 |
|
-
1524
NOVEMBER 2, 2025: Looking Down to Look Up
-
Before the semester at Moravian begins, I always make sure that our cadre of telescopes on the Sky Deck atop the Collier Hall of Science is in working order. Have any of the parts fallen off or screws loosened during the summer months due to building vibrations? Are the instruments aligned to the North Celestial Pole, including the finder scopes, so that when students start using them in the upcoming weeks, there are a minimum of issues? Thank goodness, everything survived this past hot, rainy, and muggy summer season. If there was any change to the treetop view from the Sky Deck, it was the new HUB (Hubbert Union Building) with its huge glass windows. Each room was lit brightly, adding to the growing campus light pollution with which my students must contend. That was to the west. In the east, Liberty High School was having its inaugural football game that Friday evening. Their old-fashioned stadium lights, three blocks distant, added even more sky glow than the new HUB and John Makuvek Field combined. * It was about as clear a night as the summer produces, yet I was only able to view easily four stars in the sky with my unaided eye. I went home depressed, going into my backyard to make sure the sky transparency had not deteriorated. Sky conditions were excellent. * Astronomy does not get any traction when a 45 million dollar investment that will improve the lives of all Moravian students and faculty is constructed, so I'm not trying to make this into a rant about the University's feelings about the sciences or light pollution. * Is there a way to outsmart the lights of the night? I recall learning that my predecessor, Dr. Joseph Gerencher, contested the narrow A-shaped rooftop of PPHAC, which impaired the southwestern horizon from the Sky Deck. However, the design plans went ahead, and the slate roof became a reality, blocking the southwestern view. The southwestern horizon is important because most of the school year takes place with the sun setting to the south of west. * Even if Moravian turned off all its campus lights, including Liberty's stadium lights, the Sky Deck would still be an undesirable place to observe the night sky. However, four stars visible from Collier's rooftop at the time of excellent sky conditions was a new low. * The following evening, August 23, I presented a talk on auroras at Hawk Mountain near Kempton, PA. My address in their outdoor amphitheater was a precursor to observing the heavens from this beautiful mountaintop sanctuary. Friends of mine, supporters of Moravian University, including members of the Lehigh Valley Amateur Astronomical Society, came together with telescopes to share their knowledge of the heavens and highlight some of the stellar beauties of the late-summer sky. However this year, when I walked from the amphitheater to the observing area, there was only one telescope in use and no one looking through it. Another huge instrument stood silhouetted against the trees like an Easter Island Moai statue. Most participants were huddled around my friend, Terry Pundiak, who was showing enthralled viewers a galaxy that a Seestar 50 telescope, a completely automated, 5.5-pound instrument with a 50mm, apochcromat lens, was capturing live at that moment. Another friend, Peter Detterline, had his Seestar imaging a globular cluster, M13, a grouping of about 300,000 stars in the constellation of Hercules. The images were extraordinary, and with built-in light pollution filters, the unit could be used anywhere, even on top of the Sky Deck, where only four stars were visible on that late summer evening. Suddenly, there were possibilities of looking down on a smartphone or tablet to view a beautiful image of the heavens compiled in real time by a fully automated telescope. It does not mean abandoning the larger telescopes for the moon, planets, and double stars; however, for deep-sky objects like galaxies and nebulae, there may be a solution to cutting through the unwanted light pollution in Bethlehem. Pictures taken with my Seestar 50 can be found below. Ad Astra!
|
The Double Cluster in Perseus is a young aggregate of stars formed together from a cloud of hydrogen and dust about 12.8 million years ago. They are related to each other. Open or galactic clusters eventually evaporate, leaving their members to orbit the galaxy as orphaned stars with their planets and moons, similar to the sun. Gary A. Becker image using a Seestar 50...
|
|
At the end of their lives, low mass stars like our sun eject 30 to 70 percent of their mass before evolving into a white dwarf star. A wonderful example of this is the Dumbbell Nebula, 1360 light years from the sun, found in the constellation of Vulpecula. The star at the center has become a white dwarf. Gary A. Becker image using a Seestar 50...
|
|
With its 250mm focal length the Seestar 50 still manages to capture the moon in sufficient detail. The images look good on a computer laptop or smartphone, but appear soft when projected onto a screen. The Seestar 50 shows the planets without any detail, simply looking like stars. Gary A. Becker image using a Seestar 50...
|
1525
NOVEMBER 9, 2025: "What If I Say the Wrong Thing?"
