Reports for June, 2001
Establishing New Rhythms
"The Scopist"
Mars under a Cloud
A Tale of Too Many Time Zones
Rival of Mars Has "Dim" Companion!
Race Against the Moon
Stepping Up to the Plate
Joni's Cluster
Blue Sky by Day, Overcast by Night
El Cielo de la Noche
Timely and Well Met
Different Scopes for Different Folks
The REAL THING!
Time Enough...
Against a Pitch Black Sky...
Hard Work in Playland
Intuition
Weather as of Late
It's There, But Where?
Taking Play, Seriously
Nothing Blinking
Sounds Alot Like People
July Ends with a Flourish
And Oh, By the Way...
Reports for August, 2001

Establishing New Rhythms

It has been ten days since last Mars drawing. Lest readers feel I've been remiss in "Mars Questing", I can only defend my reputation by the power of sheer mathematics: "7 days of overcast + 2 days of poor seeing = 9".

That 9 days has seen a lot of change in the planet's presentation. Mare Erythraeum (earthwest in sketch) is once again rotating into view. Aeonius Sinus and Solis Lacus dominate the southern temperate region (near Mars central meridian). Mare Sirenum exits presentation eartheast. In the north temperate region, Idacus Fons precedes Niliacus Lacus, and Mare Acidalium. Mare Boreum faintly delineates the north polar region.

Of course, all this is illusory. On Mars, Mare Sirenum is experiencing morning-tide. Mares Erythraeum and Acidalium are dropping into the planets own shadow. Some lucky Erythraeum-based Martian amateur astronomer is getting ready for what could be a long evening of incredibly clear and still skies...

Several reports back I discussed the need to "find a balance" between "amateur astronomy" (with its rigors, strictures, and frustrations) and "stargazing" (unplanned, impulsive and often poorly cognized). Now a second "question of balance" surfaces for clarification.

How much astronomy, is enough astronomy?

Amongst astronomers there are those who feel guilty if they do not observe every clear night (that some other clear obligation does not perempt). Others, are content to occasionally "dust off the scope" and point it in the general direction of the night sky. Like most questions of balance, the answer lies somewhere in between. And the right answer is not necessarily the same for each questioner: Those who have read "Lost Horizons" may be familiar with this phrase: "Everything in moderation - even moderation." And thus the ambiguities multiply...

So arriving at my own sense of balance is something that is particular to who and what I am. My answer is not your answer - but maybe my answer can help you arrive at your own...

Frankly I have been observing too much - and it is easy for me to tell that this is so. How? Because when something I love becomes something I hate I've been doing too much of it. Every action, thought, feeling, and word has an affect. Each such effect is similar to "biochemical discharge". The particular discharge may be pleasant or no. However, if indulged in, serious imbalances may result. Once discharge levels exceed the body's natural limits, a "pole flip" occurs: The activity releasing the discharge becomes distasteful. Think of all this as the corporeal corrollary to a psychological phenomenon.

So what is the remedy? Time off - of course! And I've had some.

How do you know when you've recovered? Well, the originating motivation to do anything wholesome is always valid. - You just wait for it to re-assert itself. And I'm beginning to "get the urge". - Now if that blasted Moon wasn't around to spoil the view!

Speaking of the Moon - I got a nice view of Mare Humorum last night. What caught my eye was the sense that someone had just "hosed down" the side closest to the terminator. This gave it a nice "glassy" appearance. Meanwhile, Crater Gassendi - with its high, but obliquely broken ramparts - looked especially sharp and detailed. Balancing Gassendi's clarity was poor overwhelmed Letronne to the northeast.

Spent some time observing Plato - and have to fess up - "My name is Jeff and I am a "scopist". I love exploring the limits of eye and equipment. Caught three small depressions in Plato's otherwise flat and dark-surfaced walled plain. Interestingly, the largest depression was easily seen at 70X (25mm ultrascopic) and was tougher at 180X (10mm). Neither of the others could be held directly. I'd say the seeing near the Moon at the time was - at best- 6/10. That near Mars (much lower) was the minimum 5/10 needed to do a sketch.

Meanwhile overhead, things were much better. Both Epsilon-1 and Epsilon-2 cleanly separated. I could just hold the 12.5 magnitude come at 360X. Near the Ring, the 13.0 star could be caught on eye movement - while the 12.8 could be held with averted vision. So, telescopically anyway, the sky had a ULTM of 4.5. The Moon does not tolerate much in the way of competition from other celestial luminaries (although Mars gave it a go).

Earlier in the evening, I turned up M13. This was soon after I started observing for the evening. At first, between the Moon and a lack of visual adaptation, the Great Cluster in Hercules was only a pale roundish ghost haunting the heavens. After about five minutes, individual stars emerged. By the time my eyes fully adapted - and despite the 60% moon, I could see numerous stars - but only using indirect vision. Under such conditions none of the great looping chains of stars seen on a really dark, steady night were possible.

Tried to split Delta Cygni. The sky (at 7/10) just isn't quite good enough. (Delta had entered the middle third but was showing irregular diffraction rings surrounding a nice airy disk.) The only time I can recall seeing Delta's close 6th magnitude companion was under 8/10 stability - so Delta is a test for very good seeing...

Speaking of seeing... As I write this, tonights sky looks to be clearing up. I'll probably take a few minutes around ten o'clock or so to do a bit of 'gazing. If the sky is especially steady - might even make another Mars sketch.

Hasta la Vista.

"The Scopist"

By age twelve, I had became "near sighted" (or perhaps more correctly "myopic"). The usual cure was implemented (glasses). And I went about my life. By age thirty, I noticed my specs becoming more part of the problem than solution. After each checkup, the optician would dutifully prescribe something a wee bit stronger. (In my opinion, the degeneration was caused by co-dependancy.) So I quit wearing glasses. (Unless necessary for driving or while determining unaided visual limiting magnitude). In addition to minimizing eyeglass use, I began a regimen of accupressure and palming excercises which - if not actually correcting my vision - have at least staved off the ravages of time.

All of the above is offered in a feeble attempt to explain my "scopist" tendencies. That is, a personal predilection for "crystal clear" images through Argo and the Pup. The same rationale applies to my disposition for careful monitoring of seeing conditions. It also applies to a preference to view certain objects (such as Moon & planets) on stable seeing nights, and other objects (bright nebulae and galaxies) on dark sky nights. (You will note that several classes of celestial studies have been excluded - I prefer stars, planetary nebulae, globular and open clusters through both dark and stable skies - otherwise they are less than engaging.)

But as stated, all of the above is merely a rationale. The fact is, there is something about seeing things clearly that has an archetypal hold me. Much of my inner life is a motion toward the culture of understanding. And "clarity of perception" is an essential tool in this regard. As has been aptly said: "Garbage in, garbage out."

BUT, there are other imperatives that can drive personal culture and predispose inclinations. One often bandied about is "love". One can take up amateur astronomy out of the "love" of the night sky and all it contains. When one is in love, one sees through "rose colored glasses". Quality of image is therefore not so important. "Star lovers" are generally not scopists. They see things as they imagine them to be. "Star lovers" make wonderful "stargazers". Each night is like a rushing into the arms of the beloved. It is wonderful to be a stargazer - and as such do I so aspire.

A third, but by no means final, motivation for observing is DISCIPLINE. Few are they who are called to "our High Art and Science" through this particular inner prompting. There is something dry, possibly exploitative, and potentially stale about this path. Those who choose it are "Men and Women of Power". They know from experience and interior reflection that to set out to do something possessed of plan and intent is to evoke an "obstructional counterforce" that seeks to delay, distract, deter and derail. Such observers also know - based on that same experience and interior reflection - that to persevere in moving forward despite adversity is to invoke from within an impenetrable core of strength, integrity, and vitality. Such virtues do not arise from desire, nor from understanding - but from will alone...

So let's see, why did I observe last night? Out of understanding? Sure, that's part of me. Love? Sometimes but not last night. Power? Well, a little - after all - there is MarsQuest!

And what did I come to understand? Luna is far more interesting to the eye when you get a clear look at it! (Stability was 7/10 near the Moon last night. Crater Shickard had a very precise far wall and Plato revealed five "bright depressions" associated with small craterlets.)

And what did I come to love? I loved the way Shickard "mounded up" in the middle. Nice dome-like appearance. Sweetly dimensional and engaging. - But then what I am refering to as Shickard may not be its real name - but who cares! I loved it as Shickard - so it must be so!

And what did I intend? Why MarsQuest, of course!

This sketch, ladies and gentlemen, comes out of as good a view of Mars as I am going to get during this apparition. Local stability (near Mars) had to be 6/10. So much detail hovered on the brink of revelation that, had I seen it - I doubt I would even have made an attempt at a sketch! So close, yet so far. In fact, had the detail been even a bit sharper I would have been tempted to use the tip of the pencil instead of the side. My only regret is the fact that son Eric had the good barlow and I had to make do with the ghastly 350X view through the shorty. (No Eric, I really am glad you took it and the Pup with you on your trip - really!)

After viewing Mars, turned Argo on the Double Double (for the second time). Strangely, the sky overhead was only marginally better than the sky down low - maybe 7/10. (Earlier in the evening the Double Double was a very clean split.) I followed this with a look at Delta Cygni - again no definitive view of the 7.8 magnitude, 2.2 arc-second distant companion.

The scopist in me looks forward to many happy returns.

Mars under a Cloud

This particular evening started as many will throughout the Summer and Fall - with a look at Vega (lovely blue spurious disk and excellent defocus image for sampling optical alignment and tube currents). Followed by a check of the Double Double (very sweet when all four stars show tiny airy disks with single diffraction rings - as tonight). Most nights will not end as this (wall to wall thickish low flying clouds blanking out eveything but Luna, Mars, and Vega). Nor am I likely to knock off observing as early as 10:45.

Mars looked best this evening at 180x. Probably because of the overcast. Sky was stable as last - even well before culmination (6/10). There was little worry about getting limb focus - felt no compunction to "tweak" the knob. Good solid image out of the box. Another sign of better than average seeing...

Everything discussed last night still applies to this - with a few noteworthy exceptions. Since sketch hour is earlier, there is less evidence of Mare Sirenum (just rotating in from Mars-west). Also, for no known reason, little evidence of Mare Boreum. (It should be visible as a vague dark line just above Mars North Polar Cap -NPC- region.) Speaking of polar caps - hints - but not much more than that either. BUT something I did get a better sense of was the various bright "hollows" that often position themselves near Maria.

Inspecting Mars using the medium blue filter revealed a radiant "smile" of luminosity from just eartheast of the NPC to very close to the earthwest equator. It was in fact a lopsided smile with a visible "smirk" earth-northwest. Part of that smirk probably corresponds to Chryse but the bulk of it is probably intense evening limb haze. (As I understand it, much that passes for haze on the planet is comprised of "dry ice" - frozen carbon dioxide.)

Two other bright regions revealed themselves through the blue filter. One, earthwest of Mars' SPC, looks to be Argyre I (located just south of Protei Regio). The other southeast of Argyre I is probably a much diminished SPC itself.

The view through red was undermined by the overcast. In fact, I caught as much natively as through medium red. Blue, as indicated above, was the filter of choice this evening - especially because it did such a nice job of highlighting limb haze and bright hollows. I need to remember this in the future. The tendency is to downplay the use of blue. Maria seem much more substantial - almost "continental" in appearance. This inclines toward the red filter.

Natively, the color of Mars is moving away from the "straw yellow" of opposition toward its more traditional red. However, it has a long way to go to live up to its reputation.

I did turn Argo on the Moon this evening. Between near-fullness and blanching clouds, the view was almost devoid of contrast. Plato continues to hold repute as the "darkest" non-shadow engendered region on the surface. While something new, I noticed that the small crater Reiner (near the equator close to the eastern limb) is probably the most intensely brilliant extended feature visible on the surface. Another aspect of Reiner is its short, stubby and almost equally brilliantly luminous ray emanating south east.

A Tale of Too Many Time Zones

Since first use of MarsPreviewerII software, I've been puzzled by the lack of synchronization between map features and whatever happened to be in view at the time. A large part of the initial problem was my personal lack of familiarity with Mars surface features. Another was the programmers default time zone (+3 hours GMT). A third, the stupidity of Daylight Savings Time (everyone just stays up later and consumes power anyway). Fourth, the fact that there is an inherent need to interpolate between sidereal time and the 1 hour time zone increments. Finally, there is the small matter of my own conceptual dyslexia when it comes to adding and subtracting. (Spring forward, Fall back. Add an hour in Spring, take it away in Fall. So if I add one in Spring, GMT must be - what? Minus 1 or plus 1? Did the coder enter his default value as Daylight Savings Time or what?)

