmic denizen after another. If I maintain the current rhythm, my optic nerve will be filled with the light of numerous "Opus Caelum". Each with it's own special appearance, character, and neighborhood of stars.

Overhead the sky is now inky indigo-black. Using unaided vision, stars to magnitude 5.5 can be seen in and near the bowl of the Big Dipper. This explains why some very difficult objects could be seen less than an hour after sunset. Hopefully, there's a good chance that other equally-difficult studies can be viewed successfully on the flip side of the night. But, its better to stay in the moment. To find one hundred nine DSO's in a single night means that a new study must be acquired every five or six minutes. Early in the evening, many threaten to fall over low trees to south and west. Later, toward morning, it's anyone's guess as to whether remaining "celestial stragglers" will outpace the first rays of the rising Sun.

Such a pace can make the challenge of celestial navigation a "fool's errand". For with mounting tension, uncertain skills easily become a comedy of errors. Guide stars can be mis-identified, east becomes west, eyepieces misapplied. All this is made more even more challenging by the fact that I must constantly offset the tendency to "find it and leave it". Tonight is not about ticking off a series of objects on a checklist. It's about becoming intimately aware of the progress of the night sky. Especially as that sky progresses through the seasons of the year. Surely, it is better to see a few studies well, than many in wild abandon...

Time to head north again. There to locate Gamma Andromedae. There to take pause to enjoy this lovely 10 arc-second separated yellow and "blue" double. Had I the time, I would also install the barlow lens and make an effort to resolve the bright yellow component as well. But at .5 arc-seconds, the best I might expect would be to see a slightly "distended" airy disk suggestive of two stars on the very limits of distinction.

Instead, and at 50x, I slew some three degrees east in hopes of garnering a look at the large (13 X 3 arc minute), faint (13.8 ASB), edge-on spectre of a galaxy NGC891. NGC891 is probably the number one argument any amateur astronomer can make to convince me, (an avowed scopist), that "aperture rules". For you see only on the darkest of nights, with Princess Andromeda well overhead, have I had the rapturous pleasure of contemplating the full extent of this spectral beauty through six inch Argo.

And true to form, I must abandon this incidental quest and continue my sweep. So taking up the view through the finder I continue another seven degrees east and slightly north to a faint glow against the night sky. There I center on:

M34 Perseus, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 5.2, Size: 35' RA: 2:42:0, Dec:42.47, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

M34 itself is seen as thirty or forty easily detected 10th and 11th magnitude stars. Most arrange in a "cruciform" pattern oriented along the north-south axis. Other bright stars encircle this cross.

I find myself intrigued by the "circumscribed cross" pattern. But again, due to low sky position, few of the nearly one hundred 10 - 13th magnitude stars possible within it (during its December season) are visible.

The rhythm is relentless. I am Salinger's "Catcher in the Rye", salvaging stars before they plunge over the cliff. I act as though I could detain them with my eye. But no, this is an impossibility. For even as I view the cluster the scope is shifted to track the motion.

Despite the constant westward march of the stars, I again turn south. There to locate the brightest star of the night sky - Sirius. From Sirius and through the finder, I drop 3 degrees due south to:

M41 Canis Major, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 4.5, Size: 38' RA: 6 46.0, Dec:-20 44, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

This brilliant open cluster is easily seen in the 7X35mm finder. (This despite the overpowering presence of -1.5 magnitude Sirius.) Interestingly, and irrespective of its "official" apparent size, M41 completely overflows the 50X 1 degree field. Several hundred 7 through 13th magnitude members are seen. In a smaller scope, and at lower magnification, the cluster takes on a "scarab" shape. Great arcs of stars suggesting "legs" may be seen. But not through Argo at 50x. Such expansive views are the special preserve of the wider field provided by the 80mm ShortTube Pup.

Looking up, I locate Sirius and Theta Canis Majoris to the northeast. Following the line formed by the two and extending it the same distance, I make out a trio of sixth magnitude stars oriented northeast. Centering on the middle star, I sweep 1 degree east to:

M50 Monoceros, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 5.9, Size: 16' RA: 7 02.8, Dec:- 8 23, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

Although M50 is just resolvable at high magnification (132X) in the 80mm Pup, several dozen 10 to 12 plus magnitude stars are easily caught at 50X in Argo. Bumping the magnification to 120X through 150mm Argo easily doubles the number of visible members. The additional magnification also plainly reveals M50's "averted three-petaled rose" shape. A shape not even suspected in the smaller apertured scope - even at it's highest possible magnification.

A quick jaunt north, I easily pick out a vaguely dipper-shaped asterism leading the "V" of Taurus across the sky.

M45 Taurus, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 1.2, Size: 110' RA: 3:47, Dec: 24.07, Optimal Scope Size: 50mm.

At 50X, Argo completely fails to reveal the essential unity of this very large, bright and open cluster of 3rd through 12th magnitude stars. In fact, the better view is through the finderscope. As such, a fine graceful arc of eight and ninth magnitude stars drops down from the northeast toward 3rd magnitude Alcyone. On any clear, dark night the 80mm Pup at 16X, shows considerable nebulosity extending well away from M45's brightest components. Argo's long focal ratio makes seeing such faint extended nebulosity less obvious. In sweeping over the Pleiades there is an almost palpable sense of texture to the background sky throughout the cluster.

Well east of the Pleiades, (but before Orion's uplifted club), I locate Zeta Tauri. After centering Zeta in the main tube, I sweep 1.5 degrees northwest to:

M1 Taurus, Type: Planetary Nebula, Magnitude: 8, Size: 6x4' RA: 5:34.5, Dec: 22.0, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

Planetary nebula M1 seems to show greater definition every time I visit. The planetary's core is considerably brighter than its frontier. An undefinable sense of "dissolution" can be seen at the limits. Like many deepsky objects viewed through amateur equipment, there tends to be a bit of disappointment about not making out the wispy, tenuous, filaments readily apparent in photographs and CCD images. But, on the very finest nights, they can be "sensed" without being seen. So through a truly dark sky, and even using quite modest equipment, there is more to Crab Nebula than "meets the eye".

After ingesting the Crab, I slew 8 degrees due east to 4th mag Eta Geminorium. Referencing the finderscope, I sweep 2 degrees northwest to find:

M35 Gemini, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 5.1, Size: 28' RA: 06 08.9, Dec:+24 20, Optimal Scope Size: 105mm.

Set in a rich field of stars, over one-hundred M35 members are visible in the 20 arc-minute or so sized region. In shape, the cluster appears rather rose-like. Unlike cluster M50, M35's petals lay face on. Numerous arcs of 10 to 12th magnitude stars spray out to various directions. Switching to 120X reveals many even dimmer stars in the cluster. To get a sense of how clusters like M35 might appear at much greater distances, I slowly sweep south and west. There, near the southwestern edge of M35, I see a 5 arc-minute swatch of luminosity: NGC2158. The brightest stars in this small cluster are of the 13th magnitude. Using 120X, I can just visually hold a half-dozen of it's brightest members. In there sum they form a vaguely "triangular" shape.

Eight degrees northwest is Beta Tauri, (the base star in Auriga's irregular pentagon). After centering Beta in the finder, I continue another five degrees due north to a 5&6th magnitude optical double (Phi Aurigae). Switching to the main tube, another degree north brings me to:

M38 Auriga, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 6.4, Size: 21' RA: 5:28.7, Dec: 35.50, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

Shifting a half degree north of M38 I take in a fine spray of about 2 dozen twelth and dimmer magnitude stars. Covering a region of about 7 arcmins, open cluster NGC1907 (at magnitude 8.2) is of a size with 8.6 magnitude NGC2158 near M35. However, this particular cluster appears much more soluable and is a better view for a six inch instrument. Both clusters really need the deeper reach afforded by 120x however.

Resuming the 50X eyepiece, I return to Phi Aurigae. From there a slow slew one degree east reveals a surprisingly bright and "globular-esque" nebula: NGC1931. This 11.3 magnitude 3 arc-minute study, is quite "round" in shape and sports a small group of stars in its midst. Two can be resolved at 120x through 150mm Argo. A third is hinted at. Larger scopes show a fourth. In fact, this particular bright nebula is probably in the early stellar nursery phase. Future amateurs - say some two or three million years hence - will probably rejoice in resolving a small, faint cluster comparable to the two NGC open clusters cited above.

M36 Auriga, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 6.0, Size: 12' RA: 5:36.1, Dec: 34 08, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

M36 gives the general appearance of a Rubric cube seen in semi-profile. Perhaps 30 stars are visible. All are 9th magnitude and dimmer. Its smaller apparent size warrants a look at 120X. At a higher magnification, a shift occurs and the stars take on a "stick figure" shape. This, as a group of about a dozen stars capture my attention within the center-west part of the cube. No single star dominates M36. Like M38, M36 lacks the kind of stellar-density that most appeals to me as an observer.

From M36 I slew one degree south and three east. There to pick out a vague patch of luminosity through the finder:

M37 Auriga, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 5.6, Size: 24' RA: 5:52.4, Dec:32 33, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

M37 is larger than M36, and more compact. Of the three Aurigaen Messiers, it has the largest number of visible stars (well over one hundred). M37 also displays voids and dark bands suggestive of intervening dark nebulosity. Visually, the cluster looks very much like a "bull's head". The bull's nose to the east while the horns tend west and north. A single 9+ magnitude blue white star "stands" between the bulls eyes. Swarms of 10 - 12+ magnitude stars make up the head. The head's southern half is broken by a number of small dark regions. Further south, a single long dark band cuts off a small group of 11 and 12 magnitude outlying stars. The northern half of the bull's head doesn't show anything like the dark zones seen to the south. These zones, along with the general shape of the bull's head and horns, become more readily apparent when switching over to the 10mm 180X eyepiece. At 50X, the group appears "quasi-globular" possessing an unusually compact core. I like this cluster!

Another northern swing is complete and thus begins a new south sky excursion. Locating Procyon and Beta Canis Minoris, I follow their line southeast tripling the distance to 4th magnitude Zeta Monoceri. From Zeta, slew three degrees south and one degree east to:

M48 Hydra, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 5.8, Apparent Size: 55' RA: 08 13.8, Dec:- 5 48, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

M48 is a large, vaguely suggestive group of about one hundred 8 to 12th magnitude stars. The cluster takes up three quarters of the one degree field of view. Toward the center, a group of a half-dozen 8th magnitude stars array in a tight "Y" formation. (The cup of the "Y" to the west-southwest.) Two large arcs of dimmer stars give a sense of round bowls flanking the Y-shaped group at the center.

The more northerly "bowl" is especially well delineated and is comprised of a ten arc-minute sized crescent of 10 and 11th magnitude stars. Two parallel trains of magnitude 10 stars lead the group to the west. A pair of 8th magnitude stars (oriented north-south) trail to the east. An arrowhead of stars point toward this trailing pair.

From M48 I swing 15 degrees due north to 3rd Magnitude Beta Cancri. (This shows up as a wide optical double in the finderscope.) Centering on the brighter of the two stars, I slew 2 degrees north and 6 west in the direction of fourth magnitude Alpha (another finderscope pair). Before arriving at Alpha, I note a fuzzy patch of light in the finder:

M67 Cancer, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 6.9, Apparent Size: 30' RA: 08 51.4, Dec:11 49, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

Like M37 in Auriga, M67 is an example of a class of open clusters that are small, rich in stars, and highly condensed. M67 diverges slightly from the ideal by appearing an amalgam of two differing shapes. One (to the east), sprawls a bit north and south. This group gives the impression of an arrowhead pointing away from the more highly condensed and populous western group. That western region gives the appearance of an overturned bowl. Four smaller groups of stars within the bowl array like "tines" on a pitchfork. Like M48, certainly one hundred stars can be seen past magnitude 12. A peerless 7th magnitude blue star dominates the cluster to the west.

From M67, I reference the finderscope and slew 8 degrees north. Keeping my attention on the finder field some 2 degrees west, I easily catch the dozen or so brighter stars in:

M44 Cancer, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 3.1, Apparent Size: 95' RA: 08 40.1, Dec:19 46, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

Like M48 and M67, Praesepe (M44) displays well over one hundred 5 to 13th magnitude stars. These spread out over a large (degree and a half) field. Brightest members distribute along the north-south axis. (This group was noticed through the finderscope on acquisition). In the center of this region, several stellar triplicities are seen. Two are quite angular and point in opposing directions (east-west). Careful inspection of Praesepe reveals a continuous gradient of ever dimmer and dimmer stars. Mottling of the background sky suggests many more stars are possible - well-beyond Argo's magnitude 14.5 averted vision reach.

I take a moment to assess the transparency of the sky. Swinging east, along a graceful ellipse of stars in the southern part of the field, I can just hold a favorite 12.7 magnitude test star at 50X. This tells me that the night's sky is very transparent. In fact, I should be able to directly see stars to magnitude 5.8 unaided. But of course, I selected just this spot to view from for it's large expanse of dark and steady skies to begin with!

I continue the momentum north. Locating the nose of the Great Bear (Omicron Ursa Majoris), I swing back toward Dubhe (Alpha UMA). Between these two, I pick up the fine double star 23 Ursa Majoris. The pair is quite wide (22.8 arc-seconds) and shows subtle color contrast. The 3.8 magnitude primary appears warm yellow, and trailing 9.0 magnitude secondary, aqua. From 23, I slew six degrees due north to 5th magnitude 24 Ursa Majoris. Centering 24 in the finder, I adjust east to easily capture a close pair of fuzzy lights in the field of view. Centering on the more southerly, I switch to the main tube and view:

M81 Ursa Majoris, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 7.0, Apparent Size: 26x14' RA: 09 55.6, Dec:69 04, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

M82 Ursa Majoris, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.4, Apparent Size: 11x5' RA: 09 55.8, Dec:69 41, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

In the vacinity are two other fainter galaxies. Both offer up views for a six inch instrument - but only on decent transparency nights. Less than a degree southeast of expansive M81, is 9.9 magnitude 5x4 arc-minute sized NGC3077. This face on spiral sports a hint of a star-like core within a three arc-minute sized aura of luminosity. NGC2976 is found about one degree east and a half-degree south of M81. Unlike NGC3077, there is no star-like core - only a gradual blend of light to space. Under moderate aversion, the entire listed 3X5 arc-minutes of this football-shaped galaxy can be made out. Despite this, it is no surprise that Charles Messier missed these two galaxies. Both should give optimal views through 250mm scopes beneath 5.5 magnitude skies.