In her book, What If I Say the Wrong Thing?, author Verná A. Myers provides 25 habits for culturally effective people to consider in their own behavior, ABA Printing, 2013. Myers, Esq., is the principal of Vernā A. Myers Consulting Group, LLC, an internationally recognized expert on diversity and inclusion, as noted on the book's jacket. Sounds like heady stuff, perhaps akin to the makings of a college lecture on bad behavior; however, Myers remains grounded throughout her 132-page conversation about diversity and inclusion, with personal anecdotes of her own mistakes and those of close associates and friends. This modesty and self-evaluation make the text engaging and particularly relevant without evoking any prejudice towards the author. Myers makes it easy for the reader to identify personally with her scenarios and offers advice to see how one might avoid or mitigate similar situations. There is no blame game here because we have all made similar mistakes as we have navigated the occasional rocky road of life. The point is to recognize oversights in conduct that may be offensive to groups that are culturally distinctive from one's own norms and attempt to adapt to these differences in a positive manner. * The fundamental kernel of wisdom is a simple-to-understand table that Myers devised, depicting those individuals who operate and live their lives at an advantage and those who are at a disadvantage. Rather than using terms that might be abrasive to some individuals, Myers wisely refers to life advantages as a "one-up" and disadvantages as a "one-down." From her table of 11 basic advantages and disadvantages, I presently scored eight one-ups, two one-downs, and one neutral. * One-ups for me are the fact that I am white, male (and tall), heterosexual, Protestant, college educated, US born, an English speaker, and able-bodied. One of the downsides was my management level as an adjunct at Moravian University and being over 40 as an adult. Actually, I'm 75, a real one-down if you think about it, but I'm healthy with plenty of activities to keep me occupied and enjoying life. The one neutral situation was my military status. I was never called to serve; however, this could be a one-down if you participated in the wrong war, Vietnam or the Gulf conflicts. * I'd like to say that her list was a real eye-opener, but it was more of a confirmation of some of the traits that I have carried along with me during my life. I believe these behaviors were never overtly displayed. Still, my advantages were more noticeable by teaching in the Allentown School District, which underwent significant changes during my 38-year tenure, transitioning from a virtually all-white educational system when I first became employed in 1972 to one where whites were in the minority, at 18 percent, when I retired in 2010. During the second half of my teaching career, my students were primarily from low-income backgrounds, with some living below the poverty level. They were generally happy adolescents, extremely loyal, and continually provided me with an enjoyable teaching experience. However, they carried with them many more one-downs than I ever experienced at their young age. It was more of a struggle for them to succeed than it was for me. * The one chapter that stood out, among all the others, was the need to apologize when mistakes are made. An apology is such a simple gesture that humanizes an indiscretion and asserts to all parties a willingness to evolve. Apologizing for an error is not a sign of weakness, but rather a sign of strength because it shows a desire to be better. For all of the unknown transgressions that have passed from my lips into my students' ears, I sincerely apologize. No one is perfect, but we can all strive to do better in a less-than-perfect world, and that is what Verná A. Myers' book advocates so clearly. Ad Astra!
-
1526
NOVEMBER 16, 2025: What's Wrong with Iceland?