So setting aside all theory, Mars just made the whole process a lot easier. For you see, the drawing at left pretty much captures the Greater Mare Erythraeum / Acidalium regions right on the central meridian at 9:30PDST Independence Day evening in the year 2001. This can only be replicated in the software using GMT + 7, minus 30 minutes. So effectively where I observe from is + 6.5 hours GMT. Empiricism Rules!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, one of the most profound mysteries of our "time" has been resolved! When Daylight Savings Time happens and you roll the clock ahead 1 hour you have to subtract 1 hour from GMT/Universal Time. Meanwhile, if you live in the Santa Cruz Mountains you need to subtract an additional half hour to interpolate sidereal time (approximately).

Mars was fairly low at the time of this drawing - but I had a hunch it would give a decent view. First, over the last few nights, stability has been better earlier in the evening than latter. Second, I expected there would be a lot of nice contrasty detail on the planet around 9 o'clock. Third, high clouds and a full Moon made viewing anything else unappealing. (All right - strictly off the record - Delta Cygni was too jumpy for me to catch its close/dim companion. Globular Cluster M5 could be found in the findeerscope and showed some resolution but required averted vision to do so, and the Double Double gave a passable split of both pairs, while the 12.5 magnitude come could be held with moderate aversion.)

In the sketch itself, both polar caps remained diminished. Xante (the brightish region on the central meridian lying on the equator) was fairly low contrast. Niliacus Lacus (just north of Xante) was darker than Mare Acidalium (further north). No sign of Mare Boreum (rimming the North Polar Cap). The entire Acidalium region was much broader than depicted in the software. So Idacus Fons (eartheast of Niliacus Lacus) pretty much blended into the Acidalium region. All this pretty much covers the northern temperate region.

To the south, Aurorae Sinus, Eos, and Margaritifer Sinus (eartheast to west just above Chryse) all combined with Mare Erythraeum (to their south). Eartheast of Erythraeum, Solis Lacus and Protei Regio joined the Erythraeum confederation. Meanwhile, Argyre I "lightened the mood" a little bit above Erythraeum and bridged to the diminutive South Polar Cap.

Finally, Arabia (to earth-northwest) and Noachis (earth-southwest) limb regions appeared a bit brighter than might be expected.

While making this drawing I found myself thinking that, if I were king of the astronomical world, I would draw a vertical line through the center of Mar's and call this "Mars Longitude Zero". As it turns out, the view presented is about 45 degrees earth-east of that exalted presentation...

Rival of Mars Has "Dim" Companion!

The hobby of Amateur Astronomy is graced with an unusual number of "milestone" events to challenge the diligent observer. For many amateurs, the "short list" might include: Observing all 109 Messier DSOs. Tracking down a telescopic comet. Identifying 13th magnitude Pluto in a star field. Locating 13th magnitude quasar 3C273 (the most distant object viewable with modest amateur equipment). Seeing the Encke Gap in Saturn Ring A. Transforming the Trapezium into a Sextezium. Seeing a supervova in a distant galaxy. And catching a glimpse of the close companion of a bright star (for larger scopes - Sirius / smaller scopes - Antares).

Well tonight it was my turn to experience a milestone. The sky finally settled enough down south for me to just catch the dim 6th magnitude companion of Antares. Some caveats however - the sky was not stable enough to do so without an assist. Basically, Antares, ably augmented by earths very own atmosphere did what it always does - dance around while throwing off sparks. But tonight the dance was more waltz than mambo and the sparks managed to fall back to their source without causing a general conflagration. So, just looking at Antares and comparing it to Vega - I'd say the seeing stability, some 30 degrees above the horizon, was 6/10. Pretty good - but not good enough to sport an airy disk - which is something needful if you hope to spot a 5.4 magnitude star some 2.3 arc-seconds from a 1.2 magnitude star.

However, there are some tools available to reveal the dimmish secondary of a bright star under marginal conditions. For you see buried within the flashing "spurious image" of every bright star, is a tiny hidden "airy disk". On nights of better than average stability all you need do is throw on a nice color complementing filter and you can pretty much eliminate the flashing and see what remains. HOWEVER, such an approach dims everything else out too - except for the color passed by the filter. So while eliminating flashing, you are also adding 2 to 3 magnitudes onto whatever it is you are looking for.

Tonight, under local 6/10 stability skies, using a green filter (useful around orange-red stars) I was just able to pick out what looked like a 7th magnitude companion some 2-3 arc seconds due west of what looked like a 3rd magnitude star. By just able, I mean inconsistently with averted vision. Not the most definitive view, mind you, but one of high confidence - especially after research showed the secondary is, in fact, supposed to be due west of Antares.

Another tough one behind me...

Before turning Argo on Antares, I did take the time to sketch up Mars. In many ways the view was very similar to last nights. Slightly better stability allowed me to get a sense of contrast within northern and southern hemisphere maria. Also detected a fleeting view of Mare Borium to the north. Acidalium also seemed to distinguish itself better from Niliacus Lacus. Little in the way of "limb haze" was seen however. The red filter did show a fairly intense "yellow-ation" on the limb of Mars equator to earth-west.

One really interesting insight that came out of this sketch was just how inclined Mars poles are vis a vis the Earth's axis. Knowing that southern hemisphere's Erythraeum federation and northern hemisphere's Acidalium group are square to one another, it was pretty clear that Mars' south pole of Mars is tilted some 30 degrees Mars west (eartheast). This needs to be kept in mind as MarsQuest continues.

Followed the Antares observations with a quick review of overhead sky conditions. Vega's spurious image was every bit as large and bright as Antares. Both pairs of the Double Double were cleanly revealed. The 12.0 magnitude come could be held direct - while the 12.5 needed moderate aversion. Despite the Moon, I could make out an annular Ring Nebula - this without averted vision. The 13th magnitude star required full aversion - but it could be held by the eye. So, stars to magnitude 4.7 would have been visible to me direct had not Moonlight flooded the sky.

While tracking down Delta Cygni, I happened to look up to see a very bright (magnitude -1+) meteor moving rather slowly south to north just west of Vega. Half expected the thing to "burst" like a roman candle but instead it just winked out. (Amazingly slow for a meteor - a Bootid???)

Curiously, just after viewing Antares - the sky around Delta Cygni was less stable than expected. Delta's third magnitude airy disk kept "blurring out". No sign of the 8th magnitude companion...

Until midnight, when I went out to put away the scope (after writing up these notes). Amazing, there the little fellow was - trailing Delta across the sky.

Race Against the Moon

The plan for last evening was to tour through all the Messier globular clusters beginning with M5 in Serpens and ending with M14 in Ophiuchus. My hope was to get good "dark sky" views for another project I'm working - but that "dark sky" never materialized. Effectively, a 70% Moon casts a long "light shadow" before actually rising and at magnitude -2.0 Mars also does its best to "lighten the night sky mood". Thus, visual limiting magnitude to south and southwest from Backyard Boulder Creek, was no better than magnitude 4.5 - a depth that effectively cuts Argo's reach to half his 150mm aperture.

Before bailing on the nights planned activities I managed to locate and document five of the clusters. Of the five, M5 gave the best view. It has several things going for it in terms of presentation: Northernmost, westernmost and brightest. Under 4.5 ULTM conditions, the cluster looked grainy (direct) at 50X. It's bright starlike core, broad core region and star halo all showed with decent contrast -even against the deep blue sky of that magnification. On eye movement there was a perceptible flaring to the northeast. Under extreme aversion dozens of outliers revealed themselves. A nice blue 6-7th magnitude field star lay maybe 20 arc-minutes to the south-southeast. The cluster itself had a faint blusish cast - typical of most globular clusters.

Increased magnification darkened the sky background enough to show several dozen resolved stars. Many could be held with direct vision. The part of the cluster I refer to as the "core" appeared visibly elongated - perhaps 3x4 arc-minutes along the east-west axis. On eye movement the core scintillated at various points. Under darker conditions (5.1ULTM) in June, many of these stars could be held with aversion - so the difference of a half-magnitude in reach is signifcant when it comes to core resolution. Just northeast of the core - I could make out a group of maybe a half dozen brighter stars. I believe this group accounted for the "flaring" to that direction seen on eye movement at 50X.

If M5 was the brightest cluster of the evening, 107 was the dimmest. Dim (magnitude 8.1) and large (10 arc-minutes) M107 has an average surface brightness of 12.8. While M5 was obvious in the finderscope, I could only "imagine" seeing M107 in Argo's 7X35mm sidekick. At 50X, the cluster was quite faint, possessed a smallish core, dim star-like center and lacked all sense of frontier. More interesting to the eye than the cluster itself, is its location at the crux of a cross formed of a half-dozen 9 - 12th magnitude stars. The base of this cross lies to the north. Some 10 arc-minutes south is the 2 arc-minute sized core region of the cluster. Some hint of scintillation was possible at 180X. On this particular evening the cluster presented best at 120X. At 120X, the cluster flared to every direction (opposite the direction of eye movement away from the core). This easily doubled the visible size of the cluster and hints at what could be seen on a truly dark night (6.0 ULTM).

I also looked up "the Serpent Bearer Twin Globulars" M10 and 12. Turned up M10 first in the finder - then made a quick foray north and west to confirm M12's location relative to M10's. Both clusters were easily seen at 7X35mm - like M5, a small "cone" of light. At 50X, M10, showed a dozen or so stars buzzing around a brightish core region. This was only possible with some aversion of the sight. The cluster forms a nice 15 arc-minute or so sized right triangle with a pair of 7-8 magnitude stars. The cluster itself takes a position at the square point of the triangle. At 180X several dozen stars could be seen - some across the core. A line of 4 or 5 stars take a position running north-south to the east of the cluster. These seem to "truncate" the trailing edge of the cluster. An absence of brighter stars on the far side of this line makes one think of a "darkness cliff" over which the stars fall into the black of space. As the eye moves east, more stars appear, so presumably, having taken the plunge they pop up again into view. - All is well!

M10 - like most globular clusters - lacks a sense of frontier. The brightest clusters show a kind of "dim halo" that extends well away from the core. This region is often "peppered with outlying stars". It is usually only preceptible to averted sight. If seen direct, I usually classify this part of the cluster as part of the "greater core region" or "bright" halo. Typically, the eye must move across the field of view to detect the "dim halo". M5 showed its dim halo - even under the less than satisfactory darksky conditions of the evening. No other cluster viewed during the evening did.

On first glance Globular Cluster M12 looks very much like M10. Both have a cummulative magnitude of 6.6 and an apparent size of 15 arc-minutes. My notes suggest that it was a bit more difficult to tease resolution out of M12 - at lower magnification (50X). It didn't seem to present the "bluish" hue of most globulars either. Both the blanched coloration and difficulties with resolution may be due to the fact that, by this time, the Moon had broken the eastern horizon (though still behind trees and mountains).

M12 floats in a river of 8+ magnitude stars flowing east-west. The cluster is framed by a kite shaped group of 4 stars. These stars lie well within its borders - but outside the 3 or 4 arc-minute core visible at 50X. On switching to 120X, that core looked quite elongated. This along the east-west axis. Like M10, some resolution was visible across the core at higher powers. At 180x, the core began to look almost linear (as it began to dissolve with magnification). The linearity itself oriented northeast to southwest.

My final globular study was M80 - small, almost perfectly circular, contrasty, and very condensed. M80 is what I call a "bright face on galaxy imitator". Starlike core, brightish core region, and visible halo bleeding off into space. All of this wrapped up in a 2-3 arc-minute diameter package. Two 7th magnitude stars - one 6 arc-minutes northeast and the other 10 arc-minutes south - accompany it. Like M12, the blue appears washed out of this cluster. Incipient Moon and low sky position easily account for this.

M80 shows no sense of surface roughness at 50X. Since, I planned to take a look at Mars subsequently I dropped in the 10mm plus 3X barlow - 540x - "cluster buster". Previous experiences with this power showed that M80 hangs in there well without dissolving. (Due to small apparent size this 7.7 magnitude cluster's average surface brightness is 11.6.) As in previous viewings, M80 showed a sense of surface roughness - there was also a starry central core. No scintillation was seen, however. on a really dark night, and from more southern latitudes - some scintillation should be possible.

