In my misspent youth, I had an experience that profoundly changed me and, in fact, accounts for the fact that I have been doing public work in astronomy for almost half a century.
Saturn has returned to our central Ohio sky at last. No astronomical sight is more breathtaking, even in a small telescope, than Saturn’s celestial hat brim. Around 10 p.m., look for the ringed planet low in the southeastern sky as a yellow point of light.
March 20 marks the vernal equinox, the first day of spring. Spring is, of course, a time to shed your long woolen undies and revel in the joys of nature. The flowers will explode with color, the birds will sing their sweet songs and nature will be reborn after the long dead time of winter.
I’m a teacher by trade, and December can be a trying time for pedagogics. What with recalcitrant students, big stacks of papers to mark, sleepless nights — most of them cloudy and starless — and cold, snowy drives to work, December is not the most enlivening of months.
The Christmas shopping season is upon us, and a child’s fancy often turns to thoughts of telescopes. I’ve had several requests to expand on my comments about telescope buying and the accessories associated therewith, so here goes:
Jupiter is back to our evening sky — at last. Of course, it never really went anywhere. Diehard stargazers have been viewing it in the early morning sky for months.
Our Milky Way galaxy is often described as a flattened disk of hundreds of billions stars. That description leaves out some of our galaxy’s most interesting parts. Hovering above and below the main disk are the suburbs of our galactic city — 150 or so globular clusters of stars. Along with some stray stars and occasional gas molecules, globular clusters are the main constituents of what is more properly called the “galactic halo.”
Leo, the Lion, has always had great religious significance. I’ve heard it said, for example, that to the ancient Hebrews, Leo is the lion that is the symbol of the tribe of Judah.