M108 Ursa Majoris, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 10.1, Apparent Size: 8x3' RA: 11 11.5, Dec:55 40, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

M108 presents near edge on and has a definite core. It aooears similar to M82 but requires a larger scope to show texture. Perhaps 7x2 arc-minutes of the galaxy are visible with moderate aversion. 108's core appears about as bright as a 12th magnitude star. Overall the galaxy's contrast with the background sky is fine, but certainly not the equal of M82. A 12th magnitude star leads 108's tip across the sky. Two 10th magnitude stars, separated by about 10 arc-minutes, point at the galaxy from the west and slightly north. M108 is not lenticular - the commonly used term "cigar-shaped" describes it well.

Maintaining the view through the main tube, I continue one degree further southeast to:

M97 Ursa Majoris, Type: Planetary Nebula, Magnitude: 11.2, Size: 3' RA: 11 14.8, Dec:55 01, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

M109 Ursa Majoris, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.8, Apparent Size: 8x5' RA: 11 57.6, Dec:53 23, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

Like many obliquely oriented galaxies, M109 appears elongated. Unlike the edge-ons, there is little sense of a frontier. On this particular evening, some east-west extension is seen however. At galaxy central is a faint 12.5 magnitude star-like core. Surrounding this, a large dim (maybe 3X5') "para core" region. The galaxy's low surface brightness (magnitude 13.5) begs for aperture. But increased visual sensitivity caused by eye movement detects a vague flashing south-southwest. A ten inch instrument should make this extension quite plain to the eye...

Centering on Delta Ursa Majoris, I sweep a degree and a half north and half degree east to locate 9th mag double star:

M40 Ursa Majoris, Type: Double Star, Magnitude: 9.0&9.6, Size: 50" RA: 12 22.4, Dec:58 05, Optimal Scope Size: 50mm.

Two questionable studies are found on Messier's list. (By this is meant two inclusions that didn't translate into Henry Draper's New General Catalogue compiled in the late 19th century.) One is entry number 73 - a small asterism of four stars in Aquarius. The other, M40, is a wide pair of 9th magnitude stars.

With an apparent separation of about one arc-minute, the M40 pair do not even meet the classical definition of a "double star" (35 arc seconds or less). To be complete however, any Messier tour should include a look.

In viewing this pair, I notice that the brighter member (magnitude 9.0) leads the dimmer across the sky. Though both stars appear blue, the 9.6 magnitude component shows a bit of a greenish hue. Nothing about the pair smacks of nebulosity through even very modest modern scopes. For this reason it's hard to fathom how they could ever be mistaken for anything comet-like. However, there are situations where even contemporary observers with fine equipment experience dim pairs as faint "mists" of nebulosity - "Monsiour, vous est excuzer." And, of course, there is always the possibility that there really was a comet present. (Although it's orbit would have been well-off "the beaten path" of the ecliptic...)

From M40, I slew due south 5 degrees past a 5/6th mag finder double then continue that same distance to a single 5th mag star. From there I switch to the main tube and descend 2 degrees further south to:

M106 Canes Venatici, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.3, Apparent Size: 18x8' RA: 12 19.0, Dec:47 18, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

In general, bright but expansive galaxies (such as M106) can be deceptively difficult to turn up in modest telescopes. This particular galaxy however, is an exception. Although M106 bears an average surface brightness of 13.4, it displays a bright star-like core and luminous core region. A few wisps of spiral arms are also possible north and south. Eye movement shows perceptible flaring to the east.

Like many elongates, galaxy M106 shows a starlike central core, dimmer - but obvious - core region, and under extreme aversion, an expansive halo. The galaxy as a whole, orients more or less north-south. An 11th magnitude star is seen about 10 arc-minutes south of the core and a 12th magnitude star 5 arc-minutes east. M106's core region expands eastward on eye movement. The western part of the galaxy seems more sharply delineated. Due to it's large size, very dark nights at low magnification are needed to see more of this galaxy. On such nights a subtle sense of structure is possible - even through a six inch instrument. But rare is the night when this is the case. Fortunately, such a night is upon me!

Beginning one degree south of Regulus, I slew due east roughly seven degrees to 5th magnitude 53 Leo. At 53, I switch to the main tube and make a low power scan a degree and a half north to find:

M96 Leo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.2, Apparent Size: 7x5' RA: 10 46.8, Dec:11 49, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

M96 is not a difficult find - it's 10th magnitude fuzzy core readily gives it away. The galaxy extends over a roundish 5 arc-minutes with a slight east-northeast / west-southwest elongation. M96 makes up a flat triangle with a widely spaced pair of 10th magnitude stars (to the north). Switching to 120X, I confirm that the core lays at the center of the visible part of the galaxy.

M95 Leo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.7, Apparent Size: 7x5' RA: 10 44, Dec:11 42, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

Returning one degree east and slightly north, I center on M96 once again and continue another degree north to:

M105 Leo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.3, Apparent Size: 5x4' RA: 10 47.8, Dec:12 35, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

Galaxy M105 is smaller than M96 - say a roundish 4 arc-minutes, Its core is quite bright and gives a sense of elongation west-southwest. Like M95, 105 shows an offset core-central under higher magnification. In this case, to the north. A pipestem of 3 tenth magnitude stars oriented north-south is seen about 8 arc-minutes east within the same 50X field of view.

Very near M105 (and in the same low power field of view) is Galaxy NGC3384. This galaxy is such a close match in luminosity to the others that it is hard to conceive of Monsieur Messier missing it - especially given it's proximity to #105. Perhaps Charles thought he was seeing double that evening? In any event, most amateurs would include 3384 on their own private list of "Messier's that got away". With a roundish 3 arc-minutes visible, Galaxy NGC3384 is smaller than M105. Even so, a vague sense of northwest to southeast elongation is possible. Inspection at 120X shows a slight eastern shift to the core vis a vis the visible part of the galaxy. A bright 7th magnitude star leads NGC3384 across the sky.

From this close pair of brightish galaxies, I slew 6 degrees east to a single 5th mag star and center thereon. While monitoring at low power, I sweep one degree southeast to:

M65 Leo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.3, Apparent Size: 10x3' RA: 11 18.8, Dec:13 05, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

Unlike members of the previous group, M65 (average surface brightness 12.7) and M66 (12.6) display almost edge on. Neither M65 or 66 show starlike cores as bright as M105. Both these cigar-shaped galaxies appear to "smear" their light more evenly across the core region. Both galaxies offer better contrast to the night sky than any in the more westerly group. Neither "bleeds off" the way face-on galaxies do. Both M65 and 66 offer up a very satisfying visual experience in a six inch scope on very good nights such as this.

M65 shows perhaps 3 X 7 arc-minutes of its 3 X 10 arc-minute apparent size. Basic orientation, north-south. With moderate aversion, a slight "halo" can be seen surrounding core central. A tenth magnitude field star lies about 5 arc-minutes due west and a 12th magnitude star is visible 3 arc-minutes south-southwest.

M65 is more nearly edge-on than its neighbor M66, but much less so than near by Galaxy NGC3628. M65 (like its neighbor) points more or less toward the large NGC. Unlike M66, M65's core can be held direct at low power. Eye movement catches a halo extending west. Of the two extensions, the northern one seems brighter and longer. There also appears to be a dark band truncating the galaxy to the east. This offers some closure to that frontier.

M66 lies in same field as M65 - slightly south and east. A tight group of four 10 to 11 magnitude stars is seen southwest of the galactic core. An interesting wishbone of 10th and 11th magnitude stars lies north and east.

M66 Leo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.0, Apparent Size: 9x4' RA: 11 20.2, Dec:12 59, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

Strangely, an even more intriguing galaxy is visible in this region. Located about 45 arc-minutes north, a ghostly shaft of diaphanous light can be found. Galaxy NGC3628 is a large (12X2'), lenticular edge-on. As such it hangs like a pale dagger in space. Averted vision reveals hints of edges: Harder to north and softer to south. A slight thickening is possible to the west and a thin extension to east. On a dark night, this 13.4 average surface brightness galaxy can be seen even through a three inch scope.

I center on 2nd magnitude Beta Leonis and slew due east 5 degrees to 6th magnitude 6 Coma Berenices. Centering the main tube on 6, backtracking less than a degree west reveals:

M98 Coma Berenices, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 10.1, Size: 10x3' RA: 12 13.8, Dec:14 54, Optimal Scope Size: 300mm.

M98 is the most difficult of all the Messier galaxys. Many NGC galaxies give finer views and are easier to track down. This 13.5 magnitude average surface brightness (ASB) galaxy is not easily approached even through a 6 inch. Using eye movement, a star-like core may be seen but outside that core-point, no true "core region" is perceptible. Maybe 2 by 6 arc minutes of this 3 X 10 arc-minute sized edge-on is possible. What might have been a core region is but an indistinct brightening. That brightening in turn, melds uniformly into wispy extensions that dissolve into space. Makes one wonder how ol'98 got to be on Messier's list at all. This, especially considering the fact that an earlier study of comparable surface brightness (NGC3628) didn't make the grade.

Before moving onto my next study, I reflect on some of the paradoxes of Messier's list and the sky from which it sprang. If, for instance, I were to put together a list of all possible galaxies that Charles Messier could have discovered, I would use M98 as the holotype of susceptibility. To compile this list, I would assume the brightest visible one arc-minute portion of any candidate is magnitude 12.0 or brighter and the average surface brightness would not exceed magnitude 13.5. Such a list could probably include nearly one-hundred Northern Hemisphere susceptible studies.

Given M98 as the most difficult of the Messier galaxies, it is clear that many more obvious and well-positioned candidates were missed (NGC3384 neighboring M105, for instance). No criticism is implied here. Charles Messier was a "comet hunter". He pursued his passion out of an avid spirit of adventure and discovery. Like many explorers, Charle was motivated by a mix of wonder, excitement, and personal ambition. His was not a "detached" scientific survey of the heavens. There were no "gridlines" drawn across star charts. He didn't make an exhaustive study of individual "boxed regions" of the sky. He swept the sky for "strange stuff" and when he found such, made notes to himself. Theses notes multipled and, at some point, Messier realized the need to get organized. So he made a list. Realizing his list was unique, Messier published. In publishing, Charles Messier assured himself a place in history as "the original deepsky observer".

Of course, I can follow this line of reflection because there is a bit of Charles Messier in me. In a sense, I can see myself doing exactly the same thing. I can imagine being mysteriously transported to another galaxy, along with Argo and the Pup. Above me is a fresh, new, unique, and mysterious night sky. Initially, I'd explore whimsically. Wonder after wonder would be revealed. Soon I'd become overwhelmed and start making notes and charts. Knowing that the Cosmos displays a certain "universality", I would already have a relatively sophisticated understanding of what I was looking at. My observations would necessarily be "categorical" - nebulae, clusters, galaxies etc. Sooner or later the human in me would begin to brood about Earth, Sun, and Milky Way. Then I'd probably set out to locate "home" in the heavens. This would bring focus to my undertaking. Thus a science is born.

These lines of reflection complete, I return to 6 Coma Berenices and sweep one degree southeast to:

M99 Coma Berenices, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.8, Apparent Size: 5' RA: 12 18.8, Dec:14 25, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

This football shaped galaxy is an easier study than M98. Part of this is due to the fact that at magnitude 9.8 and 5 arc-minute apparent size, M99 has an ASB .5 magnitudes brighter than M98. M99 shows a star-like core, distinctive brightish core region, and wispy extensions. This galaxy is nominally "round". To me, slightly elongated. This may be due to a possible truncating dark band northwest. The remainder of the galaxy extends south-southwest to north-northeast. In all, about 3 X 4 arc-minutes of the galaxy is visible. Some, only as I move my eye across the field of view. Photgraphs of M99 show an elongated core region. By including it's dim spiral arms in measurements, the galaxy's dimensions expand to a round 5 arc-minutes. This accounts for the elongated appearance.

Returning to the finderscope, I backtrack to 6 Coma Berenices and follow a line of three 5th/6th magnitude stars northeast. Centering on the third star in the line (which includes 6 itself), I switch to the main tube and continue one-half degree northeast to:

M100 Coma Berenices, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.4, Apparent Size: 7x6' RA: 12 22.9, Dec:15 49, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

At magnitude 13.1 ASB, M100 is surprisingly easy on a dark night. Despite its luminosity, it does not display a star-like core but simply dims uniformly inside out. Unlike M99, M100 appears round. On eye movement a bit of flaring is seen along an east-west axis. Despite this flare, the galaxy pretty much retains its circular appearance.

M100 is attended by at least two, small (1 arc-minute), faint (13.5 plus magnitude), companions. One is magnitude 13.9 NGC4322. And the other 13.5 magnitude NGC4328. NGC4322 is located just north of the main galaxy, NGC4328 southeast. Both galaxies displace about 1 arc-minute of apparent size. Careful inspection at higher magnification (say 120x) just reveals the brighter attendant using moderate aversion. Such one arc-minute sized, 13.5 magnitude galaxies lie right on the limit of a 6 inch instrument and typically require a great deal of homework be done in advance of observation.

To locate my next study, I continue 4 degrees northeast to the lovely, low power double 24 Coma Berenices. The brighter pair star appears warm yellow, while the secondary is gold. High power binoculars would find this a nice challenge double. But tonight is about Messiers, so I half split the difference between 24 and a 5th magnitude star 4 degrees west-southwest in the finder. Switching to the main tube I make out:

M85 Coma Berenices, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.2, Apparent Size: 7x5' RA: 12 25.4, Dec:18 11, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

At 12.7 ASB, M85 is the brightest of the four Coma Berenices galaxies seen thus far. M85's stellar core can be held direct - even at 50X. Surrounding this star-like point is an elongated core region blending into wispy extensions along a south-southwest to north-northeast axis. Perhaps 5X3 of this 7X5 arc-minute sized galaxy is possible. During eye movement, wispy extensions flare west-southwest.