By this time, Mars was near culmination. Meanwhile, the Moon could be seen through the foliage to the southeast. The sky lightened perceptibly. I turned Argo on Antares. At 540X, I could make out an inconstant "airy disk" surrounded my multiple diffraction and interference rings. No definitive sight of its 5.4 magnitude companion was possible. Like most disparate magnitude pairs - an excess of magnification is no help whatsoever... But before trying other powers I wanted to peek at Mars. So I swung quickly east and slightly south from the rival to the main event. At 540X, some few features were possble - but I wasn't feeling the need to do any sketching since the night was about globulars.

Returned to Antares and removed the barlow. Sky stability was bit shaky, but knowing where to look - and on those few occasions where the stars orange-red airy disk was visible - I could briefly catch the dim companion at 180X. Since Antares is just east of M4, took a quick look and saw pretty much what I expected - the Moon had white-washed the image - draining away all piquancy.

It was now time to reposition the scope and check out the doings overhead... Vega as usual, was a lovely blue "light pile" with hints of a central airy disk. The Double Double, an easy split at 120X. Even 70X showed a thin dark line between the evenly matched Epsilon-2 pair. Delta Cygni's 7.8 magnitude companion was consistently visible - trailing the primary across the sky. Turned various magnifications on the 13.08 test star just east of M57. At 540X the star could be held direct - while at 70X, eye movement was required. This points to a ZULTM of about 4.6 - just what you'd expect when a second or third quarter Moon whitewashes the sky.

The time now approached the "witching hour". My evening was full enough - time to knock off. Life is a marathon - not a sprint. You gotta pace yourself for the long run. My race against the Moon was doomed from the beginning. Long before Earth's Satellite broke the eastern horizon, its rays scattered throughout the atmosphere and wove the night sky with silvery threads of light.

Stepping Up to the Plate

Last evening's sky was perceptibly darker than the previous. A quick check of the Double Double showed a clean - if not consistent - split of both pairs at 120X. Shifted Argo over to the south viewing locale and resumed walking the path of the Summer Globulars. Outlying M5 stars were thick enough to begin suggesting "star chains" at 180x. This was not seen the previous evening - again even just a half a magnitude in sky depth significantly improves the view.

Over the next hour I tracked down three additional clusters - one of which was entirely serendipitous. Began with M62, The cluster is officially assigned to the constellation Ophiuchus, but I began my search by centering on third magnitude Tau Scorpii. About 2 degrees east of Tau are a pair of 6th magnitude finder stars - one slightly north and the other south. I took the south fork and shifted that star to the northwest corner of the finder field. Opposite this in the field was a pair of 5th and sixth magnitude stars oriented east-west. Sweeping due east along this line about a degree was "globular sign".

M62 is about as bright and large as it's sibling globulars M10 and M12. But the view suffers a bit due to M62's position only 20 degrees above the horizon. Despite this, the cluster showed the usual littany of globular cluster features: Starlike core, bluish core region, and faint halo. At 70X I was also able to get a sense of a dim halo extending out maybe 5 arc-minutes from core point. Not suprisingly, there was a sense of incipient resolution about M62. The cluster showed a certain roughness about its texture. Typical of many clusters was a sense of "truncation". Almost as if a dark line was painted across the cluster's border - in M62's case, to the west. A seventh magnitude star took up a position 20 degrees to the southwest of the cluster's core, while a dim eleventh magnitude star could be seen maybe 5 arc-minutes south-southeast. At 180X, perhaps a dozen outliers were possible with extreme aversion. Three brighter stars arrayed themselves southwest to northwest - perhaps 3 arc-minutes from the core. And again I say, but for a darker sky, and higher sky position...

Having located M62, I figured M19 would prove easy. Three degrees north and 1 degree east to a 7.1 magnitude fuzzy star. As it turned out I had entered into Mars' private preserve. The glow from the magnitude -2 planet was intimidating to the eye. It was not possible to make out the cluster. So I began sweeping the field at 70X - to no avail. Since, for whatever reason, the abbreviated sky atlas I use failed to include M19 on the chart, I had manually transcribed it there from another source. I suspected that I had dyslexified it during the process... So I searched east of my guide stars and found a dimmer globular cluster that I could easily rationalized as a Mars-burnt version of what I was looking for. This cluster may turn out to be ninth magnitude globular NGC6284 - but it seemed perhaps to present too fine a view for a 9th magnitude cluster.

At 70X, the cluster less than half the size of M62, showed a dim star-like core and a very small core region which blended into a surprisingly large halo. No sense of color, or resolution was possible. (Although three close field stars to the cardinal directions save north, were seen at higher magnifications.) The cluster forms a right triangle with a pair of seventh magnitude stars - but not as the square point.) Of the two stars, one lies 25 arc-minutes east and the other - 10 minutes east-northeast. On eye movement the cluster flared visibly to the east.

Suspecting that I had not, in fact, found M19, I resumed my sweep west of the 6th magnitude anchor star visible on my charts. About the time I turned up the real cluster in the eyepiece (obviously brighter and more structured than my accidental find) moon glow crept across the sky and added to the blanching effect of much nearer Mars.

Speaking of which...

The amazing thing about this drawing is the fact that it bears little resemblence to the various features that should have been visible on the planet at this hour. Is it really possible for an atmospheric dust storm to be so extensive and pervasive that it obliterates the entire mid-section of a planet? For you see there is this huge gap where Mare Erythraeum and Niliacus Lacus ought to be.

Some time you step up to the plate, bat in hand, expect a fast ball and get a curve. The Red Planet and it's various ideosyncracies can be a total head scratcher - especially once you start believing the illusion that you've go it figutred out...

Can you imagine the crazy quilt view of our own world you might get from Mars?

Joni's Cluster

Nice night. Dark sky. Steady enough. Mars looked pretty much the way it did last night - some kind of massive storm obscuring the mid-equatorial region. (This since confirmed based on an incidental reference in an email from a correspondent.) Did some homework on globular NGC6284: Dim, but small (less than 6 arc-minutes in diameter). Accounts for why it appears so bright for the ninth magnitude - 12.6 average surface brightness. Revisited the cluster last evening - yup, still there, and remarkably contrasty. Perfect little cluster: Star-like core, small - but brightish core region, perceptible halo no possible resolution. Easy to find right now - east-southeast of M19 which is due east of Mars.

But all the above is out of order. Started the evening with a "technical review" of globular M4...

At 50x, dozen or stars visible with "soft eyes". Bulk splayed out to the south-southeast. Cluster itself quite large - but sparse. Outliers seen as far out as 6 or 7 arc-minutes from core central. Cluster takes a position in an arc of three seventh magnitude stars beginning and ending somewhat east of the north-south axis. Displays the characteristic "blueness" of the brighter globulars. A line of unresolved stars across the core give M4 a very linear appearance. Following that line north, the glow of a smallish core region is seen at low power. At 180x, the line of stars resolves and the core nearly dissolves. Quite open for a globular. From the southern end of the "string of pearls" across the core, an additional line of stars sweeps southeast. Total effect that of a "boomerang", with leading edge just southwest of the core region. This cluster, like many celestially west of the galactic core, appears flattened or "truncated" to that same direction...

From M4 I made a quick stop at M62. With the darker night, I hoped to get an even better sense of resolution. The results were comparable to the previous evenings view - maybe a dozen stars with all the trickery the eye could bare. From M62 moved on to M19. Had little difficulty finding it. Center on Mars. Shift due east. Pick out hazy star in the finderscope. Wondered why there was any difficulty the previous evening...

M19 appeared very "squished" and quite blue. Maybe 8x6 arc-minutes oriented south-southeast to north-northwest possible. Unlike many brighter clusters, the core point is quite difficult to resolve. A half-degree long arc of 9th magnitude stars precede it across the sky - a "stellar shield" so to speak. The cluster is intensely blue, but its extremely elongated core is its most distinctive feature. Like its confreres, the cluster flattens to the west. At 120X maybe a half-dozen stars resolved across the core (using "soft eyes"). M19 flares broadly to the east on eye movement. A half-magnitude deeper sky would really allow this baby to come into its own...

M9 is a much more conventional globular than M4 and M19. Dimmer, smaller, and basically unresolvable at 50X. Core quite "pointy" and set centrally within a small round core region and visible halo. (Altogether perhaps 3 arc-minutes in diameter.) Interestingly, the globular has a large dim outside halo that flares perceptibly southeast on eye movement. The halo more than doubles the visible portion of the cluster. M9 shares the local family characteristic of leading edge flattening and the "bluish" cast of many highly radiant suns. Like M19, that blue was very obvious in this cluster and is one of its most aesthetically pleasing features. At 180X the cluster's core shows a certain roughness. About 5 arc-minutes southwest of core-central is a widish (~30 arc-second) dim (~11th magnitude) double star. In addition to this field pair, a very few outliers are possible with extremely averted vision. Again, a draker night, a larger scope...

Received an email from fellow observer "theAstronomer" requesting I turn Argo on open cluster NGC6940 in Vulpecula. Thinking about it, I remembered a cluster in the general locale described in the email and decided to see if I had already poked Argo in that direction of the sky. Sure enough, - and the cluster was quite memorable at that. Here is the description from a November report:

"NGC6940 is rather strangely shaped for an open cluster. (Or shall I say, it is embedded in an asterism of a rather unusual shape.) The open cluster itself probably consists of 75-100 9-13th magnitude stars. However, surrounding it (in the shape of shark, dolphin or whale) are a number of brighter 7th and 8th magnitude stars within a one degree field. (The cluster is embedded in the belly of this sea creature. So a good name for it might be "The Jonah Cluster".) The whale asterism itself is oriented north-south. (The creature's head is to the north, and its dorsal fin points to the east.) Shooting straight up out of the cluster (to the south of the dorsal fin) is a column of dim stars. -- A rather unlikely location for a blow hole, but a plausible harpoon shaft!)"

In revisiting the cluster, it was not hard to once again see the "whale" alluded to in the original report. The dorsal fin was quite obvious - along with the dolphin-like head. Something new though - the original report missed the intriguing shape of the cluster itself and a shaft of stars dropping down from it away from the dorsal region. That shaft itself was split by a transverse group of dim stars at right angles. Since the cluster itself is quite round, and the shaft of stars fall straight away from it, and that shaft forms a "t" with the descending group - the entire figure looks like the symbol for planet Venus - which, of course, is also the symbol for woman. With this revelation, I can no longer refer to this cluster as "Jonah in the Belly of the Whale" but as "Joni..."

Blue Sky by Day, Overcast by Night

A pet expression among amateur astronomers is that of "sucker holes". These are small areas of superb transparency surrounded by a great expanse of clouds in the night sky. Sucker holes often present themselves right after the several days of overcast which follow the delivery of a new scope. They also frequent the few days after lunar second quarter. Finally, sucker holes have a way of showing up when you start to feel paranoid about getting behind on your observing plan.

The interesting thing about the last few days is that the sky has been tantalizingly clear. Unfortunately, that clarity has been restricted to the day per se. By skydark, clouds move in and throw up a few sucker holes in the region of Lyra. Vega shows me its lovely light pile. And the Double Double splits nicely. The holes then migrate towards Mars to the south. I get a quick peek into the planet's affairs. Then the clouds sock in the sky and that's it until I put the scope away. One word for this kind of behavior is that of a "tease". When applied to human sexual magnetism, "tease" is usually considered denigratory.

In the past I might have agreed with this opinion. But not anymore. For you see, a "tease" is like watching the coming attractions at a movie theatre. Sure the previews are meant to whet your appetite. But they are still fun and can stimulate your appreciation of the "real thing" once it comes along.

So, sucker holes are OK by me.

And so are sucker days - leading to sucker nights.

Unlike the previous evening, I did manage to get a sketch of Mars in before clouds rolled in completely. Due to its brilliance, the planet could be seen through the nights veils. Stability was not exceptional - maybe 5/10. The planet's edge would barely come to focus - even at a lowly 180x. In fact, I really didn't "complete" the drawing - but I did rough it in enough to scan it. My main reason for keeping it is to act as a reminder of what a "marginal" view of the planet looks like. It also suggests that the storms of the last few days have not abated...