-
It's snowing in Iceland on October 26 as I write this. I know that should not seem unusual since the Vikings settled the island, and it is just south of the Arctic Circle where frozen precipitation is not uncommon. The locals say snow usually does not come to Iceland until December, so I assume this was a teaser of things to come. Global warming is indeed delaying the white stuff because the Northern Atlantic has warmed disproportionately to other oceanic regions of the world, particularly in the Southern Hemisphere. * Up to this point, my trip to Iceland with friends, Jesse Leayman and Peter Detterline, has been a little disappointing. Our objective, just like last year, was to observe the northern lights. Cloudy conditions, rain, and now snow have affected our ability to observe Iceland's incredibly dark skies, but the main culprit has actually been the auroras themselves. * We are just off the crest of solar maximum, the best time to see the northern lights. Last year, we experienced vivid, all-night, displays from our perch in Arnarstapi, about 60 miles north of Reykjavik in Vesturland. This area contains the Snæfellsjökull volcano of Jules Verne fame. That has not been the case this year. Thinking our aurora shows would be all-sky, we did not take into account the 1000-foot volcano immediately behind and to the north of our rental property. They were not! Still, our poleward horizon allowed the asterism of the Big Dipper to miss the summit easily, but auroral activity was different this year, even with indicators very close to our experiences 12 months previously. The several clear, frosty nights we experienced at our first rental property about 30 minutes from the small town of Höfn, a very rural site along Iceland's southern coast, presented us with hazy greens and muted reds that dwarfed our expectations. Outbursts did occur and were recorded with better equipment than last year, but they were fewer and much farther apart from our previous experiences. You can see images of our trip here. * The beauty of Iceland is that even under subdued auroras and mixed weather, the country offers an abundance of breathtaking vistas and locations to visit, and we were not shy in taking advantage of the areas that could be reached where passable road conditions permitted. Chief amongst these was Diamond Beach, where the distant Jökulsárlán Glacier was caving large chunks of ice into its lagoon. The ice, once reaching the neck of the lagoon, was carried away by its powerful outflow stream that converged with the wind-tossed North Atlantic about one mile distant, breaking most of the ice into smaller pieces. The onshore gales deposited the sculpted and smoothed ice back on shore during high tides. The sun did the rest, transforming the bluish to greyish pieces of ancient snow into a sparkling shoreline of glittering, million-carat diamonds that contrasted brilliantly against the black volcanic sands found everywhere on Icelandic beaches. We visited Diamond Beach three times in our five-day stay near Höfn, including hiking in and around its icy lagoon. * Oh, I just noticed it has stopped snowing and the sun has come out. More about Iceland next week, hopefully under clear aurora-filled skies. Ad Astra!
|
Comet Lemmon graced the evening sky at our location of Höfn, Iceland. American enthusiasts could observe Lemmon in the morning sky as a binocular object, but from Iceland, because of its much higher latitude, Lemmon was visible in the early evening as well. Note the muted reds and green of the northern lights in the wide field image. Peter K. Detterline (inset) and Gary A. Becker (wide field) images...
|
|
One of two major outbursts that were observed on two separate evenings from Höfn, Iceland. Gary A. Becker image...
|
|
Diamond Beach with its black volcanic sand, icebergs, and pieces of sculpted ice that wash up on shore during high tides, speaks for itself as a natural wonder that begs to be visited. Pete, Jesse, and I were there on three separated occasions during our five-night stay near Höfn. Gary A. Becker image...
|
|
Sheep ready to cross the road near the town of Höfn, Iceland... Gary A. Becker image...
|
-
1527
NOVEMBER 23, 2025: Waiting for the Northern Lights
-
On the US East Coast, the observation of any astronomical event has about a 50 percent chance of being visible due to weather conditions. Here in Iceland, where meteorological forecasts are as unpredictable as walking on smooth ice, significant changes in patterns can occur in as little as three hours. To cite an example, the cloudy conditions experienced on Sunday, October 26, began to dissipate during mid-afternoon as predicted. By dinner our entire area was under clear skies as the Icelandic Meteorological Office had forecast. Jesse, Peter, and I were in an exuberant mood as we grabbed a pizza and burger dinner at a local cafe in Hella along the south coast. Americans will find pizza very appealing when traveling in Iceland. My plump, cheesy, jalapeño-laced Mexican chef's d'oeuvre was washed down with Viking Beer, so I was spicy hot by the time I dressed in my multiple layers and ventured outdoors to begin photographing the partly cloudy sky. When more clouds opaqued the heavens, I came indoors all dressed up with no place to go. To bide time, Jesse streamed A Quiet Place, one of my favorite sci-fi movies, where the aliens invading Earth have superhuman hearing but are completely blind. They also use their hands for rapid locomotion, not a good sign. How they created a technologically advanced civilization that could travel through interstellar space beats me, but somehow they were here and ravaging humankind. The movie does glue you to your seat but somehow halfway through the flick, I managed to pull myself free and check on my skyward-pointing gear. It was snowing on my camera. We then continued with A Quiet Place Two before calling it quits and going to bed. The forecast had gone from good to horrible in just a few hours, but I did manage to image a little green in one of my early photos before the heavens transitioned to overcast. * The following Monday morning, we ventured to the 200-foot-high, 80-foot-wide Skógafoss falls and spent the windy, partly sunny afternoon hiking up its steep staircase and following the Skógar River to many other spectacular vistas of cascading water leading to the main drop. It was a delightful day with a tasty cod dinner (In Cod We Trust, according to Icelanders) that transitioned into a snowy evening and Tuesday morning. The blowing, wet snow did not stop us from attempting to visit the inland geyser basin of Iceland, about a 75-minute drive northwest of Hella, until the road became snow-covered about eight miles west of town. Retracing our steps east downslope to warmer climes, we found Seljalandsfoss, another beautiful series of waterfalls, the most significant allowing walking passage behind it, a first-time experience for me. Returning to Hella in moderate snow for dinner and then to our cottage, we found about three inches of fresh powder on our wraparound deck, and a night of wintery conditions in the making. Wednesday held the promise of clearing skies, a star-filled night, and an active aurora prediction. Perhaps we would win the prize of an all-sky show after all—more about Iceland in next week's StarWatch. Ad Astra!