In locating M85, I catch a second, one magnitude dimmer galaxy 10 arc-minutes due east. M85's companion is roundish and about half 85's apparent size. It's published magnitude (10.9), and apparent size (4 arc-minutes) gives it an ASB of magnitude 13.6. Although I've located dimmer galaxies through 6 inch Argo, NGC4394 is the dimmest one "discovered" by chance. Even so, the galaxy is quite obvious and requires no special "visual trickery" to make out. It is likely that, as personal experience grows, galaxies to magnitude eleven and beyond may be susceptible to serrendipitous discovery through a six inch scope such as Argo.

From M85, I drop due south 6 degrees and pick out a neighboring pair of matched brightness galaxies.

M84 Virgo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.3, Apparent Size: 5x4' RA: 12 25.1, Dec:12 53, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

While contemplating this pair, two ideas of some intrigue surface. First, after turning up a few of the brightest galaxies in the region, Charles Messier went off to explore elsewhere. This left Messier's associate (Pierre Méchain) the opportunity to harvest the twelve remaining bright galaxies (M88 - M100) found there. It would appear that Charles Messier wasn't into mopping up!

Second, and more uniquely, is the fact that the M84/86 locale bears a resemblence to the Hubble Deep Space Galaxy Field - a region of intense galactic concentrations on the very edge of the HST's photographic reach. As such, this region is the amateur's "Not-So-Deep Space Galaxy Field". By lavishing time and attention thereon, one can make of it "The Galaxy Field of Dreams"...

M84 is the western member of the M84/86 pairing. Of the two, it is the slightly brighter and visibly smaller. At ASB 12.2, M84 is also brighter than the previous study M85 - while M86 is slightly dimmer (ASB 12.9). M84 shows maybe 3 arc minutes of face on presentation. Like M85, it displays a star-like nucleus surrounded by a bright core enshrouded with wispy nebulosity. During eye movement, M84 seems to swell in every direction. No flaring to any particular direction is detected. Quite globular-clusterlike actually.

M86 Virgo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.2, Apparent Size: 7x6' RA: 12 26.2, Dec:12 57, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

As noted, M's 84 and 86 dwell in a galaxy-rich region of space. Within the same 40 arc-minute field of view, and with a little effort, a six inch scope can reveal at least three other galaxies.

Forming a nice (almost equilateral) triangle with the two Messier's (about 20 arc-minutes south) is NGC4388. At magnitude 11.0 and 5X1 arc minute apparent size, this edge-on spiral has an ASB of 12.4. As such you'd think it would show as much structure as the brightest of the Messiers. But this is not the case. All that is possible is to get a sense of NGC4388's spatial orientation (east-west) and size (maybe 3/4 X 3 arc-minutes). While moving the eye around the field, a dim, star-like core of the 13th magnitude is possible.)

At magnitude 12.0, 2x1 arc-minute sized NGC4387 also has a 12.4 magnitude average surface brightness galaxy. 4387 is conveniently located in the midst of a triangle formed by the two Messiers and NGC4388. Despite its relatively bright ASB, NGC4387 requires 120X for definitive detection - especially on marginal nights of seeing. Even so eye movement does give the galaxy a hint of a stellar nucleus.

It has been my experience that locating one arc-minute sized galaxies often requires higher magnifications. At lower overall magnitudes, their small cores are often indistingushable from faint stars. Increased magnification darkens the night sky and spreads the light out enough to make recognition possible. The eye is also sensitive to "size" as well as contrast, and luminosity. For these reasons, higher magnifications are often needed when attempting to track down dim galaxies approaching 1 arc-minute in extent and magnitudes near a particular apertures limit for sky conditions.

About 10 arc-minutes north of M86 is a dim swatch of nebulosity - NGC4402. Bearing an ASB of magnitude 12.9, galaxy 4402 appears quite ill-defined. Like NGC4387, 4402 requires 120X for confident detection.

East of M86 are two brighter NGC galaxies - 4435 and 4438. 4435 is roundish (3X2 arc-minutes) and bears a visual magnitude of 10.8. 4438 is larger (9 X 3) and cumulatively brighter (10.1). At ASB 12.4 and 13.4 ASB respectively, neither are particularly difficult. And there larger apparent size supports lower magnifications nicely.

From the "Not-So-Deep Space Galaxy Field", I sweep a degree and a half east-southeast to:

M87 Virgo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.6, Apparent Size: 7' RA: 12 30.8, Dec:12 24, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

This round, 4 arc-minute sized galaxy is visible about 8 arc minutes south of a 9th magnitude blue star. Its bright star-like center can be held direct at 50X. The surrounding core region perhaps one arc-minute in radius. That core region is, in turn, accompanied by wispy excursions flaring southwest. Switching to 70X (which often darkens a marginal sky), I notice a curve proceeding clockwise west to southwest. The is the first of the Coma-Virgo galaxies to show evidence of a spiral arm on this tour. No counter- spiral is visible (on the far side of the core).

About 10 minutes west-southwest of M87 core, I catch a second "baby galaxy" (not a dwarf) of the evening. This one turns out to be: Galaxy NGC4478 Virgo, Magnitude: 11.2, Size: 2', ASB: 12.4. NGC4478 gives a sense of central brightening plus faintish wisps to south and west on eye movement. Some aversion is required to get any sense of detail - and this at 70X. However, like NGC4312 earlier, Galaxy 4478 looks like a smaller, dimmer version of a Messier galaxy.

By bumping the magification to 120X, I make out an even dimmer galaxy some 7 minutes west of M87 core. This galaxy (12.3 magnitude NGC4476)is a tough find for a six inch through garden-variety skies. On this particular night, use of higher magnification helps make its presence obvious...

I again drop in a low power, one degree field eyepiece then sweep the sky one and a half fields due east:

M89 Virgo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.8, Apparent Size: 4' RA: 12 35.7, Dec:12 33, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

Complicating the view of M89 is a bright 7th magnitude star some 10 minutes due west. Despite this, M89 remains relatively bright, circular, and small (3 arc-minutes in diameter). It displays all the basic features I've come to know and appreciate in the brighter Messier galaxies: Starlike point, core region, and wispy annulus. On eye movement a slight lenghthening can be seen along the east-northeast / west-southwest axis. To my pleasure, there is also the barest suspicions of a faint, curling spiral arm. Like M87, M89 sports real structure and merits some serious study time on a good dark night such as this...

M88 Coma Berenices, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.5, Apparent Size: 7x4' RA: 12 32, Dec:14 25, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

Like most galaxies in the M8X series this one displays fine contrast with the night sky. In viewing M88 at 70x, I see a bright center surrounded by an "edge on" presented core region. Outside that region wispy extensions can be traced north-northeast and south-southwest. Under eye movement some flaring occurs southeast.

M91 Coma Berenices, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 10.2, Apparent Size: 5x4' RA: 12 35.4, Dec:14 30, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

Like M87, M91 is a face on spiral. In general such studies are less than favorably seen at 6 inches of aperture. At best I can just hold a dim starry core with averted vision. Otherwise, this 3 arc-minute sized face-on rapidly dissipates at the frontier. An occasional flare can be seen during eye movement extending south-southeast.

Referencing the main tube at low power, I drop two and a half degrees due south and pick out:

M90 Virgo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.5, Apparent Size: 9x5' RA: 12 36.8, Dec:13 10, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

This large, relatively faint Messier galaxy forms the pinnacle of a right triangle south of a pair of 11th mag field stars. The galaxy is visibly elongated with a sharper edge to the west. The smallish core region has no starry point. The galaxy seems more rounded to east. Overall, M90 distributes its luminosity out nicely for all its 13.4 magnitude average surface brightness.

Roughly two degrees due south of M90, is an even lower numbered series of galaxies from Messier's list. In making the drop through the main tube I come across two small, bright galaxies of a size, oriented along a east-west axis. My attention is drawn to the western member of the pair:

Here I see a 3X5 arc-minute, football-shaped galaxy oriented east-northeast to west-southwest. The galaxy trails a 7.5 magnitude field star across the sky. A dim core point can be seen at 50X with mild aversion. M58 is flatter and more delineated to south and sports a perceptible northern bulge. Although faint extensions can be seen on axis, there is a slight flaring northeast at 70X. Even under marginal skies M58 gives a decent view.

M59 Virgo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.8, Apparent Size: 5x3' RA: 12 42.0, Dec:11 39, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

This galaxy forms the "crutch" of a small right triangle with a pair of 11th and 12th magnitude stars. On turning it up I detect maybe 2X4 arc minutes of football-shaped presentation oriented more or less north and south. Under moderate aversion and 70X magnification, I'm able to detect a core-point. Like M89, here is a rather compact galaxy displaying fine sky contrast: Core point, core-region and wispy extensions. On eye movement a slight flaring is visible east-northeast.

Continuing a slow sweep east, I encounter what may very well be the showpiece of the Coma-Virgo cluster:

M60 Virgo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.8, Apparent Size: 7x6' RA: 12 43.7, Dec:11 33, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

Bright, large, elongated. M60's tips show curls indicative of spiral arms. 4X6 arc-minutes of this large spiral can easily be seen. The galaxy positions itself at the apex of a flat triangle with two 12th magnitude stars and offers excellent contrast with the sky. Like M58, a good view through a six inch scope.

I locate 3rd and 2nd magnitude stars Delta and Epsilon Virginis and follow that line to 5th magnitude Alpha Coma Berenices. Centering the finder, I look for a fuzzy star 1 degree northeast. This is:

M53 Coma Berenices, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 7.7, Size: 13' RA: 13 12.9, Dec:18 10, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

Although less than half M53's 13 arc-minute size is seen direct at 50X, there is a certain "roughness" about the cluster. This unresolved portion is quite luminous and gives an obvious "coming at ya" mound-like effect. Like most globulars, the cluster is not quite truly "round". A certain flattening is seen south-southeast. Eye movement causes the cluster's presentation to flare northwest. At 120X, scintillation of at least a dozen stars is apparent. On this night, and at higher magnifications, about a dozen members can be held direct.

One degree east-southeast of M53, lies 9.8 magnitude 11 arc-minute sized NGC5053. Possessing an average surface brightness of magnitude 14.8, little detail (beyond a faint 4 arc-minute diameter smudge) is possible in a six inch instrument. There is however, a certain satisfaction that comes with locating the cluster. But the night must be quite dark and eye well adapted to make this possible through a six inch scope.

3 degrees west of Alpha is 5th magnitude 36 Coma Berenices. Centering on 36, I slew 5 degrees due north and one degree west to 5th magnitude 35. From 35 another degree northeast leads to:

M64 Coma Berenices, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.5, Apparent Size: 9x5' RA: 12 56.7, Dec:21 41, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

Despite M64's large apparent size, the galaxy holds nice contrast with the sky. Framed within a pyramid of 8th/9th magnitude stars, I make out about 4X7 arc-minutes oriented northwest to southeast. The core shows a starry point - easily held at 50X. From this I suspect that the brightest part of the galaxy shines at about magnitude 10.0 (per arc-minute). This value lies about halfway between the average surface brightness of the galaxy and the integrated brightness of the galaxy as a whole. Surrounding M64's central point is a 2X1 arc-minute core region oriented along the major axis. The southwest frontier is well delineated, while the rest of the galaxy flares perceptibly to all directions on eye movement.

I back out of the eyepiece to locate 1st magnitude Spica. Using the finder, I slew due west some 10 degrees and center between two wide finder pairs. 4 degrees west of the second pair turns up:

M104 Virgo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.3, Apparent Size: 9x4' RA: 12 40.4, Dec:-11 37, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

At magnitude 8.3 the Sombrero Galaxy has a lot going for it. First, at magnitude 11.9, it's average surface brightness lies well within the limiting magnitude of a 150mm scope at 50X. Second, the galaxy presents supremely edge on. Simply said, the Sombrero's contrast with the sky is superb and for it's size it has no peer...

Another thing that strikes me about the galaxy is the neighborhood. Some twenty arc-minutes northwest is a compelling "scorpio-shaped" asterism of matched 7th magnitude stars. Surely this is a recognized cluster of somekind - and a most unusually shaped one at that!

The Sombrero Galaxy is extraordinarily "present". Bulgier than most edge-ons, perhaps 2 X 7 arc-minutes of the galaxy can be held direct along an east-west axis. On this particularly fine night, a cap of detached nebulosity can be seen to the south while the northern region expands visibly into a dim halo of luminosity. One final intrigue: The Sombrero appears to have two star-like cores. One at the center of the lenticular disk and a second just west of that.

I make a quick check south some ten degrees to locate 2nd magnitude Beta Corvi. Centering on Beta allows me to slew south (and slightly east) some 4 degrees to center on a 6th magnitude field star. Through the main tube I sweep northeast a little less than a degree to:

M68 Hydra, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 8.2, Size: 12' RA: 12 39.5, Dec:-26 45, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

As globular clusters go, M68's size and brightness should at least hint at resolution. But low sky position renders it rather unimpressive. On most occasions, I feel lucky just to get a sense of "scintillation" under eye movement. On that score I'm not disappointed. Perhaps 5 arc-minutes of the cluster's core is possible direct.

From M68, I slew due north twenty plus degrees to center on the fine double star Gamma Virginis (Porrima). Dropping in my highest power single eyepiece (180x), I make out an equally matched pair of pearly-white 4th magnitude stars elongated along an east-west axis.

From third magnitude Porrima, I draw an imaginary line to 4th magnitude Omicron some ten degrees northwest. Orienting the finder half-way between the two enables me to center on a single fifth magnitude star slightly southwest of the connecting line. Referencing the main tube, I sweep a degree and a half northeast to:

M61 Virgo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 9.7, Apparent Size: 6x5' RA: 12 21.9, Dec:4 28, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

For a low-order Messier galaxy, M61 is rather unimpressive. Despite having a star-like core, no distinctive core region is seen. The bulk of the galaxy is an extended fuzz some 3 arc-minutes outward from the core in all directions. No sense of frontier or orientation is seen. Your basic bright center to elusive frontier nebulosity.