As I write this report it's early Thursday evening. The sky has that "silvery blush" that suggests a 5.0ZULTM night in the offing. The sky is clear - except to the far south. I run through my list: "Argo is not a new scope.", "The moon is well below the horizon.", "There is plenty of time to pursue my observing plan."

I'll let you know if it works...

El Cielo de la Noche

Well this was one feature presentation that did justice to the previews. Tonight's sky was excellent - for backyard Boulder Creek. Narry a cloud seen. Wonderful depth - even far south. Steady and deep. A fine night for globulars and small planetary nebulae. Had no difficulty distinguishing the later from what could have been bloated star images...

Double Double gave a fine split - with little of the intermittent image blur seen over the last week or so. A recheck at the end of the viewing session showed I could hold the 12.0 mag star in Epsilon-2's star haze region direct. Meanwhile, a survey of stars neighboring the King of Rings revealed that the 13.0 test star could be held direct at that same magnification (180x). (The Ring itself was incredibly present and showed wonderful contrast.) In addition and at extreme aversion, I could hold a 14.1 star to the southeast and a suspected 14.5 star along the Rings north flank on eye movement. All this points to a ZULTM of 5.6. Add on another magnitude (say 6.6 or so) and I might have just made out the Rings central star with extreme aversion at 540x - something I never would have thought possible in a 150mm scope...

At the time of the first Double Double check, Delta Cygni was maybe 45 degrees above the northeastern horizon. Delta's 7.8 magnitude companion was not obvious. So even moderate sky angle does matter. (I'm sure that later in the evning, had I checked Delta while in the skies middle third - its companion would have been obvious.)

Early on, I also turned 540X Argo on .8 arc-second Zeta Bootis - if not a clean split, then as close as you can possibly get.

Fellow amateur Cor Berrevoets sent me some charts to locate dim doubles. The doubles are all en route from the Great Cluster of the North (M13) to the King of Rings. (Thank's Cor). Last evening, after assessing sky conditions, and before full skydark, turned Argo on The Great Cluster (decent but unexceptional view under ULTM 4.5 conditions) and started to "walk the walk". The first two doubles (STF2101 & STF2104) are located in the same 1 degree field - some 3 degrees southeast of M13. Both were very satisfying to view and well worth the effort to track them down. The following descriptions come out of an email message sent to Cors and fellow "Great Double Way Walker" Francesco Megli:

STF 2101: Secondary suspected at 70X. Obvious and direct at 180X. I thought the mags were 7&10. Separation estimated at 3 seconds. Primary blue-white, secondary bluer than primary. Secondary trails to north. Nice pair!

STF 2104: Bright n' easy at 70X. Mags 7&8. Primary blue white, secondary bluer than primary - orientation due north. Third star to southwest, magnitude 9 - maybe 35" distant. Colors make this pair interesting.

My main goal for the evening was to pick up the threads of a moon and sky-tattered observing plan. To do so, shifted Argo to the south viewing station. Immediately transported by the depth of the southern sky. Picked out a magnitude 5.2 test star in Virgo (near Phi) - just on the visual threshold. Conditions south were as good as they ever get from Backyard, Boulder Creek...

First stop: M5. Dim outer halo visible to 5+ arc-minutes from core at 70X. Two dozen stars resolved with soft eyes at that same magnification. Easily three times that many at 180x. Again, forget aperture - get yourself a dark sky!

M4: Gorgeous and sprawling. Many stars at any magnification across its losely assembled core.

M19: Maybe a dozen outliers at 180x - even as Mars did what it could to dominate the area.

Realized I had yet to fully characterize the M14 globular in Ophiuchus. Had a little trouble turning up this largish (12') intermediate brightness (7.6 mag) in the finder - despite the better than average conditions. At 70X, a great deal of texture (roughness) visible. With extreme aversion, a few dim outliers possible. No core point seen, but a large core region (4') and displayed a nice luminosity gradiant. This lead to a less than expansive bright halo which, in turn, led off into a large dim halo. The dim halo flared noticeably east. The cluster seemed visibly flattened southwest. A widish 8 and 10 magnitude double star lies 30 arc-minutes west.

Just as I acquired the cluster, a dim earth-orbiting satellite grazed the southeastern limb of the core region and proceded apparently undamaged across the field of view...

At 180X, M14 hinted at a rather uniform spread of 14th magnitude stars across the core. This encouraged me to take out the "heavy iron" and inspect the cluster at 210, 360 and 540x. Although the core held at 360X, best view was at 210. (Local stray lights and gyrations of light mount on plywood deck made the attempt at 540X painful.) It's clear to me that M14 would be a really fine cluster, presenting a wealth of dim resolved stars - under 6.0 ULTM conditions...

With barlow in place. I turned Argo on Mars. Saturated with "deepsky fever", and a night that held the promise of new finds, I quickly repressed any aspirations to sketch the planet or even take the time to try a few colored filters. Frankly, there was not enough visible detail to help me overcome the inclination to move on...

I also checked in on Antares. Had a green filter been handy, the dimmish secondary would have been de rigour. As it was, the most suggestive views were at 180x. But lacking a visible airy disk, there was nothing definitive to be seen. (As a rule the secondary is visible without green filter use when Antares-A shows an "airy disk".)

It was now time for some fresh photons. First up: 12.9 magnitude / 30 arc-second planetary nebula NGC6369. Frankly, this dimmish planetary was surprisingly easy - despite relatively low sky position (slightly north but mostly east of globular M19). I recall thinking that, due to low published magnitude, I might need the assist of an OIII filter. In fact, the planetary practically fell into my lap. Just needed to sweep the sky at 70X between 44 and 51 Ophiuchi. Interestingly, the nebula couldn't be held direct at 70X. But was quite obvious otherwise. So any eye movement, or degree of aversion unmasked its presence.

Under 70X aversion, I saw a brightish - almost star-like - core surrounded by a vague gray-greenish blue nebulosity that extended out maybe 10 or 15 arc-seconds. At 120X, the planetary could be held direct and under aversion, the starry point shifted northwest. At 180X, planetary disk elongation showed along the southeast to northwest axis. This all at 5.0 ULTM transparency, decent atmospheric stability, using a scope that can just hold stars of magnitude 12.4 at 180X. Neat huh!

But even more interesting was my next pair of fresh lights. 9.7 magnitude, 5 arc-minute sized globular cluster NGC6440, and 13.2 magnitude 34 arc-second planetary NGC6445. Happily both share the same 1 degree field of view. What a treat - two of my favorite classes of deepsky studies for the "price" of one!

Like the previous planetary, globular cluster NGC6440 dissolved into an ill-defined mass on direction (using 70X "sweeper" magnification). While looking at the globular, the planetary (located about a half a field away) would stand out quite nicely. (Switch to the planetary and a similar effect is seen - although the smaller, "dimmer" planetary could just be held at 70X.) With any aversion, the globular shows a star-like core and small inner halo. Of interest is that the globular queues up with a line of three 9 to 12th magnitude stars oriented south-southeast to north-northwest. At 120X, the cluster's core and bright halo could be held. There was even a sense flarinf to the west-southwest. Boosting magnification (to 180X) actually dis-improved the view. (This by spreading out the light too thin from the distant globular.)

As mentioned, 13.2 planetary NGC6445 could just be held direct at 70x. (The more widely distributed 12.9 magnitude average surface brightness globular could not.) Though the planetary could be held - little in the way of detail was possible. What was visible was a small, fuzzy "disk", showing vague central brightening bleeding off into space. Bumping the magnification to 120X, I noticed a dim star very close to the planetary's northwest frontier. At 180X, the planetary distended a bit northwest. At the same time, it appeared somewhat east-flattened and west-rounded.

In acquiring the planetary, I caught a disparate-brightness double star to the east. The primary seemed to be about magnitude 8 while the secondary, perhaps 15 arc-seconds away, approached the limits of direction at 70X. (Magnitude 12.0 under 5.0 ULTM conditions). At 180X, the secondary could be held direct just south of its brighter companion.

Viva el Cielo de la Noche!

Timely and Well Met

My few readers may have noticed that trips to China Ridge are few and far between. China Ridge was originally intended as a refuge from low flying clouds harassing Boulder Creek during the cool, damp, Northern California winter months. Later, as seeing improved with weather in Backyard, Boulder Creek, China Ridge offered an expansive view to the south. (Enabling me to track down studies as low as -50 degrees celestial latitude.) Despite this expansive horizon, last night I confirmed to my satisfaction that there is something wrong with the seeing on the Ridge. And this suspicion has been one of the reasons why journeys to that viewing locale have been few and far between.

It could simply be sampling error, but generally, seeing stability is often one or two points poorer than backyard and environs (Boulder Creek Elementary School). On returning from the Ridge last night, one look at the night sky confirmed that stability was easily in the 7/10 range, while that at the Ridge was 5/10. Since I tend to theorize as to why things like this are the case - I have arrived at the following hypothesis. Generally, air masses approaching China Ridge come right off the ocean. Little in the way of shaping these air masses occur as they approach the observing site. Subsequently, they often break up annd become chaotic. Light passing through turbulent air is inherently unstable. Photons remaining otherwise coherent scatter and refract in odd ways. Since Argo can only reveal what it sees, (something I like about quality optics) and what it sees lacks verisimilitude under such conditions, I get "great glowing lanterns in the night". This phenomenon is especially acute to the south where I peer through air that lies on the border between land and sea. Overhead, things are several points better - but still marginal...

So for this (and one other reason about to be explained), I've stuck pretty close to Boulder Creek (these nights).

Another reason for local observing has to do with the nature of the season. Even here, some 37 degrees north latitude, the Sun pretty much limits the hours of observation to 10:00pm to 3:00am (during the Summer). My own schedule pretty much calls for observing no later than midnight. Thus I have about 2 "quality hours" to observe each night. The trip out to China Ridge only costs me a half an hour - and that on the way back. (There's something to be said for arriving at dusk and watching the veils of skydark descend.) But it still costs me that half-hour on the return side...

Last night six studies accumulated on my year-long observing list between -40 and - 50 degrees celestial latitude. Since each such study emerges for only an hour or so, it's important to time things well - otherwise I loose kharma points forpoor planning or worse - lack of motivation. (Two of my personal "seven deadly sins".)

Son Christopher and I drove out to the Ridge, and by 9:30 I was ready to rock and roll - but my, weren't those stars down low "huge and bloated". In fact, stability was so poor, that in combination with reduced transparency, Argo was lucky to reveal stars down to magnitude 10 - something any good 50mm finderscope should be capable of. Meanwhile later. during a check of the Double Double, and with Lyra well overhead, poor stability was found to be endemic. Additionally, the 13th magnitude test star near the King of Rings could only be held (at 180X) with mild aversion...

Thus, not your best of nights, nor your worst of nights - a night that, save for a few better placed studies and Milky Way sweeps later on, lacked for inspiration.

The most critical find was NGC6193. An open cluster in the hinterlands - east of Norma the Square... To begin with, there is just no good way to get to 6193. And once you locate it, there is actually little to suggest that you have actually found this 5.2 magnitude 15 arc minute open cluster. So you say, but its magnitude 5.2 - come on, that's bright! Sure it is, but did you know that the bulk of that luminosity radiates from a pair of brighter stars (one of which is multiple - h4876)?

As mentioned, Herschel 4876 is multiple. Probably 3 other stars within range of it were scarcely visible at 180x. These formed a diamond pattern with their primary trailing to the east. Only one of the three stars was obvious. The others barely contrasted as dimly glowing disks against a roughly 4.0ULTM sky. A sky so bright, that I needed 180X just to darken it enough to get an acceptable view. Leading this troup - maybe 10 arc-minutes to the west - was the second brigtest cluster component (~ seventh mag). Between these two bright members, (and circumscribing their diameter), was a "faintly mottled" sky suggesting another dozen members.

Just east of h4876 and slightly south is supposed to be a dimly glowing "headless horsehead" nebula - NGC6188. Needless to say, there was nothing to be seen of this study when you can barely make out tenth magnitude stars. (The nebula is reputed to be as obscure as Orion's own Headed Horsehead.)

Next, made several runs at turning up 6.9mg/12'open cluster IC4651. Each time, ended up peering at a distant ridgeline - complete with backlit tree branches and craggu terminator. - At almost exactly -50 degrees latitude, 4651 had yet to culminate. So I switched over to 6.9mg/9' globular cluster NGC6388 - a dim finderscope fuzz, some 2 degrees south-southwest of 2nd magnitude Theta Scorpii (Theta is itself a finderscope double. - By the way, isn't Scorpio a lovely bright "Orion-esque" constellation - especially when you can take the whole of it in at once?)