|
Seljalandsfoss: has a 65-meter (213-foot) drop that you can walk behind. That isolated tendril of water to the far right doused me when a wind gust caught me off guard. Gary A. Becker image...
|
-
1528
NOVEMBER 30, 2025: Snowbound in Hella, Then Jackpot
-
The snows came to Iceland yesterday afternoon (October 28) and into the night, dropping between six and eight inches of dry powder in and around our town of Hella, making it feel more like Christmas than Halloween. Reykjavik's snowfall amounted to 27 centimeters (10.6 inches), a record for October that dates back to 1921 when record-keeping began. Most roads became impassable, the international airport in Keflavik closed, and movement from place to place came to a standstill. With the passage of the storm came a rapid drop in temperature including blustery north winds that heralded drifting snow. It took Peter about an hour to shovel our wraparound deck, some lee areas having well over a foot of snow cover. The aftermath of the storm revealed a radiant blue sky, and the Icelandic Meteorological Office's forecast predicted an active aurora for that evening. That night we hit the jackpot. * During twilight, we began to witness green curtains to the north, shimmering against the darkening turquoise sky, and then activity became more quiescent. That is something that most first time enthusiasts don't understand. Unless you are consumed in some mind-blowing mega event that occurs once in a decade, displays, even during an active session and under the idyllic Icelandic auroral oval, are going to wax and wane. Most of the time is spent in a waiting mode, watching the sky, looking at the data coming in from the aurora forecast centers, and hoping that the electron dump in Earth's upper atmosphere will occur over your specific area of observation. * The other important factor in observing auroras is to have your eyes well-adapted to the dark. The older we become, the longer it takes our pupils to open to their maximum aperture. That width can be as great as seven millimeters (1/3-inch) if you are in your teens or early twenties, but if you are older, that time can slip to as long as 30 minutes. Emerging from a brightly lit room and making occasional skyward observations will probably result in disappointment, as I have heard several Icelandic travelers recount to me. Our house remained unlit throughout the night as we navigated using red headlamps to maintain our dark adaptation. * Appropriate dress cannot be overstressed either. Temperatures dropped to a numbing 17 degrees F. by 1 a.m. across a snow-covered landscape with a steady wind between five and 15 mph, occasionally gusting to over 20 mph. Wind chills cascaded into the single digits and at times below zero. During the three all-sky outbursts we witnessed, the most spectacular materialized around 1 a.m. Strands of descending plasma like twine formed a tight, brilliant, yellow condensation near the zenith. The knot bubbled internally and then unraveled into a whip-shaped crescent, all within 15 to 20 seconds. Spectacular! My images of this specific event do not do it justice, but can be found near the conclusion of my PDF presentation which highlights the trip. * If you are looking for a place with spectacular vistas, snow-capped volcanoes, glaciers, icebergs, ocean panoramas, auroras, and just plain friendly people who speak fluent English, you might consider putting Iceland on your bucket list. Just don't travel there in the summertime to view the northern lights because it doesn't get dark. Spring and fall are your best bets during times when sunspots numbers crest, and Sol has reach peak magnetic activity. Ad Astra!
|