From M61, I slew some four degrees north and one east to a wide finder pair of 6th magnitude stars. Centering between the pair, the main tube reveals:

M49 Virgo, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.4, Apparent Size: 9x7' RA: 12 29.8, Dec:08 00, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

Despite it's low placement in Messier's list of comet-like objects, M49 ranks with the M84-86 series in terms of "sky presence". In a six inch, M49 shows little more than half its 9X7 arc-minute apparent size direct. Under eyemove, a considerable increase in size is seen. This, as an extended outer aura augments the stellar core and extensive core region already present at 70X. General orientation of this football-shaped galaxy is east-west. Its eastern extension flares more visibly than west. There really is no sense of a frontier about M49. Again I am mindful of the limitations of aperture when it comes to viewing galaxies presenting other than "edge on".

I orient the scope on Zeta Ursa Majoris (Mizar). Mizar and its wide bright mate Alcor are easily verified in the finder. Through the main tube, I see Mizar itself resolve into two stars, magnitude 2.4 & 4.0 separated by 14 arc-seconds. Mizar-A appears pure white to my eye, while Mizar-B is touched with a hint of blue. From Mizar, I slew due east two degrees to 5th mag 83 UMA. Past that another degree east, brings me to sixth magnitude 84 UMA. After centering 84 at low power through the main tube, I resume my sweep east some three degrees to:

M101 Ursa Majoris, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 7.7, Size: 27x26' RA: 14 03.2, Dec:54 21, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

To locate my next study, I center bright Epsilon Ursa Majoris (just west of Mizar) in the finderscope. From Epsilon, I drop due south almost twenty degrees to Alpha Canes Venatici (Cor Corolli). Centering on Cor Corolli, I switch to the main tube and spend a few moments doting over this fine, wide, and colorful double star pair.

Cor Coroli is Spring's re-statement of Summer's Albireo double..Cor's third magnitude primary is uniquely greenish-yellow and it's fifth magnitude secondary, gold. Pair separation is indistinguishable from that of 24 Coma Berenices, but the dimmer member lies to the southwest. So the pair tends to move across the sky rather abreast of one another.

M94 Canes Venatici, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.2, Apparent Size: 11x9' RA: 12 50.9, Dec:41 7, Optimal Scope Size:150mm.

From M94, I slew 4 degrees due east to locate a four star finder asterism. Centering on northernmost 6th mag star, I sweep a degree and a half north to:

M63 Canes Venatici, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.6, Size: 12x8' RA: 13 15.8, Dec:42 02, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

This large, cigar-shaped galaxy shows maybe 3X7 arc-minutes of luminosity oriented along a general east-west axis. A star-like nucleus can be seen at 50X with moderate aversion of the eye. Surrounding the nucleus is a core region maybe 1X2 minutes in apparent size. From the core region expansive extensions can be seen. These along with a slight bulge to the north. The southern edge of the galaxy is sharper and better delineated than the north. One peculiarity of M63 is that the core appears to "sink into" the saucer-like extensions.

Following this fine view of M63, I center the finder on Eta Ursa Majoris and slew 2 degrees west to a 5th/6th magnitude wide finder double. Centering on a brighter star to south, I sweep 2 degrees further south to a pair of galaxies visible at low power through the main tube:

M51 Canes Venatici, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 8.4, Size: 11x8' RA: 13 29.9, Dec:47 12, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

Had there been no brighter galaxy in the neighborhood, M51's neighbor (NGC5195) could easily stand on its own. Although no core region is seen, a bright nucleus is possible. Overall, maybe 3 arc-minutes of visible luminosity is possible. On eye movement, NGC5195's western extension seems to reach out and touch M51's western spiral extension.

Following this fine view, I locate Cor Coroli and bright Arcturus. Splitting the distance between them, I consult the finder for signs of a hazy star. That hazy star is:

M3 Canes Venatici, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 6.4, Size: 16' RA: 13 42.2, Dec:28 23, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

I locate 1st magnitude Spica in Virgo and orient 10 degrees south and slightly west to 3rd magnitude Gamma Hydrae. Slewing 6 degrees southeast through the finder shows a Y-shaped group of 5th and 6th magnitude stars. Aligning the scope between the two that form the tips of the Y, I locate:

M83 Hydra, Type: Galaxy, Magnitude: 7.6, Size: 11x10' RA: 13 37.0, Dec:-29 52, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

Bright and large and whole! M83 may very well surpass M81 in terms of structure. Very conspicuous. Has a large, bright core region, not star-like, but planetary-nebula sized. The western frontier is quite delineated. East, vaguer and expansive. The bright core sinks down toward the west. In so doing it gives a hint as to Einstein's vision of gravity - a taught "rubbery" surface where heavy things create a depression that not so heavy things "roll into". About 6x9 minutes of the galaxy is possible. Orientation, southwest to northeast. A hint of a "ray-like" extension shoots out from the core to the southwest. Possibly the root of a spiral arm. M83 is to face-on galaxies, what the Sombrero (M104) is to edge-ons: Holotypes of small telescope visual excellence!

And with this very fine view of spiral galaxy M83, I bid adieu to the last of the "Island Universes" on my evening's deep sky adventure.

Though it's chilly out, I feel a strangely pervasive warmth in my being. Perhaps its the fact that the sky above me now says "summer" and something of that season's warmth touches my imagination...

M5 Serpens, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 5.8, Size: 17' RA: 15 18.6, Dec:02 05, Optimal Scope Size: 50mm.

Well north of M5, I locate the western face of the Hercules keystone to the northeast. Orienting the barrel of the scope 2/3rds the distance between 2nd magnitude Zeta and 3rd magnitude Eta, I sweep the sky lightly with the finderscope and center on a bright hazy star. Through the main tube:

M13 Hercules, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 5.9, Size: 16' RA: 16 41.7, Dec:36 28 Optimal Scope Size: 50mm.

When viewing M13, I like to sweep slightly northeast to attempt 11.6 magnitude, 3 by 1 arc-minute galaxy NGC6207. To do so, I swing M13 diagonally southwest about 20 arc-minutes. In that field lies an 8 arc-minute sized right-triangle of 11 and 12th magnitude stars. Moving the eye around to the north of the triangle, a faintly elongated 2 X 1 arc-minute sized patch is seen showing modest brightening to center. This faint galaxy shows almost edge-on and is oriented north-northwest to south-southeast. Altogether a very pleasing sight - especially given the neighborhood...

Centering on the wide finder optical Pi Hercules, I slew due north 6 degrees between a 4th and a 5th magnitude star. Continuing that same distance again, the finderscope reveals:

M92 Hercules, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 6.5, Size: 11' RA: 17 17.1, Dec:43 08, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

To locate my next study, I drop just below the celestrial equator to the southeast. There to pick out a pair of 2nd and 3rd magnitude stars - Delta and Epsilon Ophiuchi. Splitting the distance between the pair in the finder, I slew due east seven degrees to catch a fuzzy starlike patch of light. The switch to the main tube reveals:

M10 Ophiuchus, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 6.6, Size: 15' RA: 16 57.1, Dec:-04 06, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

What M92 is to M13 in the north, M10 is to M5 in the south. At 50X and on slight aversion, the cluster shows a dozen or so stars buzzing around a brightish core region . The cluster takes a position at the square point of a nice 15 arc-minute or so sized right triangle with a pair of 7-8 magnitude stars. At 180X, several dozen stars can be seen - some across the core. A long line of 4 or 5 stars orient north-south east of the cluster. These "truncate" the trailing edge of the cluster. An absence of brighter stars on the far side of the line (formed by this group) makes one think of a "cliff" over which component stars fall into the black of space. As the eye continues east, more stars appear. So having once taken the plunge, they soon pop up again. All is well!

M10, like most globular clusters, lacks a true sense of frontier. Brighter clusters show a kind of "dim halo" that extends well away from the core. This halo is often peppered with outlying stars and a faint glow may be seen with averted sight. If held direct, such a halonic glow may be thought of as part of the "greater core region". Clusters with bright halos often show "star chains" at high magnifications. Under the very finest conditions, clusters large and bright enough to show well in a three inch scope will reveal such chains at double the aperture. Certainly a three incher revolves individual cluster members, but too few to give the "star chain" effect.

While originally sweeping due east from Epsilon, I passed a second starlike patch off the slew line to the north. It's now time to make amends. So shifting the finder two degrees northwest reveals:

M12 Ophiuchus, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 6.6, Size: 15' RA: 16 47.2, Dec:-1 57, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

On first glance, Globular Cluster M12 looks very much like M10. Both have cummulative magnitudes of 6.6 and apparent sizes of 15 arc-minutes. Despite numeric similarities, there are significant differences. For one, it's a bit more difficult to tease resolution out of M12 at lower magnifications. For another, M12 doesn't show the strong "blue hue" of most globulars.

M12 floats in a river of 8 and 9th magnitude stars flowing east-west. The cluster is framed by a kite shaped group of 4 stars. These lie well within its borders - but outside the 3 or 4 arc-minute core visible at 50X. On switching to 120X, the globular's core elongates - along an east-west axis. Like M10, some resolution is visible across the core at higher powers. At 180x, the central region begins to look almost linear (as its flanks dissolve with magnification). The linearity lies along a northeast to southwest axis.

From M12, I shift the finder's crosshairs 2 degrees west and center on a sixth magnitude star. Then drop straight south roughly 8 degrees to Zeta Ophiuchi. While referencing the main tube, I shift a half degree west and two and a half south. This brings me to:

M107 Ophiuchus, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 8.1, Size: 10' RA: 16 32.5, Dec:-13 03, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

M107 is a small, faint dusting of stars. The cluster appears highly elongated with maybe 4X3 arc-minutes of core region visible oriented east-west. A blue 10th magnitude star is seen due east. At low magnification, the core appears quite diffuse. Higher powers reveal a star-like center. M107 lies at the crux of a cross made up of a half-dozen 10-12th magnitude stars. (The base of the cross to north.) At medium powers (120X), the cluster begins to scintillate with potential resolution. Meanwhile, the core region shifts slightly west. At even higher magnifications (180x), the whole cluster takes on a comet-like appearance. On eye movement, some flaring east-northeast is detectable.

To locate my next study, I return to Epsilon Ophiuchi and retrace my steps east to M10. Shifting M10 south just outside the low-power field of view, I resume the sweep east above nearby 5th magnitude 30 Ophiuchi then another five degrees east and well north of a second 5th magnitude star. At this point I switch to the main tube. Using low power, I continue another two degrees east to:

M14 Ophiuchus, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 7.6, Size: 12' RA: 17 37.6, Dec:-3 15, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

At 70X, M14 shows a good deal of texture (roughness). With extreme aversion, a few dim outliers are possible. Despite the lack of a core point, a large core region (some 4 arc minutes in size) with fine luminosity gradiant is displayed. Outside the core region lies an expansive bright halo which, in turn, bleeds to a faint region flaring noticeably east. The cluster appears visibly flattened southwest. At higher magnifications, M14 suggests a rather uniform spread of numerous 14th magnitude stars - some across the cluster's core.

From M14, I drop due south 12 degrees to a 4th magnitude finderscope double which includes Xi Ophiuchi. From Xi, a quick slew five degrees west centers on Eta. Using low power, I sweep 2 degrees east and 3 south to pick out:

M9 Ophiuchus, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 7.9, Size: 9' RA: 17, Dec:-18, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

Globular Cluster M9 shows a bright central core, core region and expansive halo. Maybe 5 arc-minutes of luminosity are visible. At 120X, a half-dozen stars are revealed under full aversion. The cluster visibly flattens south of its starlike core. At 180X, M9 holds together nicely and adds a few more resolved stars with averted vision.

The beauty of M9 is that it understands the statement "You are not alone." For one degree north and one east of M9 is another of those "little gems" that I find particularly endearing. At magnitude 8.4, the smallish (7 arc-minute) Globular Cluster NGC6356 is a perfect "mini-cluster". Such clusters usually display a star-like central core, brightish core region and a small rapidly dissipating halo. Those of us who enjoy viewing galaxies probably recognize this as the description of a bright face-on galaxy (such as Seyfert Galaxy M77). Like galaxies, there is no hope of resolving such faint clusters in a six inch scope. So one's expectations shift, and suddenly you find yourself taking the time to contemplate the simplicity of the globular form: Bright starry core, perceptible luminosity gradient, slightly flattened shape, faint aura, and stellar neighborhood. And, speaking of the neighborhood, that around NGC6356 is also most unusual. It's rare to see so many 7th magnitude stars sharing the same 1 degree field with a globular. Even a single such star is uncommon...

Also near M9 is very dim (magnitude 9.9), small (3 arc-minute) Globular NGC6342. This faint group lies about 1 degree south and east of M9. Where NGC6356, appears more like a "bright face-on Messier galaxy", 6342 appears a dim version of the same. At 70X, I can just hold this irregular swatch of faint luminosity direct. A 13th magnitude star can be seen 1 arc-minute south of the cluster's "core". The cluster itself looks distended along a north-south axis. Perhaps only a single arc-minute visible. Attempts to apply higher magnification dissolve any sense of shape or orientation. As difficult as this cluster is, it is less of a challenge than the faintest cluster susceptible to a 6 inch instrument under optimal sky conditions - the Intergalactic Wanderer (NGC2419) in Lynx. That 10.4 magnitude / 4 arc minute sized cluster requires careful inspection of the field to locate. Interestingly, the Wanderer actually seems to take magnification a wee bit better.

After exploring the M9 region, I return to center the finder on Xi Ophiuchi. From Xi, drop due south 1 degree past brighter Theta. A degree and a half east, I center on a finderscope pair. Using low power, I sweep the field a degree and a half further west. There to make out:

M19 Ophiuchus, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 7.1, Size: 14' RA: 17 02.6, Dec:-26 16, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

M19 appears very "squished" and quite blue. A largish 8x6 arc-minutes of luminosity is visible with orientation south-southeast to north-northwest. Unlike many brightish clusters, the core point is difficult to resolve. A half-degree long arc of 9th magnitude stars precede the cluster across the sky - a "stellar shield" so to speak. M19 is intensely blue, but its extremely elongated core is its most distinctive feature. Like many of its nearby confreres, the cluster flattens to the west. At 120X, a half-dozen stars resolve across the core (using "soft eyes"). M19 flares broadly east on eye movement. What would ordinarily be a rather fine globular through a six inch is softened considerably by low sky position.