Globular cluster 6388 really is a beauty. Reminiscent of M80 - small, bright, and highly condensed. At 50X, and under aversion, bright starry core just possible. This within a tight round core region and bright halo. Under the present conditions no resolution possible - regardless (or perhaps because) of magnification. Something else: Lovely, star-strewn field. Just north of the cluster (and within its northern bounds) is a single 10th magnitude (line of sight?) star. At 180X, the globular is visibly flattened to the south. Interestingly, the starry nucleus is lost at higher magnification - probably an artifact of sky stability. However, its dim halo extends north-northeast on aversion. Those who observe from southern latitudes - enjoy!

By this time third magnitude Alpha Ara cleared the horizon. With Alpha up, all I need do was run a 50X sweep due west and snag open cluster IC4651 as a scintillating star haze. What? No haze? OK, alright by me. When you can only peer down to magnitude 10, a 7th magnitude open cluster is out of range. Nice to know.

Two more studies and its the "The Sagittarius Star Cloud Swing".

How about another globular? How about 9.2 mg/7' NGC 6496? How about six degrees above the south-southeast horizon? Heck yah! I could actually turn it up. Hovering right on the border of 50X perception. Large (4x6 arc-minutes), dim (couldn't be held direct) but real (not imaginosity) with faint central brightening. Neat! Six degrees up and you can find some difficult, (13.1 average surface brightness) denizons of the night sky. Totally unexpected and a fun trip trying to track it down. (Cluster is located just east of an obscure 5th magnitude star 5 degrees south-southeast of finderscope double Iota Scorpii. By the way - ever notice how many bright finderscoped doubles are in Scorpius?)

One more: Open Cluster NGC6322 - 1 degree east-northeast of forth magnitude Eta Scorpii. Like another Scorpio cluster (NGC6231) 6322 is very loose, and consists a few bright stars - in this case a triangle of three - and a smattering of dim ones. In this case the three main stars (magnitude 7 or so) form a neat triangle - tip to west. This group (maybe 10 arc-minutes in length - 5 in height) encompasses a handful of 10 plus magnitude stars in its midst. The entire assembly is attached to a sweeping arc of field stars east and north. The result: "Dragon's Head Cluster". This one didn't take much imagination - really.

So the "Gods of Self-Imposed Disciplines" were now appeased. It's "stargazing time! Let's sweep Sagittarius! Yay!!! Turn 50X Argo loose on the main star cloud and pass him over to Chris. "Just start here and go north."

Meanwhile a car stopped a hundred yards down the road. Ten minutes later "Hi, I'm Nathan and I couldn't help but notice you have a scope setup and the stars are incredibly bright!"

We spent the next half hour touring: Star Fields - vast and condensed. Lagoon Nebula. Neighboring "Strawberry Cluster". Wild Duck Cluster. Then its up to the King of Rings and Great Cluster of the North. Uhhhs and ahhs all the way.

Nathan told Chris and I how he once ordered an expensive apochromatic and the UPS truck backed over it. Nathan then used the insurance money for dark room equipment and specialized in photography. His favorite subjects are waterfalls. he likes anything that includes a spray of texture and color. (For instance the stuff that forms on rocks and large trees in wet environments.) Nathan was visiting the park. He hoped to turn his portraiture camera on same such. We wish Nathan many fine photographical moments...

And everyone else, clear and steady skies,

Different Scopes for Different Folks

So you makes the drive, and you takes your chances. Admittedly, the sky looked a bit "iffy" on the way up, but I was hoping that putting a couple thousand feet between the scope and sea level would make all the difference. And it did to - for about 45 minutes. Then "low flying clouds" moved inland, and that was that.

But the "party" wasn't really over as the clouds rolled in. Dan, Leon and I spent another hour discussing things astronomical. One topic of interest: "Different scopes for different folks." Leon likes his 10" Dob for the aperture and the fact that it fits into his Honda Accord. Dan likes the 102mm Takahashi because he views from Backyard Santa Cruz and has to burrow his way through the light dome. I like my scopes, well, because these are the ones I got and I do alright by them. The Pup for big scoops of chocolate sky-pudding, and Argo for portability - and that little bit of extra reach and resolution.

But before the sky fell apart, we did take in a few views. Mars for instance - damn the planet's edge was sharp in the Tak - Pup too, but the Tak had the resolution and image scale. And what did we see? Large bright oval right where Syrtis Major should have been. Storm's up!

Dan's Tak is well equipped - synchronous RA drive and all. But no matter how good your drive is, it won't track if it isn't well aligned to the pole. So Dan took a few moments to dress up the alignment. This meant turning the 4 incher on Polaris. At the time, I'd say the sky was maybe 4.5 ULTM deep. Under such conditions the Pup has a lot of trouble revealing 8.8 mag Polaris-B. But what about the Tak? Well let's take a look, shall we? Damn! Right there, no vision tricks, nothing. Pup? Full-on avert. 20mm more aperture account for it? Not at all. Takahashi drops 8 baffles into the OTA and probably coated the hell out of it too. Add an excellent diagonal, fine eyepieces and voila -high contrast views of anything in reach. (Actually Dan's eyepieces aren't quite as good as they were - I drooled all over them.)

OK, so let's really push this baby. What about the 5.4mag /2.3 arc-second distant companion of ANTARES? Nothing at 120X. Let's push it. 300x! Woh, Direct acquisition. Color (bluish green). The sky is good, but I'm not convinced Argo could have matched it. Excellent! (More drool.)

About this time, Dan and I get a visitor: "Say anybody here know anything about M97? What's it take to turn it up? I'm having the darndest time!" "Well says I, through a decent sky anything 60mm or larger can show you all the Messiers - but M97 is one of the toughies. What you got?" "C8." Should do, let's get on it.

As it turned out, our visitor now lives in Santa Cruz - but had a strong "Big Apple" accent - so I'll give him the handle "New York".

Now New York's C8 doesn't have goto. What it does have is a database full of objects that you call up after you align everything properly. Then you move the scope around manually until you "zero out the deltas". New York had done the alignment - and it wasn't far off. There were a few other issues with the scope however: One, the finder was way out of focus - I'd seen this before on a C9.25. Focus mechanism is a bit strange - you loosen a collar and spin the dewcap around to set it. I explained what I was doing to New York...

A second problem with the scope was the dewcap - homemade. New York was right on top of things when he figured out out the need for one. But unfortunately, the dewcap collapsed to one side and vigneted the light path. How did I figure this out? Well, of course I couldn't help but defocus the scope to check the optics (not bad at all) - but seeing the image truncated by a third was a dead giveaway...

Third problem: The mount's slow motion controls are "clutched". This means you have to release the clutch to spin the manual adjustment knobs. However when you do so, the scope "sags" and you lose your reference point. On this last score, I suspect that New York is better able to use the clutch than I - so the problem pretty much lay with me.

About twenty minutes later, New York and I got a look at The Owl Nebula - and as usual - this was proceeded by seeing galaxy M108. In both cases - not the best views - but this had nothing to do with the scope. Skydark hadn't really arrived - but the beginnings of an overcast had...

I did get a look through one other scope - and boy, did it take me back... A homemade F8 6 inch - complete with weld-shop equatorial mount permanently set to latitude 35 degrees north (Florida, USA). The owner's Dad ground the mirror and assembled the OTA back in the early 60's. Dad's friend welded the mount from commonly available pipes and pipe fittings. The scope had an overlong extension of the main tube - so Dad knew a thing or two about eliminating stray light. The optics showed decent outfocus but inside was a bit "pointy". The son recently had the mirror aluminized. The mount seemed excessively "squirrely". But you know what? Dad built it, and son used it.

The REAL THING!

Three nights of overcast left me fit and frisky. With the Moon out of the picture, a year-long observing plan needing attention, developments on Mars at question - (Have the storms subsided?), and a fellow observer (theAstronomer) waxing enthusiatic about Comet Linear, I was mui listo. First stop: Mars!

Syrtis Major is back! Sure, local diturbances continue to obscure S. Minor and environs - but S. Major is large and in charge. At north - rimming the pole: Mare Boreum, Uchronia, & Utopia - best views yet!. Why? Because these regions contrasted nicely with a luminous North Polar Cap (NPC). Yes, the NPC (and SPC) are prominent. So for the record: This sketch was done exclusively at 180x. Medium blue and red filters employed. (Syrtis Major was visible direct). Local sky stability at or slightly better than 5/10 -(edge focus achievable).

Meanwhile, at the north backyard observing station, the Pup was setup in anticipation of Comet Linear. Double Double showed two pairs of lovely little airy disks at 132x. Between each pair, the 12.0 mag come could be picked out on extreme aversion and 12.5 on eye movement. So the Pup was revealing stars (direct) down to magnitude 11.0. And this before skydark! Later, I caught the 13.0 just east of the Ring on eyemove (at that same magnification). So, for the Pup, sky stability was 8/10 and ZULTM transparency around 5.5. (And of course, the King of Rings is always a pleasure to contemplate.)

Later with Delta Cygni just entering the middle-third, the Pup hinted at the 7.8 magnitude companion. Nothing definitive - but at least it points to the possibility of resolution in the future. (When the Swan glides overhead perhaps?) About this time - and just before putting Argo away, the 150mm showed the companion sporadically - but definitely, on eyemove. So Argo's skies were a little less stable than the Pup's. (There is a world of difference between 7 and 8 stability. Larger scopes reveal atmospheric flaws more readily than smaller ones.)

Having completed MarsQuest (before skydark), I was ready for deepsky adventuring. In particular, to better characterize a few Messier's observed earlier in the season. But first I probed how far south I could get from Backyard Boulder Creek. For it seems that I have but one new find on my year-long observing plan that lies less than 10 degrees above the horizon - 6.6 magnitude globular cluster NGC6541. And no, even as the globular entered the lowest possible spot between two southern trees - the cluster was a no show.

Happily, 15 degrees above the horizon IS accessible. So I was able to acquire Messier Clusters M6 and M7 and dim globular NGC6453. Meanwhile, local sky depth (slightly less than 5.0 ULTM) and stability (5/10) gave really nice views of these fine studies...

M6 - The Butterfly Cluster: This roughly 25 X 20 arc-minute scattering of 7 to 12 magnitude stars does look like a "Butterfly". The "wings" are easily seen as "two pendulous lobes" hanging obliquely east to west off the cluster's main body. Seventy-five or so blue and blue-white stars seen at 50X. What appears as the brightest "member" is located well-off on the northeast frontier. Most of the bright stars take positions in sinuous chains or ribbons - folding and enfolding. Several "star-voids" are seen with the enfolding chains. Dropping in the 180x eyepiece revealed several dim stars. These which popped into view like shy-children regarding an unknown visitor. A subtley lovely clutch of stars...

Both M6 and the next study - M7 - lie just above the "Scorpions Tail" and culminate at skydark this time of year. While M6 looks like a misty patch sprinkled with a few dim finder stars, M7 is large and lacks M6's "nebulosity". At 50X, the cluster spills well-outside a 1 degree field of view. At center, is an "lazy-H"-shaped region which gives it a sense of a "core" that M6 lacks. Perhaps a hundred stars are visible. Due to the clusters large apparent size, star-density is low. Member stars range in mangitude from 6 to 12. Many of the brighter members lie to the west. (These may have provided the radiation pressure needed to drive the process of star birth in the region.) Turning 180X on a void in the midst of the core revealed a half-dozen twelve plus magnitude stars peeping back at me...

Some 15 arc-minutes north and 30 arc-minutes west of the "lazy-H" is a small, dim globular cluster. At magnitude 9.9 and 4 arc-minutes in apparent size, NGC6453 has an average surface brightness of 12.6. Given the local transparency (<5.0 that far south), I was surprised to pick it out of M7's peripheral star field. Before scanning for it, I switched to the 25mm 70X eyepiece. This gave me that little bit of extra reach needed to reveal the cluster's "gauzy nebulosity". To be sure, I could just barely hold the cluster direct - but I noticed that each time I turned on the red flashlight and scribbled a note, aversion was necessary to find the cluster. At 70X and with moderate aversion, it just revealed a dim, star-like core surrounded by a very faint core region. Some northeast flaring was possible on eye movement. That corresponded to a subtle "flattened region" southwest. The cluster did not take 180X well - although this gave a good view of 11th and 12th magnitude stars flanking the cluster (west and east respectively). The best view of the cluster was at 120x. In many ways, NGC6453 is similar to the even dimmer Intergalactic Wanderer (in Lynx). But that particular cluster - even with the advantage of better sky position - is a tougher catch...