Referencing the main tube at low power easily acquires the next study. This by dropping almost due south (and slightly west) of M19.

M62 Ophiuchus, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 6.6, Size: 14' RA: 17 01.2, Dec:-30 07, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

M62 is as bright and large as the more northern globulars M10, M12 and M92. Like M19, this cluster's view suffers due to sky position. Even so, M62 shows the usual littany of globular cluster features: Starlike core, bluish core region, and bright halo. At 70X, a dim halo extends maybe 5 arc-minutes outward from core point. Not suprisingly, there is a sense of incipient resolution about M62 - a certain "roughness of texture" is apparent. Typical of many clusters is the sense of "truncation" - almost as if a dark line is painted across the cluster's border. In M62's case, this "line of truncation" lies to the west. A seventh magnitude star sits 20 arc-minutes southwest of the cluster's core. A dim 11th magnitude star can be seen maybe 5 arc-minutes south-southeast. At 180X, a dozen outliers are visible with extreme aversion. Three brighter stars array themselves southwest to northwest - some 3 arc-minutes from the core.

It now approaches three o'clock in the morning. Overhead the sky is very dark. Though street lights of distant cities still cast their pall to north and west, residential lighting is at a lull. I am fortunate my observing site gives solid views south and east. Otherwise views of the numerous Ophiuchan clusters would have suffered noticeably. To be sure, the last two were quite difficult - hanging as they did some twenty degrees above the horizon and ten above the treeline to the southeast. I now ready for another swing north...

To track down my next Messier (a globular in fact), I am fortunate to have an exquisite double to act as a guide star. Peering well above the horizon to the east, I make out the majestic Northern Cross in its ascending guise as Cygnus the Swan. There, at the tip of the swan's beak, is the much prized jewel of all double stars: Albireo. I take a moment to enjoy this fine gold-green pair of third and fifth magnitude stars. Splitting the distance between Albireo and Gamma Lyrae with the barrel of the main tube, I switch to the finderscope. A trail of fifth and sixth magnitude stars can be seen across the field forming a line between Albireo and Gamma. I center on a sixth magnitude star slightly offset toward Albireo. Switching to the main tube, I sweep at low power less than a degree southeast to:

M56 Lyra, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 8.2, Size: 7' RA: 19 16.6, Dec:30 11, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

At 70x, M56 scintillates with vitality. Maybe 5 by 4 arc-minutes of the globular is seen (major axis oriented east-west). No sense of starlike core is seen. However, an elongated core region with bright halo leads off into a sparse corona of dim outliers. At 120x, the cluster flattens north-east. Softeye techniques resolves a dozen plus outlying stars. (This as I peer languidly toward the center of the cluster.) A nice and evenly gradiated cluster moving from core outward. Bearing an average surface brightness of magnitude 12.2, M56 gives the "optimal" view of a globular cluster through a six inch scope. Superb sky position and an excellent foreground field of stars make this study a regular stop during the summer observing season.

The long string of summer globular clusters that began with M5 in Serpens ends with M56 in Lyrae. It's now time to visit with the premiere annular planetary nebula accessible to modest scopes. To turn it up, I center the finder between third magnitude Beta and Gamma Lyrae. Gamma, in turn, is a wide finder pair with a sixth magnitude star oriented toward Beta. Half-splitting the distance between Gamma's confrere and Beta, I switch to the main tube and easily locate:

M57 Lyra, Type: Planetary Nebula, Magnitude: 9.7, Size: 1.1x2.5' RA: 18 53.6, Dec:33 02, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

The Ring itself is not a true "ring". It is quite elongated and gives the sense of "a single eye opened wide in surprise". There's also a vague intimation of "insect cacoon". M57's color, like most planetaries, is "robbins-egg blue-green". To my eye, the northwest flank appears slightly brighter than the southeast. Meanwhile, the eastern ansae seems brighter than that to the west. That western ansae is also visibly truncated in appearance. Certainly the Ring Nebula doesn't require the observer to "jump through hoops" to make out detail - through even very small instruments. In fact, on good nights, 43mm's of apertured-stopped refractor will reveal M57's "annular" nature...

The Ring lies in a picturesque region of stars. To the southwest is a "cocktail glass" asterism whose cup faces more or less directly toward M57. (I've given this group a personal appellation: "The Challice of the Ring".) The Challice is comprised of half-dozen 10th through 12 magnitude stars. East of the Ring no bright stars are seen. However, a 13th magnitude star lies very close to the eastern ansae. On good nights, the 80mm Pup will just catch this star strongly averted at 120x. Under similar conditions, 150mm Argo just holds this star direct at 180x. On better nights, it can be held at 120X. This while an even dimmer 13.4 magnitude star away from the Ring to the north-northeast can be seen with slight aversion. Between these two thirteenth magnitude stars is one of magnitude 14.1 - a decent catch using direct vision through an 8 inch scope. Generally these three stars make excellent tests for atmospheric transparency and stability over a surprising range of scope apertures and magnifications. In turn repeated visits, under a variety of conditions can lead the diligent observer to far better understanding of the effects of seeing on optics and general observation.

When contrast is very good, and the sky is especially transparent, two stars can be seen scintillating within the northern and southern flanks of the annularity. This is the ultimate view of "The Regent of Annularities" through a six inch scope. A view that may only happen two or three times a year in my parts.

It's is now precisely 3:00 in the morning. I am weary, but remain exhilerated. The summer season, with vast expanse of the Milky Way ( that Great River of Lesser Lights) illumines the sky southeast to northeast. As Argo (my own personal ship of the skies) remains directed toward the Lyre, I measure by eye the distance to Albireo and double it in that same direction. There to spy a small "Y"-shaped region of fourth and fifth magnitude stars. Locating the brightest and easternmost member of this small constellation (Sagitta), I swing Argo about and center the finderscope. Sweeping one degree west and slightly south, I arrive at:

M71 Sagitta, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 8.3, Size: 7' RA: 19 53.8, Dec:18 47, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

M71's field may not be as rich in stars as a true Milky Way region - but is nevertheless well populated. The cluster lies 20 arc-minutes due east of a sixth magnitude star. Another star of the ninth magnitude sits just south of the globular's frontier. Perhaps 3 x 4 arc-minutes of the cluster's core and region is visible. At 50x, what appears to be a star-point is seen - but higher magnifications (120x) show this to actually be a star (of about the 13th magnitude). The interesting thing about M71 is the unexpected number of stars lying on its line of sight. In fact, one string of the 13th magnitude cuts east-west across the cluster's core. (These are solvable at 180x.) Assuming the bulk of these stars are members, M71 is probably the dimmest Messier globular cluster that resolves to at least a few individual stars through a six inch instrument under optimal seeing.

From M71 I return to 4th magnitude Gamma Sagittae and sweep due north a little more than three degrees. While referencing the finder, I take note of a vague swash of luminosity:

M27 Vulpecula, Type: Planetary Nebula, Magnitude: 8, Size: 8x4' RA: 19 59.6, Dec:22 43, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

Planetary M27 is unquestionably the brightest study of its kind encountered in my astral wanderings. Though not the largest of planetaries, it is largest of the Messiers. Both size and luminosity suggest that it lies quite close to our own system. M27 takes up roughly 8 by 6 arc-minutes of apparent space. Orientation along a south-southwest to north-northeast major axis. It's appellation as the "The Dumbbell Nebula" is a bit of a mis-characterization. I remember one view through a 14 inch truss-tube newtonian telescope that clearly showed it to be "fat-football" shaped. When viewed through large scopes, the entire planetary's major axis swings 90 degrees. This as unsuspected nebulosity is revealed.

Through 150mm Argo, "The Dumbbell" appears more along the lines of a partially eaten apple. The brightest quadrant of M27 is seen to southwest. It's southern frontier, well defined - while that to the north remains diffuse. The waist of the planetary also appears diffuse (especially at 50x). At 70x, several stars embedded in the nebula emerge - especially southwest. As magnification increases, the core begins to "pinch" more obviously. Additional stars surface - some in the northern region. None can be held direct - even at 180x. Their basic appearence is that of a scintillation on the surface of the planetary. The effect is very satisfying to the eye and the planetary takes on a certain "livingness". On occasion, even the dim 13.5 magnitude star hidden in the planetary's midst reveals itself through this phenomenon.

M27 is very nicely framed by four 9th and 10th magnitude stars. These take up the cardinal directions in a 15 arc-minute sized "kite" with planetary at center. I reflect on the stars in the region. Does adestiny similar to M27's central star lay before each of them? Will they too finish their lives (be they long or short) with a bang and final exhalation of gas and dust?

To locate my next Messier study I find 2nd magnitude Gamma Cygni at the crux of the ascending Northern Cross. Centering on Gamma, I sweep due south about a degree and a half while monitoring the low power field of the main tube. This reveals:

M29 Cygnus, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 6.6, Size: 7' RA: 20 23.9, Dec:+38 22, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

Through the main tube eight or nine 9th through 11th magnitude blue-white stars appear organized into an elaborate throne. (I'm being delicate here, this particular "throne" would normally be found in a privy...) In, around, and through this asterism another dozen 12 plus magnitude stars can be seen. Two within the "base square" of the throne at 120x are joined by a third at 180. The cluster displays no true core. Stars formed out of the primal nebula associated with this cluster are well advanced in their rush to join the Milky Way at large.

Having contemplated this small, irregular open cluster, I orient the finder on bright Deneb at the tail of the Cygnus Swan. Referencing the finderscope, I sweep seven degrees due east to a bright triplity of stars centered around 4th magnitude Rho Cygni. While still peering through the finder, I slew three degrees north to easily locate:

M39 Cygnus, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 4.6, Size: 32' RA: 20 23.9, Dec:+38 22, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

M39 appears quite "triangular" in shape. The cluster's base lies to the south and runs east-west some 30 arc-minutes. A widish disparate pair extends further south from the base. This combination of triangle and double gives a nice "Christmas Tree" sense about the cluster. In this case though, very few "lights" are found on the tree - and those few are sporadically placed. Several widish doubles can be seen within this "broad-based tannenbaum" of a cluster. Overall, less than 2 dozen members are visible. These range from magnitude 6 to 12. Interestingly, the region outside the cluster possesses more very dim (12 plus) magnitude stars than the cluster itself. Certainly the phrase "brightly scattered" describes M39 aptly...

It is now time to range south again. With this view of M39, I have travelled as far north as I will for the remainder of the evening. (Save for that one very final study scheduled as dawn spreads its influence over the eastern sky.)

The northern sky of summer is graced with three bright stars: Deneb of Cygnus the Swan, Vega of Lyra the Lyre, and Altair of Aquila the Eagle. These three first magnitude stars, form an easily recognized "triangle". This is the famed "Summer Triangle" - a region which frames the rich star fields and dark obscuration regions of the northern flank of our own Milky Way galaxy.

To locate my next study, I turn to bright Altair - now well above the treeline due east. From Altair I trace the spine of the Eagle along the expanse of the Milky Way toward the galactic core in Sagittarius. At base lies the Eagle's tail star - 3rd magnitude Lambda Aquilae. Two fainter stars are easily seen nearby. These may be thought of as the Eagle's "tail feathers". I settle the finderscope on the dimmer of the pair - 4th magnitude Eta Aquilae. In that same field (to west and slightly south) is the surprisingly bright, but unresolved glow of:

M11 Scutum, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 5.8, Size: 14' RA: 18 51.1, Dec:-6 16, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

Any truly dark sky view of "The Wild Duck Cluster" is simply staggering. Although a three-inch scope gives the "optimal view", almost any aperture will show dozens of tiny luminous gems set against a jet-black sky. Except for the cluster's conical shape, M11's population density borders on the globular. Certainly the cluster lives up to its common name. But another is also possible - the "Snow Angel Cluster". This is suggested by the two dim "wings" of stars that sprout south and east on dark nights such as this.

The "lead bird" in the Wild Duck Cluster is a single blue 8th magnitude star. Other members of the cluster appear a full two magnitude's dimmer. Several dark obscuring bars can be seen running laterally between the primary star and a pair of equally bright eighth magnitude field stars. (This widish pair lies on the cluster's perimeter south of the core.) At higher magnifications (180X), numerous obscuration regions can be seen - even (and especially) within the bright conical region that gives the cluster its familiar name. There's probably more of M11 in the offing. Hang around a couple of million years and find out!

I slew a little more than two degrees due south of M11 to visit with a surprisingly large and bright NGC globular cluster: NGC6712. Like NGC6356 near M9, this 8.2 magnitude, 7 arc minute sized cluster is high on my personal list of "Messier's That Got Away". Certainly 2 plus arc-minute's of diaphanous light is visible. A distinctive east-west elongated central brightening is also seen. Several 8th magnitude stars are found near the cluster. (One roughly 4 arc-minutes northeast.) At 70x, NGC6712 appears "rough" to the eye. 120x shows a shimmering of faint 13.5 plus magnitude stars on eye movement. The cluster appears flattened to north and flares south-southwest on eye movement. Overall, a surprisingly large and barely resolvable cluster placed within a rich Milky Way field.

My visit with Globular NGC6712 has set me up for my next Messier find. Resuming low magnification through the main tube, I drop half a field south and two degrees west to locate:

M26 Scutum, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 8.0, Size: 15' RA: 18 45.2, Dec:- 9 24, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

M26 is the most challenging of the Messier open clusters. At 50x, a scattering of about a dozen 9th to 12th magnitude stars can be seen within a small 5 arc-minute region. Brighter members of the cluster come together to form a "kite-shaped" asterism. These are immersed in a sprinkling of fainter stars - most to the north. Medium magnifications (120x) add a dozen additional members out of the haze of background stars shimmering at lower magnification. Higher powers (180x) brings out two small flanking groups of stars leading the eye north and south. These - along with the kite shape asterism of the core - give the general appearance of a "flying diamond". This last makes the cluster quite memorable and requires high magnifications and dark skies to be brought out in a six inch scope.

Summer's most recognizable constellation now approaches culmination to the south. It's time to go "full tilt" and begin that last sweep north. The path I follow will take me through the heart of our own Milky Way. This will lead ultimately, to those final anxious moments when "rosy-fingered dawn" reaches skyward and those final few studies will (hopefully) reveal themselves to my questing eye.

So I turn the finderscope on Delta Scorpi. (The second magnitude star at the head of the Celestial Scorpion.) From Delta, I sweep due east some three degrees to turn up:

M80 Scorpio, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 7.2, Size: 9' RA: 16 17.0, Dec:-22 59, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

With that eyepiece in place, I shift to my next guide star - brilliant ruddy-faced Antares. There I check for its greenish fifth magnitude companion. With the constellation culminating to the south through such a still and transparent sky, I am rewarded with a view of the faintish green airy disk of Antares companion as it dances just outside the lashing tongues of fiery flame emanating from its primary...

From Antares I slew due west two degrees and easily make out what is perhaps the most irregularly-shaped globular cluster in the heavens, I speak of:

M4 Scorpio, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 6.0, Size: 26' RA: 16 23.6, Dec:-26 32, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

M4 is quite open for a globular. The cluster is very large - but sparse. At 50x, dozens of stars are visible using "soft eyes" - the bulk of which splay out south-southeast. Outliers may be seen 6 or 7 arc-minutes away from core central. A north-south arc of three 7th magnitude stars begins and ends somewhat east of the cluster. Most unusually, a line of unresolved stars crosses the core and gives M4 a very linear appearance. Following that line north, the glow of the smallish core region is seen at low power. At 180x, the line of stars slicing the core resolves to "a string of pearls". Meanwhile unlike M80, the core itself nearly dissolves. From the southern end of the core string, another line of stars sweeps southeast. The total effect that of a "boomerang" with leading edge just southwest of the core region. Despite the laxity of the core, it does in fact show the characteristic "blueness" of brighter globulars. M4, like many located celestially west of the galactic core in Sagittarius, appears flattened or "truncated" to that same direction...

Two other Messier studies remain to be viewed in Scorpio. These, hHowever, lie well east and very low in the sky just above the Scorpion's curling tail. Because of this, I elect to turn up the "Spout of the Sagittarian Teapot" first and center the finder on Gamma Sagittarii. Had there not been a press for time, I would begin with a leisurely sweep north from Gamma using the main tube at low power and drop in on 9th magnitude Globular Cluster NGC5422 (less than one degree northwest) and 7th magnitude Open Cluster NGC6520 (two degrees due north). Instead, I slew further north some 6 degrees. Through the finder I make out:

M8 Sagittarius, Type: Bright Nebula, Magnitude: 6, Size: 90x40' RA: 18, Dec:-24, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

The Lagoon Nebula (M8) is summer's answer to the Great Nebula of Orion. (As though this particular season needs an answer!) At 50x, three obvious lobes of nebulosity may be seen separated by dark bands. The brightest to the west, (with southern and eastern lobes dimmer respectively). A certain "round-squareness" is apparent to each lobe. This is made clearer through a nebula filter which enhances the presence of separating bars between the lobes. The western lobe shows a significant luminosity gradiant across its surface. But nowhere do I see anything like the tenuous folds and rifts visible in the Great Nebula of Orion.

At one time the Lagoon possessed four lobes of nebulosity. That fourth, (to the southeast) has now gone to seed - star seed that is. In fact, this particular seed takes the shape of a certain sweetly delicious "very low hanging fruit": The strawberry. So I've taken it on myself to give it a name - "The Srawberry Cluster". Open Cluster NGC6530 is a joy to behold even in small scopes. And even displays a certain "3-dimensional" quality. (This especially if you imagine the dozen or so brighter 9th magnitude members to be the "bumps" on its imagined strawberry surface...)

Like the Lagoon Nebula, my next study may be turned up in the finderscope as a faint region of nebulosity associated with a few bright stars. And through such a fine sky, this is precisely the case. A slight jog northwest of M20 allows me to center the main tube on:

M20 Sagittarius, Type: Bright Nebula, Magnitude: 7.5, Size: 29x27' RA: 18 02.6, Dec:-23 2, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

Overall M20 (The Trifid Nebula) is about as bright as M43 near The Great Nebula in Orion. Unlike M43, the M20 displays two lobes. Like M43, Trifid nebulosity is star-centric. The larger, more obvious lobe lies southwest and ensconces a fine double star. The dimmer lobe lies northeast. As a unit, the two lobes appear rather rectangular. A bar can be seen to distinguish them, but a nebula filter is helpful here - otherwise they tend to blend together.

As mentioned, each lobe of M20 centers on an 8th magnitude star. At 50x, the southwest star is seen double. An 8th mag blue primary is attended some 5 arc-seconds or so southwest by a red 10th magnitude secondary. At high magnification, a tighter third member can be resolved. But this requires fine four inch and larger instruments. (And may require slight aversion for detection.) In regarding this tight little trio, I am reminded of the Trapezium in M42 and of the "Strawberry Cluster" in M8. Like the Trap, we are seeing the beginnings of something that will, several million years hence, become a bona fide open cluster similar to "The Strawberry".

M21 Sagittarius, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 5.9, Size: 13' RA: 18 04.6, Dec:-22 30, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

M21 is a typical "scratch of light" open cluster through 150mm Argo. Maybe 4 X 6 arc-minutes of the cluster oriented northeast to southwest is seen. Some 2 dozen stars take on a rectangular shape at low power. At higher powers, the cluster resembles a "three-legged rearing bear with antennae". Antennae southwest, legs northeast. The bear's trunk shows a few additional 11+ magnitude stars at 120x. This particular Messier cluster displays little more real presence than the open cluster (NGC6520) I elected not to visit earlier. But, for whatever reason, Charles included it on his list - and I on mine...

There really is no good "star-hopping" or RA/DEC-slewing method to make finding this next Messier study easy. My favorite approach usually involves a visit with a pair of NGC objects (9th magnitude Globular Cluster NGC6440 and 13th magnitude planetary NGC6445) four degrees due west of Mu Sagittarii. (Interestingly, the NGC pair look quite similar in the same one degree field of view - with the "13th" magnitude planetary appearing slightly brighter than the ninth magnitude globular.) But, as it turns out, no special approach to navigation is necessary. Simply start with M21 centered in the finderscope field, sweep three degrees due north, then two due west to catch the patchy region of nebulosity called:

M23 Sagittarius, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 5.5, Size: 27' RA: 17 56.8, Dec:-10 01, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

Since that very first view of M23, I've seen it as "The Dragonfly Cluster". And so it appears on this occasion. This particular shape is suggested by a series of looping star-chains visible at low magnification. Each loop gives a very real sense of a "wing". The illiusion is completed when the eye falls on a blue-white 6th magnitude star some 30 arc minutes northwest. Between that star and the various "dragonfly wings" is a line consisting of a half-dozen 10th through 12 magnitude members. These components serving very nicely as the dragonfly's lengthy tail. In all, some seventy-five "Dragonfly Cluster" members are visible over a 20 arc-minute region of sky.

From Open Cluster M23, I sweep some four degrees due east through the finder to locate that large and intense concentration of stars that make up:

M24 Sagittarius, Type: Star Cloud, Magnitude: 4.5, Size: 90' RA: 18 16.9, Dec:-18 29, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

M24's common name is the "Small Sagittarian Star Cloud". This particular "cloud" does not obscure, but reveals. M24 is like a window into the heart of the Milky Way Galaxy. Turning one's eyes on this region is like peering through a portal into the "Holy of Holies". No one can look therein without being forever changed. Like most "mystical experiences", it is impossible to describe what can be seen (and felt) there in any meaningful way.

In exploring this region, I personally like to begin by contemplating a wide double star located due west of the star cloud's midline. From the double, I shift northeast to reflect on the hauntingly luminous glow of beatific Open Cluster NGC6603. Returning to the double, I slew slowly west and make note of a fine double-arc of stars. (These are located as far west as the double is east). Once so oriented, I begin a more free-wheeling exploration of the neighboring Heavenly Hosts. Numerous asterisms, unresolved faint glows, and dark regions of obscuration are visible - all at low magnifications.

Shifting the Small Sagittarian Star Cloud north, I sweep less than 3 degrees due east to:

M25 Sagittarius, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 4.6, Size: 32' RA: 18 31.6, Dec:-19 15, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

Like "the Dragonfly" in M23, M25 immediately reveals a shape to the imagination. This time, a "butterfly". Some 4 dozen stars are visible in the cluster magnitudes 7 to 13. Larger than M23, the M25 butterfly spreads its wings over a 30x24 arc-minute region oriented north-south. Two rows of bright stars make up its thorax. A small "number 9" shape group of 10th magnitude stars (along the northern edge of the thorax) catches my eye. Although this group's "cochlea-shape" is visible at low powers, it becomes especially salient as magnification increases.

Through the finderscope, I backtrack to eastern M25. There I sweep due north less than 3 degrees. Referencing the main tube at low power, I arrive at:

M18 Sagittarius, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 6.9, Size: 9' RA: 18 19.9, Dec:-17 08, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

Open Cluster M18's brightest members begin at about magnitude 8.5 and head south from there. At 50X, the cluster displays perhaps 2 dozen stars to magnitude 12. The group is quite oblate. (Perhaps 7X9 arc-minutes in extent oriented east-west.) In general appearance, the dozen or so brightest stars resemble a "Running Hercules". (Feet to west, arms pumping to east.) Most of these stars congregate around the "Herculean" torso and north. These, along with a few others, are all brighter than the 10th magnitude. At low power, I get a sense the cluster is embedded in the midst of a "7-lobed star" of obscuration nebula. Outside the cluster, star counts drop noticeably. In fact, were star concentrations normal to the Milky Way around the cluster, M18 would be very tough to recognize as an open cluster at all! Like most underpopulated clusters, bumping the magnification up reveals additional faint members. In M18's case, 180X brings out perhaps another dozen very faint stars.

My suspicions are that Open Cluster M18 has a ways to go before it assembles its full complement of members. The huge disparity between brighter and dimmer populations, plus relative absence of neighboring stars, all speak to the idea of a cluster emersed in dark nebulosity at an intermediate stage of formation. What seems missing is the faint nebular glow suggestive of the "prima materia" out of which the cluster may give birth.

Over the course of the evening, I've seen a wide sample of open clusters. From very dense, possibly failed globular Wild Duck Cluster through the less populated but quite uniform "Strawberry Cluster", to irregularly shaped "Running Hercules" and finally "brightly scattered" M39, each has its own unique history and destiny in the heavens.

Our own stellar neighborhood seems to include a higher proportion of "bright stars" than a purely uniform distribution should make possible. This "statistical blip" suggests that our Sun saw "first light" in an ages-old collection of stars that would easily be termed an open cluster. The fact that we live on a stoney-metallic world indicates that at one time at least one hugely massive, and short-lived, "progenitor star" was included in such a cluster's primal nebula. With the passing of that star (or stars), lower mass, longer-lived members - such as Sirius A, Alpha Centauri, Sol etc. - "held the candle" in the succeeding darkness. Over time, distances between members increased. This as dispersive factors associated with the galactic gravity well, and nearby gravitational anomolies, slowly picked the cluster apart.

Even now, by examining the full range of open clusters accessible to small scopes, we get a sense of a certain "right of passage". The Wild Duck Cluster - in its prime and fiercely proud. Trapezium - charging the Great Nebula and corraling its substance as new fires ignite therein. Modest "Strawberry Cluster" - near its formative end after lacking sufficient "prima materia" to achieve a high density population. "Running Hercules" - possibly more room for expansion and growth... M39, mature and now well into dispersion...

Thinking such thoughts (rather than simply observing) is extremely satisfying to my being. Wasn't it Immanual Kant who said, "Percepts without concepts are barren, and concepts without percepts are blind."

Have concluded my train of thougts leaves me free to continue onward toward the conclusion of my nocturnal adventure. So with eye still on low power field of view, I sweep due north less than a degree to locate:

M17 Sagittarius, Type: Bright Nebula, Magnitude: 7, Size: 46x37' RA: 18 20.8, Dec:-16 11, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

M17 is one extremely elegant nebula. This lustrous, high-contrast space-cloud looks very much a lovely swan drifting effortlessly on the ocean of space. But our Swan is not alone. As might be expected: Stars! Groups of 'em - especially to the northwest. Plenty more to come!

The Swan Nebula displays a very real sense of depth and dimensionality. To east-southeast a perfect "ducktail" comes to conclusion. From tail, consistent brightening is seen while sweeping the eye northwest along the swan's gentle form. Along that line, luminosity fails evenly off axis. The swan's head is suggested at its westernmost point. A neck can be seen arching gracefully backward. Most striking is the Swan's nape. A dark bar appears behind it. This bar appears "strategically placed" to ensure fine contrast between Swan's neck and shoulders.

Surrounding our Swan, is a faintly textured sky - especially north and east. Clearly the nebula is much larger than the 10-15 arc-minute high surface brightness region. A fact confirmed quite easily through use of nebula filter. Yet strangely, no conglomeration of neighboring stars are visible. This swan brooks no cluster. Nebulosity can exist for its own sake - very happily by my way of thinking...

From the Swan (or popularly "Omega Nebula"), I glide almost due north (and slightly west) peering through the main tube. Within two degrees I turn up:

M16 Sagittarius, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 6, Size: 35' RA: 18 18.8, Dec:-13 47, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

M16 is less open cluster and more patchwork of faint stars engulfed by expansive, low surface brightness nebulosity. In fact, M16's nebular component bears a common name: "The Eagle Nebula". On this occasion, nebulosity associated with the sparsely populated and widely scattered cluster can be seen direct. However, it is more salient through a nebula filter. On aversion, the classic "American Eagle Standing Erect, Wings Widely Spread" shape (seen in astrophotos) is faintly suggested. Truthfully though, the kind of contrast and presence seen within Lagoon or Swan Nebulae is not seen. In fact, the Eagle Nebula appears less "present" than low 14.5 magnitude average surface brightness Trifid. However, what luminosity it possesses is more uniformly distributed. Based on this, I estimate the integrated magnitude of the Eagle Nebula itself to lie somewhere in the range of 7.0 - one magnitude dimmer than that of its associated cluster.