M23 - "The Dragonfly Cluster": No kidding. This cluster also shows the kind of serpentine star-chains suggestive of "wings" M6 does. To the northwest (some 30 arc-minutes distant), is a blue-white 6th magnitude star. Between wing-lobes and star is a line of a half-dozen 10 through 12th mag stars - straight as a dragonflies tail. In all, some seventy-five components visible over a 20 arc-minute region of sky. Again, I couldn't resist dropping in the 180X eyepiece to view some of the cluster's "shy" members...

One final cluster was called for. Some twenty-five degrees due north (and three or four degrees west) of M23 is a brightly scattered group that Monsiour Messier undoubtedly came across but deigned too "uncomet-like" to include in his catalogue. This cluster (IC4665) lies about one degree east and 2 degrees north of third magnitude Beta Ophiuchi. It is also one of the few non-globular cluster studies in this remarkable globular-studded constellation. Given the dozen or so 7th magnitude stars that populate IC4665, it makes an easy finderscope find. For some reason, while visiting this sprawling ( 1 degree plus), low density (maybe three dozen stars) cluster, I decided to check for double or multiple star groups. After a few minutes, I abandoned my whim. Strangely, no two stars lay even close enough together to form as widish a pair as the famed Albireo in the Swan...

It was about this time that I shifted Argo to the east viewing station. There I dutifully evaluated telescopic sky depth (12.6 at 180X) and stability (7/10). This by rounding up the usual deepsky suspects. Meanwhile, with the Lyre well overhead I could barely make out a 5.5 magnitude test star (SAO 67164) found by extending the line from Gamma through Beta Lyrae to the west some two lengths.

Now for the Pup and the Veil Complex: God, you have to love four degree views of the sky! Thread in an OIII bandpass filter. Drop in the 35mm Ultrascopic for 13X and you can pull in the three remnants of a star that died tens of thousands of years ago. A star which probably lit up the entire cosmos with the luminosity of an entire galaxy. A star that fulfilled its all too brief career as midwife to thousands of other dimmer Suns - each with its own special destiny to illumine the "dark matter" of space and give birth to time and home to sentience...

All three protions of the Veil Complex were possible. The Eastern Veil (NGC6960) wended its way from the brighter, tightly flowing stream some half a degree south of fourth magnitude 52 Cygni and spilled out into the wider, diffuse delta of nebulosity to the north. Meanwhile, some two and a half degrees west, large and "feathery" NGC6992 curved outward away from the eastern remnant. Long and more contrasty, the Western Veil's northern section is quite dense, and well-defined. Ssouth of a tenth magnitude field star, the dimmer southern region displays vague hints of delicate detail. Both of these sections are far wider and more luminous than the Eastern Veil. Finally, about halfway between the the Eastern and Western Veil, and much more difficult than either of the two, is an extremely diffuse, half-full-moon-sized remnant. This somewhat north of the bright sections of the two main nebulae. This "Northern Veil" (NGC6979) can be found by extending the curve of the Western Veil northeast. Just to glimpse it, even with averted vision is enough to satisfy a longing to encompass the entire complex in a single view... But beyond this, 80mm Pup was even able to show me a wee bit of central brightening. How much more will be possible on the darkest of nights as the Swan glides effortlessly overhead later in the Summer???

Then there is Linear. Bright, (vaguely seen with unaided vision about five degrees northwest of Epsilon Pegasi) and sassy. Huge, elongated head (at 13X - probably half as large as a full moon). Bright central core. Dimly suspected tail splaying off to the west(?) (Sorry, notes are incomplete here - gives me another reason to view it again soon!). In viewing it, I inwardly acknowledged theAstronomer for nudging me away from my stolid observing plans and providing guidance to track down what turned out to be an incredible comet - before it dissappears into the dark of interplanetary space.

No doubt about this one. No Comet Schmausse this. No sweeping the heavens in dim hopes of catching a vague, furry, patch of imaginosity in the night sky. Linear is the REAL THING!

Time Enough...

This evening - like the last - I find myself a bit "time-stressed" over the self-engendered demand to document one evening's observations before beginning another. Someimes it seems that something's gotta go, or I'm going to blow! (OK, breath deep, relax. It's Bohemian Rhapsody time: "Nothing really matters, no nothing really matters toooo meeee".) Oh yes, where was I? Obs report.

Mars: Early evening - before skydark. Couldn't get edge-focus. Syrtis Major present and vaguely accounted for. Storms? What storms? (Oh well, maybe smaller, more localized, after last night nothing much Mars-east of S. Major...)

Comet Linear: My last view before retiring to comfort of wife and bed. And the answer is... "West-southwest" - diverges at maybe a 30 degree angle - huge, but hard to spot distinctly - lots of guesswork involved...

Polaris: Pup showed 8.8 magnitude companion averted at 44X. This, just about the time 3.8 magnitude Gamma Lyrae could be held direct visually. Argo showed the secondary direct, a bit earlier at 50X. (Like Dan's Tak FS102 did at last Saturday's SCAC star party.) Need to do an exacting job of comparing the two for one of my "many" side projects...

Double Double: Early on a poor split of the easier E2 pair through the Pup, no split of more disparate-magnitude E1. Later (around 11), Argo showed both pairs with reasonable but not exceptional precision - thus 6/10 overhead sky stability.)

Delta Cygni: No sign of 7.8 mag secondary - again 8/10 stability needed to resolve this close, disparate-magnitude pair. A solid 7/10 sky seems to show it in fits - but not definitively. My how those spurious star images "swell up" - even with slight differences in turbulence. (Another factor - atmospheric water. I've noticed this particularly in association with the E1 pair. Simply "drowns out" the light of a visibly dimmer companion.)

Much later: Pup shows 13.0 star near Ring on eyemove at 132x. Argo requires mild avert at 180. 5.5 magnitude test star (SAO 67164) just shy of direct hold - with the Lyre overhead toward midnight. Telescopic magnitude: 5.6 (magnification independent) for both scopes. Unaided transparency to 5.5--. Solid night! - stability notwithsstanding - especially down low.

Again later: Faint nebula NGC6888 ("The Crescent") can just be unambiguously observed with the spine of Cygnus well into the skies middle third. In fact, the difficult (dim) extension (that makes the Crescent, a crescent is possible without aversion. Use of OIII filter did'nt enhance the view - but it did confirm I was seeing something other than star haze from coincidental 7th and 8th magnitude stars. (Coincidental stars are the bane of "threshold nebulae" such as the Crescent...)

Also late in the evening: At 50X with an OIII filter, Argo gave a better view of the Eastern and Western Veils than Pup did with filter the previous evening. (Unfortunately at 50X, not only was it impossible to fit all three regions into Argo's one degree field - but neither veil would fit even by themselves.) Certainly the Pup took a contrast hit due to 13x sky brightness. But Argo took one due to larger image scale. Offseting this, Argo's extra light gathering added that little bit of extra "presence" needed to bring out brighter details. Where Argo really fell down was on the very low contrast Northern Veil - just couldn't be sure I was seeing anything more than normal "sky texture"... So small-image scale (and resulting contrast improvements) is especially valuable with low contrast studies.

Of the three, the Western Veil offered the greatest future potential. Another .5 magnitude should begin to reveal some of the fine filamentary structure that is the essence of this study. I look forward to the night!

Now what of the rest of the night? Between skydark and the Lyre's culmination, I spent a good deal of time characterizing studies from my observing plan. Among them the Lagoon and Trifid Nebulae!

I began way down low - some minus 38 degrees south declination and three degrees west of the fine multiple Nu Scorpii. There, just dissappearing into the southwest foliage, I caught a small, faint scratch of stars emulating an "Urlenmeyer Flask" (complete with pipestem of four or five stars escaping vaporously to the southwest). The cluster (NGC6281) showed maybe two dozen stars magnitudes 7 to 10 - the brightest to the northwest. To be accurate, the veils of night had not truly descended at the time of the find. (I'd say ULTM 4.0.) However, had I waited no view whatsoever would have been possible.

Having finished up the accessible studies in Scorpio, I figured it was now was a good time to diligently explore the deepsky potential near the galactic core. So I began by following the vapors that "rise out" of the Teapot's Spout in Sagittarius... Some two degrees north (and slightly west) of Gamma Sagittari is another small, faint scratch of stars. But with a difference. This cluster (NGC6520), is embroiled in "nebulosity". And I quote nebulosity purposely. Visible members (some two dozen) are only the tip of a very dense iceberg. No matter how much magnification you bring to bear, the nebulosity never completely evaporates. More and more dimmer stars are resolved. All of which lie in an apparent space less than 5 arc-minutes in diameter and bear the general shape of the letter "Y".

Glad you asked... Continuing north (through the finderscope), I easily catch two largish, misty regions in succession. Now note, this time I don't quote nebulosity - because both are the real thing. Gauzy clouds of diaphanous light against a rich background of Milky Way stars. One nebula (M8), has a fine open cluster for a neighbor and the other (M20) enshrouds two fine 8th magnitude stars - one of which is a lovely double of real artistic interest.

M8: The Lagoon Nebula Summer's answer to the Great M42 in Orion. (As though this particular season needs an answer.) Three obvious lobes of nebulosity separated by dark bands. The brightest to the west, followed by the southern and eastern lobes in succession. There's a certain "rounded square" aspect to each of the lobes. This becomes clearer through an OIII filter which enhances the presence of the separating bars between the lobes. The western lobe shows a significant luminosity gradient across its surface. But nowhere did I see hint of tenuous folds and rifts possible in the Great Nebula. Such details may present themselves at higher magnifcations - but for this evening at least - I was content to take the entire region in at once at 50X.

At one time there may have actually been four lobes associated with the Lagoon. The fourth, (to the southeast) has now gone over to seed - star seed that is. In fact this particular seed takes on the shape of a certain sweetly delicious "low hanging fruit" - the strawberry. Now, try as I may, I have yet to find mention of the Lagoon's "gone to seed" fourth lobe in the literature. Surely it possess name or number? In fact, I half expected this particular cluster to be the more northern M21. This assumption caused me no end of confusion, especially once I turned up the Lagoon. For in that case the Lagoon would have made more sense as M20. Speaking of which:

M20: The Trifid Nebula Like the Lagoon, the Trifid Nebula can be seen in the finderscope. Simply sweep some 2 degrees north (and slightly west) of the Lagoon and you come across a straightline scratch of stars embroiled in dim nebulosity. Center the main tube between the brightest pair and there be it. Or is it? Personally, I have yet to have a night when I can not find this nebula. One reason: 37 degrees north latitude. Another: I never try to turn it up with any kind of moon or through a sky that couldn't show 5th magnitude stars.

Overall the nebula is about as bright as M43 in Orion. Unlike M43 there are two lobes instead of one. Like M43, Trifid nebulosity is star-centric. The larger, more obvious lobe lies southwest and ensconces a fine double star. The dimmer region lies northeast. In general the two lobes appear rather rectangular as a unit. A bar separates them, but an OIII filter is helpful here - otherwise the two lobes just seem to bleed into one another.

As mentioned, each nebular lobe centers around what appears an 8th magnitude star. The southwest star is seen to be double on close inspection (at 50x). Striking colors! The 8th mag primary appears blue. Some 5 arc-seconds southwest is a red 10th magnitude secondary. I could find no direct reference to this pair in my local resources. By comparing M20's sky coordinates with those in a online double star database (http://www.virtualcolony.com/sac/star-search-form.html) I thought the best match to be HJ5009. That star is actually triple. Companion of magnitude 9.8 some 3.9 arc-seconds northwest of an 8.4 magnitude primary. More research is necessary. (Especially due to the discrepancy in position angle.) Certainly finding the star again is not an issue - unless you observe during a Moon or on a night of poor transparency.

It's now 8:45. Night is decending. Argo and the Pup are getting anxious - (Me? Never!) I have one more study to document: M21.

M21 is another diminutive "scratch of light" open cluster. Some 4 X 6 arc-minutes in size, oriented northeast to southwest. Detectable in the finder, some 2 dozen stars taking on a rectangular shape are seen at 50x. In shape, the cluster resembles a "three-legged rearing bear with antennae". Antennae to southwest, legs to northeast. The bears trunk shows a few additional 11+th magnitude stars at 120x. Frankly, this particular Messier displays no more real presence than the NGC6520 open viewed earlier in the evening.

It's now 9:06. I have yet to consider what to view tonight. Of course I'll round up the usual suspects -0 but the unrelenting Moon and advance of the seasons demands that I pursue my observing plan for the year. I'll let you know how it turns out. (OK jeff, you can exhale now...)

Against a Pitch Black Sky...

Yes, even the clouds were beautiful...

The last few days have been quite demanding - observationally and documentionally. Of course, such demands go hand in hand - the more you observe, the more you report. So, last night I stepped off the treadmill and limited my ambitions. Circumscribed my domain. Put scope on the scope. Only three new studies - and what a three: The "Great Cluster of the South" - M22. The fabulous "Cats Eye Planetary" - NGC6543. And what turned out to be the finest, easily located, dim multiple star system I've ever come across - "The Trifid Trio".

First the Trio. I did the research. There is no confirmation. I can't give you the designations. The closest match - doesn't. Three stars. One magnitude eight - the Primary - radiant-azure blue. Tenth magnitude Secondary - deep sapphire blue. Eleventh magnitude tertiary - pale blue-gray. Three stars. Secondary southwest - perhaps 4 arc-seconds distant. Tertiary northeast - at most 1.5 arc-seconds distant. All three lined up. Primary to center. The bright pair more color embued than any dim stars have a right to be. The dimmest, so close that it is only suspected at 180x. At 360x clearly distinguishable. But dim, very dim. Despite this can be held direct by an eye thousands of lightyears distant. At 540X, that eye wove in and through it questing, inspecting - admiring. These are three possible "sheppard stars" driving a vast cloud of interstellar gas and dust into action. Pushing outward, shocking with vast waves of radiation pressure. Compressing a near vacuum to the point of inward spiral and condensation. One day, to glow feebly and later, ignite a torch of Nuclear Fire.

See for yourself... Watch the beginnings of the whirlings...

How could I follow such a study with anything less than the incomparable "Great Cluster of the South"? Sure Omega Centauri is brighter - and larger, but Omega is a southern observer's delight - just as The Great Hercules Clsuter is our own. But M22, is for everyone. Large: Easily 15 arc-minutes in diameter. Star-studded: Hundreds of ten plus magnitude stars - even across the core. Shapely: Visibly elongated core region lying along the axis of sky motion. vast numbers of distant outliers. Structured: Curious voids with long, thin bars dividing up the core region at high magnifications (210x+). Strangely, no star chains or arcs - just too many glowing points of fire for the eye to group in simplistic ways. On any clear and reasonably steady night, this globular cluster is a treat for just about any telescope...

As easy to locate as Globular Cluster M22 is, Planetary NGC6543 is not. On the far side of the celestial equator, some 67 degrees north latitude, and well away from any fifth magnitude guide stars - the Cats Eye richly rewards the human eye of the persevering observer. But to find it, you need a still night. For, though it be uniquely shaped, and bright enough to detect in a finderscope, this 18 arc-second planetary could easily be dismissed as just another out-focused star.

Until you look closely and at high enough magnification (120X suffices). Then you see it - the unblinking pale blue-green iris of a Celestial Cat. Regarding you with precise, detached curiosity. At 120x the planetary is clearly elliptical with a north-south major axis. At 180x, a brightish core point is possible (shifted slightly north). Higher magnifications (210X) begin to reveal a ragged edge. At 360X, a large faint haze begins to redouble the planetary's apparent size. 540X shows you that the western frontier is brighter than the eastern.

Then you run out of tools. This happens just as the planetary begins to break up. You are left undecided and can't determine if the source of the cracks are the planetary's, the skys, the eyes, or the equipment.

It took maybe half an hour to stumble on the Cats Eye through Argo. Tried a variety of navigation methods - everything BUT setting circles. No method proved elegant. In the end, used the few stars on my charts to approximate a position. Then started sweeping the area at 50x. Looking for the usual small planetary indicator: A "bloated star". At that I wasn't too sure when first acquired. 120x confirmed it. Two stars lay very close, a ninth magnitude blue star 3 arc-minutes due west and a thirteenth magnitude star hovering on the edge of the seen 2 arc-minutes northwest. Both display nicely in most astro-photos of this bewitchingly beautiful planetary.

Early on - before skydark - I turned Argo on Mars. Drawing at left, the result. Despite decent edge sharpness nothing that stood out consistently in the view. Blue filter brought out both polar caps. The nrothern caps collar was quite present in this light. Red filter showed gradations of albedo across the planets surface. Darkish to earth-east and lightest earth-west. A bright yellow very near the Earth-west limb). Orange and brownish-red elsewhere. Occasionally, S. Major caught my eye to earth-east and dissolved again. Nothing happened with the focus - so I can't account for it. Features opposite S. major were subdued. Hints of S. Minor. Planet's atmosphere is probably still at it - but apparently not always...

Also got a look at Antares. Seeing down low, maybe 6/10 stable. About where I get fleeting glimpses of the companion. And thus was it so. Delta Cygni's companion was evident last night. Not crisp, but there.

Overhead, the sky was very dark. But frequently interrupted by large, fast moving clouds. A few completely obscuring the stars. Between patches I could just hold the 13th magnitude star near the Ring (direct at 180x). (This is 6+ ZULTM country.) A jet black sky save for silver-fluffed clouds reflecting the wasted light of Lightdome Boulder Creek.

Even the clouds were beautiful...

Hard Work in Playland

Friday evening's clouds nixed plans for organized observations at China Ridge. With an impending moon, that workload shifted over to last night's SCAC star party. Earlier that day I received a series of charts to help locate four "challenge doubles" (from fellow observer Cor Berrevoets). Even with the combined workload, I broke away occasionally for play. Leon's excellent 10 inch Coulter dob provided wonderful views of the Omega Nebula and Veil Complex. Ralph's Meade 10" LX200 gave a fine view of the Cat's Eye Planetary's central star. Jack's Orion XT10 revealed the presence of the aptly named "Eagle Nebula". Argo gave fine views of the incomparable Globular Cluster M22, the Ring of Rings (M57) and the smartest Dumbbell in the heavens - M27. But the evening started ominously with a silver crescent Moon obidiently following the Sun over the horizon to the west. Meanwhile Mars lay well above the southeastern horizon. Knowing that soon this apparition will be a memory, I turned Argo on Mars and hoped for that one sharp-hewn view of the planet yet to materialize.

Despite a fine, stable soouthern sky, there was no "once in an apparition" view last evening. Under blue filter, both polar caps (or their atnmospheric shrouds) were clearly discernable. A bright grin of "limb haze" could be seen - tracing the earth-western limb of the planet from pole to pole. Of the maria, only the dark collar demarking the NPC was obvious. The remainder of the planet definitely in "Maria Obscura" - only vague intimations possible. It was very easy to conclude that the planet resumed its stormy ways. Views at 360 and 540x showed decent edge-focus. The problem was not in our skies - but in those of Mars itself...

Mars, of course, is very near its rival - Antares. Despite the stability in the region - and to my puzzlement - no definitive view of the stars 5.4 magnitude companion was possible. Nor were the required preconditions evident. As it its usual want, the star showed a flashing spurious image - lacking in the pre-requisite airy disk needed to disclose its diminutive neighbor...

As of last evening one final low declination study remained on my observing plan - Globular Cluster NGC6541 (in Coronae Australis). This 13 arc-minute, 6.6 magnitude globular would easily rival the fine Ophiuchan clusters M10 and M12 in presentation. But alas, low sky position and an early hour of culmination took its toll. Under ULTM 4.0 - 4.5 conditions, I was able to make out some 4X3 arc-minutes of core, core region and beginnings of a bright halo at 180x. There was a very definite "roughness" about the cluster that screamed "dozens and dozens" of resolvable stars. (A 10th magnitude star could be seen some 5 arc-minutes east of the core. But is undoubtedly a field star.) The cluster appeared flattened southwest. Some flaring possible on eye movement but this technique needs the advantage of darker skies to give reliable results.

Following this success, I made a quick check for Alpha Ara and open cluster IC4651 (located a degree or so to the stars' west). Third magnitude Alpha was easily located some seven degrees south of Theta Scorpii. The smallish (12 arc-minute), 6.9 magnitude open cluster was not. At best detected a faint, vaguely circular patch of "haze" roughly one 70X field width west. The clusters 12.0 average surface brightness is simply not susceptible to a 150mm scope while hanging three degrees above the southern horizon at culmination...

By this time skydark was upon us. And what a wonderful skydark it was. The Milky Way wended its way across the heavens. From the Scorpion's tail, through Sagittarius and southern Ophiuchus, Scutum, Aquila, Cygnus, obscure Lacerta and onward to a distant Cassiopeia to the northeast. Breathtaking. Filled with brightenings vast and small, large dark bars and bays, and curiously attractive islands of illumination. Later near midnight, and well overhead counteless dim stars lay at or near naked eye visibility. A feast for the unaided eye, remarkable in binoculars or rich field scopes and simply overwhelming in detail for large scale views of small scale studies in scopes of all apertures at higher magnifications.

Having noted this splendour, I elected to continue pursuit of the evening's agenda - but not without dwelling on The Great Sagittarian Cluster - M22. Spectacularly riddled with hundreds of resolved starry points. Always a delight!

Meanwhile neighbor Leon turned up the Omega Nebula (M17 north of Mu Sagittarii) in his 10 inch dob. Aided by OIII filter and framed by a superb wide field 22mm Panoptic eyepiece, the 10 inch not only rendered the brighter "check mark" region obvious - but also a much larger region of extended nebulosity.

About this time I was visiting the King of Rings with Argo. The planetary stood out in bold relief against an essentially pitch black field of view at 180X. The 13 magnitude field star just east of the Rings trailing ansae clearly discernable as a small point of light. Inspecting the star at several magnifications, I found that - even at 50X - it could be held with moderate aversion. Now some of my readers may be aware that I am generally unhappy with the amount of coma and astigmatism displayed by Argo at low magnifications. Assuming the 35mm and 25mm Ultrascopic eyepieces I use for low power views were properly field stopped, - I concluded that Argo not the eps were the source of the problem. While viewing the Omega Nebula, "Jeff the Scopist" emerged and got the idea that - Leon permitting - it would be nice to try the Panoptic in Argo.

HUGE mistake. The Panoptic performed incredibly. Stars were gorgeous! And this across the entire 60 plus degree field of view. In fact I didn't even notice the strange abberations usually seen while moving the eye above the eyelens. Planning to return this fine instrument to Leo quickly, I didn't get a chance to exhaustively evaluate its potential, but this cursory experiment really whetted my appetite. (And oh yes, depite the large number of elements used in the Panoptic's construction, I didn't even notice a loss in transparency while checking the Ring's 13th magnitude star.)

About this time noticed Ralf between studies, so I recommended he turn the LX200 onto the Cats Eye Planetary in Draco. Two evenings ago, I had personally spent thirty minutes tracking down this camouflaged cat in the hinterlands above the Dragon's Head. Ralph promptly entered the keystrokes (NGC6543 - BTW: I love this designation) into the goto handset and within a minute (and after some brief sweeping in the general locale at low power) the Cat was staring back at us. Ralf then spent the next thirty minutes or so on his observing stool getting acquainted with the planetary at a variety of magnifications. Later, I was invited to look at 500+X. After a few seconds, the 11.3 magnitude central star clearly revealed itself - barely outshining the elongated disk of blue-green nebulosity it spawned and stimulates to irridescence.

For me the real "work" of the evening was about to begin. There was a depth and quietness to the sky that cried out for a challenge - and I had just the ticket. Four tight doubles, each with primaries at or near magnitude 6. Each with secondaries at or near magnitude 8. Each with separations less than or equal to 1.1 arc-seconds. Each with charts to aid in tracking them down with confidence.