Without nebula filter, I can in fact, hold a dim band of nebulosity stretching southeast to northwest. East of the northwest extension, lies the main concentration of cluster stars. Not more than three dozen of which are visible all told. One group (already mentioned, and by far the most populous) is found northwest. A half dozen 8th magnitude stars populate this region - two appear a well matched double (separation roughly 15 arc-seconds, oriention north-south). Southeast of this main group is another three or four 8th magnitude members. West of that, a third group with two 8th mag components. The cluster, as a whole, spreads perhaps 20 by 15 arc-minutes along a southwest to northeast major axis. Member stars range in brightness from magnitude 8 to 12. The cluster's center is large but appears almost star-free. At 70X, I can see several faint 11th and 12th magnitude members - located especially to the west.

Given a personal tendency to imagine asterisms in any group of stars, I see the entire collection taking on the likeness of a "Knight's Noble Steed" - head south, hooves west. Though the cluster may be appreciated in a four inch instrument, the nebula itself is best seen through ten inch and larger scopes at lowest possible powers with nebula filter. (The use of a filter is a must in larger instruments when operating at the bottom of their useful magnification range.) Not surpisingly, smaller scopes capable of 30x magnification and good sky-darkening (such as the 80mm Pup), can give almost equal views - though lacking in image scale. Meanwhile, long focus six-inch instruments (such as F12 150mm Argo) are at a bit of a loss: Such scopes being "Neither fish nor fowl"...

Had the season been truly summer and time not a factor, I would ordinarily continue my sweep northeast along the Great River of Lights into Scutum. Through finderscope, numerous knots and large, dark regions of obscuration would be seen. These could then be explored in detail at lowest possible magnification through the main tube. Certainly along the way, I would encounter "globular-esque" M11 - "The Wild Duck Cluster". And much in the way of "quality time" could be spent contemplating that particular "Angelic Host"...

But time now weighs heavy on me. It is 4 o'clock in the morning, and though there is a decent chance I can complete my "Year in a Night" tour, I stay with the plan and drop south back into Sagittarius. There to locate 3rd magnitude Lambda Sagittarii - the "Teapot's Lid". From Lambda, a quick low power sweep one degree northwest reveals:

!! M28 Sagittarius, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 6.9, Size: 11' RA: 18 24.5, Dec:-24 52, Optimal Scope Size: 100mm.

At 50X, M28 shows a solid 6 arc-minutes of apparent size. Like most globulars, there is a bit of an axial skew (in this case, south-southeast to north-northwest). Unlike many dimmer cluster's, M28's 6.9 magnitude, 11 arc-minute sized globe shows the full panoply of globular features: Starlike core with bright core region ensconced in a luminous halo surrounded by dim aura of diaphanous luminosity. A close look shows a vague flattening southwest. Eye movement reveals flaring to all directions - especially southeast. The cluster is very blue and appears rough to the eye at low magnifications.

At slightly higher powers (70X), the background sky darkens enough for scintillation to be detected. Moderate magnifications (120X) reveal a half-dozen stars - using extreme aversion. Pushing magnification further (180X), shows a dozen members under moderation. Like M80, M28's core integrity is such that it can even be seen at outrageously high powers (540X through 150mm Argo). But unless skies are especially still, nothing is gained by doing so (in terms of resolution).

Having viewed the bright, tight M28, I am now led to the finest of all globular's well-met from temperate northern latitudes. For you see, some three degrees east (and slightly north) lies an extraordinary finderscope study, the incomparable:

M22 Sagittarius, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 5.1, Size: 24' RA: 18 36.4, Dec:-23 54, Optimal Scope Size: 50mm.

Globular Cluster M22 is for everyone. Sure, Omega Centauri is brighter and larger, but Omega is a southern observer's delight - just as The Great Hercules Cluster is our own. Easily 15 arc-minutes in diameter, hundreds of ten plus magnitude stars (many across the core) are solvable. "The Great Cluster of Sagittarius"'s visibly elongate core region lies along the axis of skydrift and an incalcuable number of distant outliers can be seen to accompany it. Meanwhile, curious voids and long, thin bars slice through that core region at high magnifications (180x+). Strangely though, no star chains or arcs are in evidence. Simply far too many glowing points of fire for the eye to group in the usual fashion! On any clear and reasonably steady night, this globular is the ultimate treat through any telescope worthy of the name...

Just as Cygnus and Lyra dominate the northern sky during Summer, Sagittarius and Scorpio dominate the southern. But here all similarities end. For from northern climes, Lyre and Swan can be seen to hang leisurely in the sky over an immensely long season. (In fact, from Summer's longest day to Winter's longest night!) Not so these two southern prizes. Their season is short, and opportunities to view their denizens respectably above the horizon are few and far between. For this reason, I abandoned Scorpio earlier after visiting with globulars M4 and 80 at the Head of the Scorpion. But now (as the hour approachs 4:30), I take up the two Messier open cluster's near the Scorpion's Tail. This as that tail just clears the treeline to the south-southeast.

To locate my next study, I trace by eye the long hooked form of the Scorpion's body south and east beginning at its claws. Past luminous Antares, the angle becomes more severe. At Epsilon (midway along the creatures spine), it breaks almost due south. Near Zeta, a knot of stars marks another change in flow. Here the Scorpion's curved and venomous tail begins. Due east and at Theta, the angle changes again - curving north to Lambda. An abrupt change due east leads to the star forming the very tip of the Scorpion's tail star - third magnitude G Scorpii. Centering the finder on G, I adjust slightly more than two degrees northeast to pick out:

M7 Scorpio, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 3.3, Size: 80' RA: 17, Dec:, -34 Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

At low power, this large cluster spills well-outside the low power one degree field of view. At center lies a "lazy-H" shaped region giving a sense of "core". Perhaps a hundred stars visible as a whole. Due to its large apparent size, M7's star-density is low. Member stars range in magnitude from 6 to 12. Many brighter stars situate to the west. Turning 180X on a randomly chosen void in the midst of the core reveals half-dozen 12+ magnitude stars. Like Praesepe (M44), M7 includes numerous faint members requiring ever larger apertures for revelation.

On the outskirts of M7 (to the northeast) lies a very small (4 arc minute), faint (9.9 magnitude) globular cluster: NGC6453. Given a good night of south sky seeing, this cluster reveals a wispy-round appearance at moderate powers. NGC6453 also shows a sense of central condensation. Though visible in a six inch, the cluster can more easily be held through 8 inch and larger scopes. On this particular night, a slight amount of aversion makes it plain through 150mm Argo at 70x. In my experence, NGC6453 is the dimmest cluster to give a sense of "structure" through such an instrument.

Referencing the finder, I move slightly more than three degrees northwest to easily turn up:

M6 Scorpio, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 4.2, Size: 15' RA: 17, Dec:-32, Optimal Scope Size: 50mm.

Like M25 in Sagittarius, this roughly 25 X 20 arc-minute scattering of 7 to 12th magnitude stars also looks like a "butterfly". M6's "wings" are easily seen as "two pendulous lobes" hanging obliquely east and west of the cluster's main body. Seventy-five or so blue and blue-white stars are visible at low power. What may be M6's brightest member is located well-off on the northeast frontier. Most of the cluster's bright stars take positions along sinuous chains or ribbons. These fold and enfold - trapping several "star-voids" within their chains. High power uncovers several dim stars. These pop into view like shy-children regarding an unknown visitor. A most subtley engaging clutch of stars...

As fiery Antares culminates to south, I return to The Archer and begin the last leg of my final southern swing. To do so, I select the star that makes up the western base of the Teapot. There, at 2nd magnitude Epsilon, I shift the finder two degrees northeast to locate a wide pair of fifth magnitude stars. Centering the maintube on the western member of the pair, I make a low power sweep due north one degree to view:

M69 Sagittarius, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 7.7, Size: 7' RA: 18 31.4, Dec:-32 21, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

Globular M69 gives a general appearance similar to that of M80. Small, compact, moderately bright, and generally unresolvable. The cluster sits about 6 arc-minutes southeast of a bluish 7th magnitude star. Proximity to this star makes finderscope detection difficult. The 70X view appears "rough" with incipient resolution. About half the cluster's documented size is seen direct. The usual star-like core is not seen. In its place a round, bright, core center surrounded by distinct core region is detected. The cluster flares southeast on eye movement. Corresponding to this flare is a sense of flattening to west. With better sky position, high power resolution should be possible - but not on this occasion. A sense of dozens of resolvable members hover just beyond the limiting threshold magnitude of sky and scope. What may be two 13th mag outliers scintillate perceptibly.

At low power, I slew the main tube less than three degrees due east to pick out:

M70 Sagittarius, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 8.1, Size: 8' RA: 18 43.2, Dec:-32 18, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

My, this baby is small! Most of the cluster's light concentrates in starlike core and core region. Certainly that region does not appear much larger than 2 arc-minutes in diameter. The remainder of the cluster seems a hazy mantle that flares to all directions on eye movement. This expands the cluster outward about 3 arc-minutes in every direction. Eye movement also shows a slight preferential expansion southeast and a bit of flattening to west. The cluster terminates a "crooked line" of 8th magnitude stars from the northeast. Two 12th magnitude stars are visible due west at higher magnifications. At 70X the cluster appears unresolvable. At 180X, it begins to get a bit lively as the eye sweeps over it. Maybe a half-dozen outliers can be seen on eye movement. Brightest members of this concentrated globular probably shine at around magnitude 14.2.

Through the finder, I slew east-northeast to pick out a trio of 5th and 6th magnitude stars. (This group lies south-southwest of 2nd magnitude Zeta Sagittarii.) Centering on the middle, northern star, I switch to the main tube and slew slightly west to detect:

M54 Sagittarius, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 7.7, Size: 9' RA: 18 55.1, Dec:-30 29, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

The previous group of globular clusters were all quite close to one another placed within the Sagittarian Teapot. To locate my next study takes a bit of "astral-geometry". I locate Lambda and Zeta Sagittarii, and construct a line to the southeast. I terminate that line at a distance roughly equal to the distance between my two guide stars. Orienting the barrel of the scope to that point, I check the finder field and pick out a single 5th magnitude star near the center of the field. Centering this star at the crosshairs, I switch to main tube and sweep northwest two degrees. In this very precarious way, I turn up:

M55 Sagittarius, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 7.0, Size: 19' RA: 19 40.0, Dec:-30 58, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

Hello! This is one very open globular cluster. A multitude of fine, easily resolved 11h and 12th magnitude stars spread oblately over some 12 arc-minutes of apparent space. At 70x, several dozen stars readily visible with the least bit of aversion. At 120X, maybe seventy-five to one hundred members seen - dozens direct. By 180X, the group takes up more than two-thirds of the 17 arc-minute field of view. Best view of this large and loosely constructed globular cluster is at 120x. Quite a surprise after the three compact globulars previously tracked down. The line between Globular Cluster M55 and Open Cluster M11 is very fine indeed!

Had little trouble characterizing the shape of the cluster. One thing noticed was a group of four brightish outlying stars framing it (inside a parallelogram). Three of the four stars were visibly brighter than the fourth. The effect became one of a triangle with apex to west. Within the triangle many cluster stars could be seen. This gives the appearance of a sunfish with height much greater than length. Add to this the three framing bright stars and voila: You get an "Angelfish". (The western star marking the nose while the other two its dorsal and abdominal fins.)

M55 prompts me to think back on the many globular clusters seen during the course of the night. As I do so, a picture emergee. Certainly, cluster encounters increased as the night plan brought me closer to the center of the Milky Way Galaxy in Sagittarius. I can recall but one fine example from the winter season, for instance. That example (M79 in Lepus) lies well out away from our own world outwar in the direction of the Milky Way's Orion Spiral Arm. Spring's count in fine globular clusters (like Autumn's) is modest but certainly exceeds that of Winter. The handful of accessible Spring and Fall clusters lie well off at right angles to the galactic plane. Cluster's like M3 and M53 of Spring, plus M2 and 15 of Autumn are also well displaced from the galactic core but physically may very well lie within the ring-pass-not of the Solar System's orbit around that center.

While actually observing many of the finer examples of globular clusters, eye movement detects a sort of "flaring" towards the galactic core. Meanwhile, direct observation often shows a pattern of flattening or "truncation" away from it. Could it be that the action of the galaxy's gravitational force is "tidal"? Are cluster's "trailing stars behind them" torn away by our own galaxy's gravitational field? Are globular "far sides" more securely pinned down because of the combined gravitational forces of cluster and core? Yes, of course! Finally many globular's appear "distended" or elongated. Could this be the visual signature of elliptical component star orbits as they "swirl around" the cluster's own center of influence?

The fact that globulars are actually composed of "stars" is plain enough. Larger, brighter clusters often "resolve" to at least a few starlike components at higher magnifications. As seeing improves, more such points are seen. As scope apertures increase, even more componnent stars are revealed. So it makes sense that that's all there are. Stars, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands - possibly millions. Like the infamous turtles holding up the world, "It's stars, all the way down."

Of course, none of these speculations are unique to me. They are all well-established astronomical facts. The important thing is the sense of the kind of observing and thinking that went into arriving at these facts. Astronomer's observed - initially through poor equipment and without benefit of photography. As they did so, they noticed these same basic traits and characteristics. Attempts were made to explain these traits. Clues were gathered from other areas of science - mechanics, for instance. Later as the first early instruments began to "resolve" globulars, it became clear that, like open clusters, they were made up of stars.

My own working "meta-theory" is that globular clusters are failed dwarf galaxies. Forces at work in the universe take inchoate matter (the prima materia of nebulae) and condense it into structures - vast and not so vast. Such structures enform based on two primary influences - that of gravitation and inertia. Where matter is highly concentrated, gravitation rules. Where weakly concentrated, inertia. Open clusters (as structures) tend to be ruled more by inertia than gravitation. Radiation pressure of the few short-lived "progenitor Suns" created shock waves. These waves concentrated enough matter to overcome inertia - but few stars result and low density open clusters form. Where a great deal of prima materia exists (along with greater than normal initial concentrations), gravitational forces rule and globular clusters develop. (Quite possibly in a very rapid and powerful paroxism of creation.) Where sufficient concentration, distribution, and coherence all coexist, galaxies result. Likewise where there is insuffiency, globular or open clusters manifest. Globular clusters for instance, may have possessed enough initial mass and concentration to form a "small galactic core". But not enough extended density and distribution existed to form a core region where ongoing stellar creation was possible. Since there formation (billions of years in the past approximating to the time of galaxy-formation), only the very outermost stars have been stripped away. Meanwhile, remaining low density nebulae continue to form open clusters to this day. But tidal forces being what they are, these disperse over millions - rather than billions - of years.