The first (BU63) was rather easily located some one degree southwest of Epsilon Delphini. The stats on BU63 are 6.23/8.05, .9" PA: 349 degrees. These numbers suggest that Argo would need a night of 8/10 stability supporting 440X to get a clean split. On turning it up, I instantly noticed the fine whitish airy disk of the primary, surrounded by a single diffraction ring and two main areas of concentrated brightening located at precise right angles to one another. These brightenings appeared to be about magnitude 7.5 in intensity. Neither fell north-northwest of the primary. But at this point I consciously chose to not exploit position angle data while searching. For the next forty-five minutes I scoured the region near the star at 210, 360 and 540X (without right ascension drive!). Not seeing anything suggesting a dim companion, I confirmed the star against the chart - while even viewing some neighboring stars - all to no avail.

Moved on to STF2403 in Draco. This one required the usual Draconian half-hour track-down time. Stats on STF2403 are 6.28/8.4, 1.1" PA: 281 degrees. Nice yellow airy disk - again surrounded by a single diffraction ring with two right angle areas of brightening. Again the same process. High magnifications star drift, verification of star location, check of nearby stars - nothing.

Now how about 6.04/8.2, 1.1" PA:245 STT457 in Cepheus? Easier to locate (in the middle of the "house") but after everything said and done, only a note that says "Brightening on diffraction ring south of west."

Finally, 5.74/7.81, 1.1" PA:2 BU694 Lacerta: "Closest to resolving of all four, possible faint secondary to north".

So what's going on here? Diffraction rings. Yup, the secondaries really are no brighter than the promaries first diffraction ring. Quality apochromatic refractor (without obstruction) would have had nailed these down - I'm sure. But not a scope with a 34% central obstruction. Argo just pushes too much light out of the airy disk into the ring. In terms of 6 mag stars, the average surface brightness of the ring itself is maybe magnitude 8. At 1.1 arc-seconds a secondary sits right on top of this ring. So no show.

Can I prove it? No, not to you - but to me (and for the time being). For you see I came to this conclusion while observing the doubles. One check? Dropped in on 1.4 arc-second 6.0/6.8 double Pi Aquilae. Absolutely beautiful, clean split at all magnifications. Room for another 6 mag airy disk between the two near-equal brigtness components. Primary yellow, leads white secondary across the sky. Fine double and a good reminder to me of just how far apart 1.4 arc-seconds is at 540X.

So I revisited the .9 mag separated BU63 in Delphinus. There, in the expected position - slightly west of north was a dim, barely perceptible, averted vision companion - closer to the primary than the two brighter right angle brightenings on the diffraction ring.

It was now 2:00am PDST. I checked Delta Cygni - past culmination. 7.8 companion not visible. As stable as he sky was, I can make no claim to it meeting the calculated requirement of 8/10 seeing stability - very close however.

Before knocking off I turned Argo on the Dumbbell Nebula in Vulpecula. Extremely present - a glittering of a half dozen stars visible at various points across its apple core shape.

This was the evening's final treat and one, in my estimation, well deserved...

Intuition

I had no intention of viewing Mars this evening. My observing plan was set. The waxing Moon made sure of that. The hope was to spend some quality time with Sagittarian bright nebulae M16, M17 and planetary NGC6572 in Ophiuchus. But I had a supra-rational inner calling to look at Mars.

So I looked - and the sketch at left more or less captures what was visible at 10:00 PDST this evening. Stability at the time was so-so (maybe 5/10). Drawing made at the 180X eyepiece. Once finished, made a check at 360X - but seeing stability didn't really support the magnification. Notice west is reversed from Argo's usual presentation. Mar's low sky position does have at least one advantage - the diagonal can be dispensed with (allowing for a "straight through view"). Again not sure how much this improves the image quality - but it can't hurt. (Especially since I collimate the scope without the diagonal.)

In terms of detail, there are some conspicuous absences - a "Major" one in fact. The "wedge" is missing from the earth-eastern limb of the planet. Meanwhile, on the far side of the planet, Mare Cimmerium is suggested. And along the central meridian, Mare Tyrrhenum probable and possibly S. Minor eartheast of that. But no sign of S. Major - emerging as it should at this hour from Mar's western (gibbous) limb.

To the north, and surrounding a diminutive polar cap, are hints of Uchronia, Utopia, and "sharktooth" shaped Casius - a feature usually overwhelmed by the darker S. Major towards which it usually points.

Several bright regions were seen. Ausonia, above Mare Tyrrhenium. The SPC lies above Ausonia and to earth-east. Surprisingly, the Hellas - Zen Lacus region was not particularly "present". Meanwhile, right where you might expect to find S. Major, a wedge-shaped brightening is depicted.

Observationally there is nothing confidence-inspiring about this drawing - nor in fact about Mars in general. It will probably be several more apparitions before I finally "get it". There is no "Mars" out there. "Ahhh grasshopper, now you learn, you can not observe the same Mars twice."

Early on I took a quick look at the Moon - and did not like what I saw... Selene can be wonderful when well presented and through a crystal-clear and steady sky. But hanging as she did some twenty-degrees above the horizon is like dressing a beautiful woman in shabby rags...

Also got a decent 7/10 stability split of the Double-Double. Even before skydark the 12th mag comes could be made out - one at extreme aversion and the other on eyemove.

Dropped by the King of Rings as well. Under 4.5ULTM - not you best view - but the 13th magnitude star could be vaguely seen on eyemove at 180X. So with a three-day Moon above the horizon and perhaps half-hour before skydark, Argo was holding stars to magnitude 11.5.

With the Mars drawing complete, turned Argo on Antares at 360X. Under the conditions, I would have been surprised to catch a glimpse of the 5.4 mag companion. Interestingly, I left the red filter in place. Got a nice view of the red stars airy disk - but still too much in the way of spurious flashing to catch the companion.

This brought me up to 10:30. Full skydark. Moon low and behind the mountains to the west. Milky Way streaming north out of Sagittarius. Made a quick check to see if the low contrast Trifid Nebula could be seen. Yep, finder and main tube at 50X. Good sign! Now for the Omega Nebula - M17.

Started at the Trifid, visited briefly with open cluster M21. Continued northeast to the stellar treasure trove M24. Then to M17 - easily seen as a hazy patch in the finder.

This is one extremely elegant nebula. Not sure where the "Omega" tag comes from - but when I look at this lustrous, contrasty space-cloud I see a lovely swan drifting effortlessly on the ocean of space. But not alone - quite well attended. Stars! Groups of them - especially to the northwest.

The nebula also gives a very real sense of "dimensionality". The tail comes to a perfect "ducktail" at east-southeast. From the tail, there is a consistent brightening along the swans gentle form. Luminosity falls off evenly off axis. The swan's head rides south of the westernmost point. There's even a faint sense of a neck sweeping backward. What is most striking is the nape of that neck. There appears to be a dark bar behind it to ensure good contrast between the nape and the shoulders. This illusion runs well back away from the nape toward the tail. Meanwhile surrounding the swan is a faintly textured sky - especially north and east. Clearly the nebula is much larger than the 10-15 arc-minute long swan-like region.

I had hoped to view M17 at a variety of magnifications and with the OIII filter. But this was not to be. Within a few minutes of locating the nebula clouds rolled in from the east. I watched as the Swan slid in and out of view - as though waking from a dream...

It's now 12:15am. I'm going to step out and see if the overcast has passed. If possible I'll take one more look at M16 before putting Argo away and posting this report...

As it turned out, the sky was clear again - but at first I could hardly tell. Dark adaptation was completely lost. After about ten minutes, I could again view the nebula - now progressed some twenty degrees west of where I left it. (Fortunately with Argo north-aligned I just needed to twist the right ascension knob to catch up to it in the finder.) Despite the nebula's brightness - it really doesn't take magnification well. 180X washed it out - but did reveal that a large part of the swan's head is composed of a small group of tenth magnitude stars. The view through the OIII filter didn't really reveal much more of the nebula - but part of this may be attributed to lost dark adaptation.

A few more checks to make before I tuck Argo away for the night...

Delta Cygni did its usual "in and out of focus" thing. No sign of its companion either. In fact it's almost as if Antares and Delta are in cahoots. 'A conspiracy of doubles.'

I turned Argo on the King of Rings - just past culmination. Dark adaptation still marginal. After a few minutes things got worse. Clouds rolled in again.

Look, its a sign from on high! Put the scope away, post your report and hit the sack. "Aye, aye, sir."

Weather as of Late

How's the weather lately? Fine. Overcast in the morning. Beautiful, sunny-blue sky afternoons. Clear evenings until oh, say, about 10 o'clock - then the clouds roll in. Perfect weather for the amateur astronomer - who wants to catch up on sleep...

This evening started promising enough. By skydark, Milky Way visible. Before that, nice clean split of the Double Double. View of Mars at 360x (straight through barlow configuration) stable enough to reveal that the mid-section of the planet remains "maria obscura". Antares showed an airy disk at high magnification - but emersed in far too much spurious flashing to disclose a magnitude 5.4 companion. (Although during one all-too-brief moment of exceptional stability, I was surprised by an instantaneous apparition at 360X.) Why, I could even make out the western concentration of the Trifid nebula - even with a 30 percent moon!

From the Trifid, headed north and east. Scanned that large, incredible wealth of stars designated "M24". Amazing how rich this region is here - stars everywhere, and behind those stars, more stars. No end to the depth of magnitude and number...

From M24, continued north and east to the "Swan" (Omega) Nebula. Not quite the view of the previous evening. Moon closer and brighter - but nebulosity still quite present.

From the Swan continued almost due north (and slightly west). Caught a brightening in the finder. Knew this would be the open cluster / nebula combination M16. Centered on the brightening. Switched to the main tube at 70X. Very pleased to see Argo reveal obvious nebulosity in association with a rather sparsely populated and brightly scattered cluster. Now I'd seen the "Eagle Nebula" before - at the last SCAC star party (through a pair of 10 inch scopes). Both instruments revealed the classic "standing eagle, wings spread" shape of the nebula. Neither showed it with the kind of presence possible with the Lagoon or Swan Nebula. In fact. judged its presence to be somewhat less than that of the Trifid Nebula. Frankly, I figured Argo was going to have a tough time with this one - especially under the conditions of the evening.

But even without the OIII filter, made out a dim band of nebulosity southeast to northwest - along with a concentration east of the northwest clutch of stars associated with the cluster. To be clear, the "Eagle" did not land in the 70X eyepiece. This required use of the filter. Filter or not, I could see the nebulosity spill well-outside the open cluster per se. The bulk of the extended nebulosity ran north and east. To the south the sky was darker and lacked that "dim hazy glow" seen elsewhere - particularly near the clusters star groups and at its thinly populated core.

The star cluster displayed no more than three dozen stars. One group - already mentioned - and by far the most populous, lay to the northwest. It consisted of more than a half dozen 7th magnitude stars - two of which appeared as a well matched double (separated by perhaps 15 arc-seconds and oriented roughly north-south). Southeast of this main group were another three or four 7th magnitude members. West of that, a third group with two 7th mag components. I judged the cluster to spread perhaps 20 by 15 arc-minutes oriented along a southwest to northeast major axis. Member stars ranged in magnitude from around seven to twelve. The cluster's "core" was quite large, but appeared almost star-free. At 70X - without the filter - I could see several 11th and 12th magnitude stars. These located especially to the west. Given a personal tendency to see asterisms in any group of stars, I noted that the entire collection looked like a fully-dressed "Knight's Steed" - head to south, hooves to west.

Pleased to have discerned nebulosity associated with the cluster, I continued my journey north - well north as a matter of fact. First touchstar - third magnitude Eta Serpens. Then I followed a trail of widely spaced fourth magnitude stars north until the bright wide finderscope pair 71 and 72 Ophiuchi could be caught to the west in the finder. Centering on the more southerly dimmer star (71) I swung the main tube 2 degree south and 1 degree west to track down 9.0 magnitude 8 arc-second NGC6572.

After a few passes at finding this small bright planetary, noticed a general brightening of the 70X field of view. Meanwhile the stars dimmed ominously. Looking up, it was clear, that it wasn't.

It's There, But Where?

The recent pattern of morning overcast, afternoon sunshine, evening stars, and midnight clouds did, in fact, play out this evening - but not as expected. Satellite imagery of the western continental US and Pacific ocean showed precisely the same "fingerprint" as previous eveings. A vast sea of overcast breaking against the warm Pacific coastline - just waiting for temperatures to drop and then good bye, night sky...

Expecting the worse, yet hoping for the best, I set Argo up early. From the south observing station, spent some quality time observing the 45% moon. Given sky position - and a decently stable sky - this kind of lunacy isn't really half bad. In fact