As for individual stars, much diversity of luminosity, color and distribution is seen. Along the Milky Way, a multitude of stars can easily be found with or without instrumentation. Elsewhere, star counts fall off precipitously. Edge on galaxies show us why. The Sombrero Galaxy (M104) displays a decided dark bar of obscuration nebulosity along its bulging lentticular edge. Much in the way of prima materia is found therein - the originating stuff of stars.

Bright stars may be so by proximity or luminosity. Dim ones by great distance, or lack of inherent brightness. Star colors betray something of age or status. Red stars glow cooly in the night. Blue ones radiate savagely. Stars may be young or old. Blue, yellow, and white stars live mostly in their prime. Some very small examples of the same may quite possibly lie well into the final stages of collapse. Red stars may be either young or old - but rarely exist in their prime. It is a stage of increasing or decreasing solar fire - not one of rhythm and consistency.

Planetary nebulae tell us of a star's ultimate destiny. Outer layers of gases may be thrown off in violent eruption as central furnaces die down then flare up in collapse. Unremitting gravitation forces constantly place a strnglehold on a stars core - like an anaconda - squeezing the last vestiges of life out of what little regenerate matter remains to feed the nuclear fire...

Meanwhile, orbiting many stars are world's such as our own. A few fall into the "comfort zone" between an excess of chemically-activating heat and -deprivating cold. Life finds a way everywhere such worlds are found. Just as it does in some of the coldest and hottest regions of extremity on our own Blue Planet.

And where there is life, eventually there is intelligence. You can count on it! But intelligent life may only emerge on the most long-lived and stable of planets. And on worlds where a delicate balance exists between edenic sameness, and environmental catastrophe...

Having reflected on things cosmological, I begin the tricky task of tracking down my final Summer Messier study. To do so, I locate the southernmost member of the Summer Triangle - fair Altair. From Altair, I follow the line of the Eagle's eastern wing southeast to pick out that pair of third magnitude stars marking the western prow of the Capricornian "boat" just above the treeline to the southeast. Centering the finder on Beta Capricorni, I reference the finder and drop four degrees due south to locate a fifth magnitude star just west of the center of the finderview. Centered thereon, I drop less than three degrees to a solitary sixth magnitude star - again slightly west. Centering once again, I sweep due west less than three degrees to pick out:

M75 Sagittarius, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 8.6, Size: 6' RA: 20 06.1, Dec:-21 55, Optimal Scope Size: 200mm.

Dawn approaches, and that first 50X view against a mildly indigo sky is not overwhelming to my appreciation. Bright starlike core within one or two arc-minute core region. M75 does not appear as blue as most - but sky position is sapping it of presence. Not one of the brightest examples of its kind. Needless to say, even at 180x, little sign of resolution - nor roughness or scintillation on eye movement. There is however, a sense of north-south orientation. Outside a small core region, the dim halo appears to flare somewhat south and flatten west. At 180x the globular "rounds out" to the northwest and throws a cometlike tail south-southeast. There is no doubt that somewhere between 8.2 magnitude / 7 arc-minute M56 and 8.6 magnitude 6 arc-minute M75 is a divide for a 150mm scope. It is just possible however, that higher sky position could close the gap...

As early autumn's Messier denizens spin into view, it is clear that dawn is now in the offing. Summer's superb offering of clusters and nebulae kept me wakeful and alert. Only the last few studies of the the season proved any real navigational challenge. It is at this moment, with goal so close, that I begin to indulge in doubts concerning my night-long venture. Will I actually be able to track down those last few studies as the Sun struggles to reclaim the sky for itself alone? If so, have I sullied myself by not giving each study the care and appreciation it deserves? Truly this last is the rub! Better to contemplate the few studies well, than the many poorly...

But now is not time for debilitating introspection. Another very dim, globular cluster awaits. Thankfully, it takes position further north than M75. Even so it scarcely clears the southeast treeline. To locate it, I return to the western prow of Capricorn's boat. There to pin down the northern star of the wide visual third magnitude pair referenced earlier. Beginning at Alpha, I sweep due east six degrees, seeking a solitary 6th magnitude star. Thankful of care taken in aligning the mount the evening before, I center the finder and switch to the main tube. A low power sweep of the field less than on degree east turns up:

M72 Aquarius, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 9.4, Size: 6' RA: 20 53.5, Dec:-12 32, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

M72 is the most challenging of the 29 Messier globular clusters. At magnitude 9.4, almost beyond detection at low power under just about any circumstances. Small, dim and difficult, I am amzed that my benefactor (Charles Messier) ever managed to turn this one up.

The cluster is seen at the tip of a small right triangle of 10th/11th magnitude stars (cluster leads to west). Barely possible to hold it direct at 70X. Maybe 2 arc-minutes of faint glow oriented north-south is seen. Eye movement reveals an almost star-like core. The brighter edge of the cluster trails. If there be flare at all, then to the southwest. If truncated, then east. Three dim 13th magnitude stars surround it - perhaps 3 arc-minutes from the core. Since the brightest members of most clusters rarely exceed the luminosity of the group as a whole by 5 magnitudes, these three are no doubt "line-o-sighters".

Having located Globular M72 simplifies tracking down my next Messier study. To do so, shifted the cluster to the northern edge of the 70X field then swept due east less than a degree and a half. This revealed:

M73 Aquarius, Type: Asterism, Magnitude:, Size: ' RA: 20 58.9, Dec:-12 38, Optimal Scope Size: 250mm.

Like "double star" M40, asterism M73 is an anomalous class of study whose "nebulous appearance" qualified for Messier's list of "comet-like" objects. Through 150mm Argo, the asterism appears a small (2 arc-minute sized) triangle of three stars (10 to 12th magnitudes). Brightest to south, middling north of that, and dimmest to west (between the two brighter members). 120x inspection shows the 12th magnitude star really to be a double - separated by about 10 arc-seconds. At 180x can almost hold both faint stars direct. By my lights, these four stars appear joined in some way (other than strictly line of sight). A certain palpable sense of "community" is detectable about them.

Had I been observing the region in its own season, there is no question that I would swing the two degrees northeast to track down the surprisingly bright, colorful and well-defined "Saturn Nebula": NGC7009. However, with approach of dawn I make haste, and instead center on second magnitude Beta Aquarii some six degrees northeast of M72 and 73. With Beta at finderscope center, I slew five degrees north and one east to center on a faint fuzzy star:

M2 Aquarius, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 6.5, Size: 13' RA: 21 33.5, Dec:-00 49, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

Under dark skies, and when well-positioned, Globular Cluster M2's center and core region appears about 5 arc-minutes in size with visible northeast to southwest elongation. At 70x, very lively. The almost ubiquitous sense of globular flattening seen northwest. Flaring to southeast. At higher magnifications, hundreds of stars hang on the very verge of resolution. Several direct at 120x. Dozens under extreme aversion at 180x. A bright (field?) star lies 3 arc-minutes east. But alas, low sky and late hour, yields only a 2-3 arc-minute sized core-region with rapidly dimmming corona. This cluster may very well be the most uniformly dense and brilliant cluster readily visible in the night sky. Consider Scorpio's M80 - a little closer to home...

Referencing ther finderscope, I sweep due north some ten degrees. Like M2, this next study turns up as a faint fuzzy star:

M15 Pegasus, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 6.4, Size: 12' RA: 21 30, Dec:12 10, Optimal Scope Size: 75mm.

Globular M15 lies within a large flat triangle of three 7th magnitude stars. The cluster shares top Fall honors with the fine M2 to the south. Like M2, M15 suffers from current sky and hour. In its season, M15 possesses a brilliant, blue, and very compact core. (That core, however appears visibly smaller than M2's.) Surrounding M15's core is a rapidly fading core region. This in turn, is encompassed by a large 8 arc-minute sized diaphanous mantle. If M15 is flattened at all, it is to the west. Normally two or three dozen stars can be resolved through 150mm Argo. At 180x, fewer stars resolve east of the cluster than elsewhere. Even at 180x, the core remains star-like.

It is now five in the morning. I anxiously peer to the southeast to locate my next study. From the very beginning I was aware that this penultimate study would prove problematic. The Sun would be within an hour of rising. Treeline very close. It's difficult work to quell my anxiety. I begin my quest by locating the two eastern stars that make up the Capricornian "aft". At 5am from 40 degrees north latitude they have in fact cleared the horizon. But not the trees. It would be another thirty minutes before they would emerge above the foliage. - I am foiled. And it is clear that there is little likelyhood that dropping the five degrees south of the nearer star of the "ship's aft" (fourth magnitude Gamma Capricorni) would reveal:

M30 Capricorn, Type: Globular Cluster, Magnitude: 7.5, Size: 11' RA: 21 40.4, Dec:-23 11, Optimal Scope Size: 125mm.

So I fall back on my notes and reflect on previous visits with the globular. M30 never quite reaches more than thirty degrees above the horizon from most locales. Despite this, some resolution is possible (perhaps a dozen members at 180x). The bulk of the visible stellar members are seen north of the core. The core itself shows a starlike center, with maybe a one arc-minute sized core region surrounding it. Very blue. Flattening visible to west and flare to southeast. A dim halo may be seen all the way around the cluster at 70X. This effectively quadruples the visible extent of the cluster to maybe 5 or 6 arc-minutes. The interesting thing about M30 is it's shape. Looked a bit like the Egyptian "Ankh" - but without cross arms. At 120X, the base of the Ankh resolves into a pair of stars (visible under aversion). At 180x, additional stars can be seen in the general locale. M30 is another case for higher sky position - or a darker view to the south.

So licking my mental wounds, I turn to the northwest and catch ascending, circumpolar Cassiopeia. There I follow the line of Alpha and Beta upward towards Cepheus. Extending a line segment the distance separating the pair of bright Cassiopaens, I center the finder on a fifth magnitude star forming a tringle with a pair of nearby sixth magnitude stars. Descending due south by less than a degree, I turn up:

M52 Cassiopeia, Type: Open Cluster, Magnitude: 6.9, Size: 13' RA: 23 24.2, Dec:61 35, Optimal Scope Size: 150mm.

Many open clusters are suggestive of things terrestrial. Take any collection of objects (say coins) put them in a cup shake em up and spill em out on the floor. Then let your imagination go to work. You will eventually see something. To me Messier 52 looks like a building. At first, a church. Now I'm thinking something more Eastern - Shinto temple perhaps. Now, it's clear that this appeared some kind of "Holy Place" to my eye. Besides the shape, there is also a sense of being "set apart". Field stars seemed to ring all about this Temple - but at a respectful distance. At the time, thought of this star-poor encirclement as a "moat". But in that case M52 would be a castle. Actually not too bad an idea in itself... But I'm more personally inclined to the idea of the Holy Shrine idea. A place to go when troubled, or to give thanks to the Universe for everything. Thus, Open Cluster M52 is a Celestial Shrine.

This particular shrine is oriented north-south. About four dozen stars, magnitudes eight to twelve, are visible at 50x. The shrine's "steeple" lies to the north. To the south is the sanctuary per se. At 120x, I step inside and see half-dozen thirteenth magnitude stars within. Perhaps stars, like people, need a place to turn when troubled, feeling a need to express gratitude, or seeking guidance from on high.

To observe the night sky is to get in touch with a much larger universe. It is to expand perception to include things that others - around the world, or even in distant galaxies - can also see. To look upon the huge elliptical galaxy M85, for instance, is to see a beacon whose influence spreads throughout hundreds of millions of light years of space. At some time, now long past, electromagnetic wave-particles from that source began a journey through time and space. Ultimately those emissions, after incalcuable eons, were captured by an instrument made of refined star stuff. And that instrument funnelled those same photons into your eyes. And because of this, M85 becomes part of you and part of everyone who turns scope and eye skyward to consciously and intelligently participate in the "Great Festival of Lights" which is The Manifest Universe.

The following table may be useful to some when actually participating in a Messier Marathon. In putting this plan together every effort was made to group studies for ease of navigation while also giving the best possible views under the circumstances.

Because many of the Messier studies are grouped by sky position, a column for best month of detailed observation is included. Time of night is assumed to be early after skydark with the study-group ascending. (This allows for more comfortable scope position and improving view as the Earth turns during the session.)

Time	Direction	Studies	Comment	Month
7:10	W	M77&74	Tough Finds!	November
7:25	NW	M31,32&110	Low Sky	October
7:30	NNW	M103,76,33,(74)	Late Dusk	November
7:50	SSW	M79,42,43&78	Skydark at last!	February
8:05	S	M47,46,93	Culminating	March
8:20	NW	M34	A Bit Low	December
8:30	SSW	M41&50	Decent Sky	February
8:40	W	M45,1,38,36,37&35	Decent Sky	January
9:15	Up	M48,67&44	Sky's Middle Third	February
9:30	NNE	M81,82,108,97,109,40&106	Middle Third	March
10:00	Up	M96, 95, 105, 65, 66	Culminating	March
10:30	E	M98,99,100,85,84,86,87,89,88,91,90,58,59,60	Galaxies Galore!	April
11:30	SSE	M53,64,104,68,61&49	Decently Placed	May
12:30	Up	M101,94,63,51&3	Middle Third	April
1:15	S	M83	Culminating	May
1:30	SSE	M5	Entering Middle Third	June
1:45	E	M13&92	Entering Middle Third	June
2:00	SE	M10,12,107,14,9,19&62	Ascending	June
2:50	ENE	M56&57	Ascending	June
3:00	E	M71,27,29&39	Ascending	June
3:20	ESE	M11&26	Ascending	June
3:30	S	M80&4	Culminating	June
3:40	SE	M8,20,21,23,24,25,18,17,16,28&22	Treeline!	July
4:20	SSE	M7&6	Treeline!	July
4:30	ESE	M69,70,54,55&75	Treeline!	July
4:50	ESE	M72,73,2,15&30	Treeline!	September
5:15	NE	M52	Dawn!	September