A Time When Dogs Seek Shade

 

Orion the Hunter

Back in the '70's and '80's I had the good fortune to live on the beach of a small barrier island at the mouth of the Savannah River. My house was a raised Caribbean-style cottage built in the 1920s. The porch overlooking the Atlantic faced southeast and was ideal for capturing the summer trade winds. At this time of year when I looked toward the horizon I saw a beautiful event unfold many times in the hour before dawn. Those hours and the imaginary music of the spheres evoke memories so vivid they seem to have occurred only yesterday.

First, Bellatrix, a blue giant star rose out of the Atlantic haze to be followed soon by the red giant, Betelgeuse. Soon the blue giants, Mintaka, and Rigel followed. At this point viewers saw a signature belt of three stars and a faint sword. Experienced sky watchers knew that Orion the Hunter was ascending. In minutes the belt stars pointed to shimmering Sirius, a binary star also known as the Dog Star. It was by far the brightest star in the sky but soon it and all the others would dissolve in the blinding light and heat of another summer sunrise.

Sirius the Dog Star

In the Nile and other valleys of the ancient Middle East, all eyes turned to the summer dawn anticipating the appearance of Orion and Sirius. They signaled the coming of the floods, of water for life and eventually for civilization. To the ancient Greeks the rising of these stars with the sun signaled the peak of summer heat when even dogs chose not to leave shade. They came to call this time of year hemerai kynades, a phrase that translates directly to "dog days." We have come a long way in time since scribes first recorded Sirius rising from the damp mud along the banks of the Nile. But we still experience the Hunter and the Dog, now both lost in daylight, one awaiting his turn to rule the autumn sky, the other to remind us that his days, the sultry dog days, are still with us.

While some people dread them I look forward to the coming of the "dog days." The heat makes me thrive and my arthritis becomes a memory. Atlanta's climate data tells us that on average the warmest days of 2023 will be behind us in a few weeks. The sun is already casting ever longer shadows as it arcs lower across the southern sky. Leaves hang limp on trees catching more and more of that light giving the woods a golden hue even at midday. The aging summer has also brought this year's acorn crop closer to maturity. I can tell because the squirrel community in our woods is starting to work overtime on an early and ripening harvest.

Calm days and high temperatures also lead to popcorn thundershowers that meander across the region waiting to die out as fast as they arise. So far they've brought powerful lightning, the positive strikes that start fires, several inches of rainfall, high winds, and pea sized hail. With that said it's time to envision sitting comfortably on the screened porch where a big ceiling fan quietly generates a steady breeze and your sweating sweet iced tea feels good even to the touch. The forest surrounding me is a still landscape interrupted by an occasional bird or squirrel. If you stay there long you witness the yellowing light of day giving way to the twilights, the lightning bugs, the cicadas, then the katydids and a chorus of north Georgia tree frogs.

I love all of those twilight sounds but I love the katydids most. They remind me of long summer vacations and drifting to sleep in my bed next to a cottage window that opened wide to both their chatter and a comforting breeze moving down the West Virginia mountainsides of my childhood. It was there I first developed a passion for forests, for flowing water, for a clear sky I felt I could almost touch. Over sixty year later that passion leads me to waken before the sun to witness a pattern of stars rise out of an unseen ocean and bring me summer. Bring it on!

Footsteps On The Moon

 

Lunar Module Eagle in landing configuration, July 20, 1969

July 20, 1969, fifty-six years ago today, the Apollo Lunar Module Eagle landed on the moon. Millions watched at 10:56 PM, EDT, as Neil Armstrong, the commander of the Apollo 11 mission, descended the Eagle's ladder and made what he called a "giant leap for mankind" with his final step onto the powdery lunar surface. Learn more about the Apollo 11 mission here on Wikipedia where you can find scores of links to more National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) reports and multimedia.

Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin, the lunar module pilot, spent almost 22 hours on the moon including their 150 minute walk where they erected an American flag, collected soil and rock samples, and deployed experiments. On their return to Earth much of the material they collected was eventually archived and displayed at the Smithsonian Institution. Some rocks entered our culture in some fascinating ways, including this one at the Washington National Cathedral, where one was embedded at the center of a red planet in what has become known as the Space Window.

Time is catching up with those first attempts at exploring our nearest celestial neighbor. Neil Armstrong passed away in 2012 at the age of 82. Buzz Aldrin turned 94 earlier this year. Michael Collins, the command module pilot, passed away in 2021 at the ago of 90. With the creation of the Artemis program in 2017, the US and its partners hope to return to the lunar surface with a crewed polar landing scheduled for 2025. That's an ambitious target date , but no more so than the private sector timetable for similar missions to Mars. Regardless of what the future holds, those early years including the mission we commemorate today were an exciting and almost magical time for science, exploration, and discovery of the frontier "out there."






Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
atlasobscura.com, Space Window detail
nasa.gov, Space Window, full photo

Text:
Wikipedia.com

The First Full Day Of Summer

About ninety minutes before midnight last night the s astronomical event we know as the summer solstice introduced the season on the East Coast of the US.  Today, the first full day of summer, the sun reached its highest point in the sky in the northern hemisphere producing the longest day and shortest night of the year.

Summer solstice sunrise at Stonehenge, Wiltshire, England

Although the sun begins its daily descent from that highest point tomorrow, insolation from our star will continue to raise atmospheric temperatures until late July. As this day marks the end of the season of renewal and the beginning of the season of growth and flower, I am reminded of this quote by the renowned American novelist, essayist, and critic, D. H. Lawrence:

The greatest need of man is the renewal forever of the complete rhythm of life and death, the rhythm of the sun's year, the body's year

There's plenty of interesting and appropriate music for the day including this 13th century English round:

Middle English

Sumer is icumen in

Lhude sing cuccu!

Groweþ sed and bloweþ med

And springþ þe wde nu,

Sing cuccu!

Awe bleteþ after lomb,

Lhouþ after calue cu.

Bulluc sterteþ, bucke uerteþ,

Murie sing cuccu!

Cuccu, cuccu, wel singes þu cuccu;

Ne swik þu nauer nu.

Pes:

Sing cuccu nu. Sing cuccu.

Sing cuccu. Sing cuccu nu!

Modern English

Summer has arrived,

Loudly sing, Cuckoo!

The seed grows and the meadow

blooms

And the wood springs anew,

Sing, Cuckoo!

The ewe bleats after the lamb

The cow lows after the calf.

The bullock stirs, the stag farts,

Merrily sing, Cuckoo!

Cuckoo, cuckoo, well you sing,

cuckoo;

Don't ever you stop now,

Sing cuckoo now. Sing, Cuckoo.

Sing Cuckoo. Sing cuckoo now!

Here is a tone poem, A Song of Summer, written some 700 years later by Frederick Delius and transcribed and arranged by Eric Fenby:

And then there is summer as the season of youth, the school break, the summer job, of free time and good friends, and for many what the renowned mythologist Joseph Campbell called "friendship set to music."

May your summer living be easy and wonder-filled.











Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
photo, nasa.gov

Text:
thoughtcatalog.com

It's Old Man Winter's Favorite Season

Today is the first day of Winter and the shortest day - less than twelve hours of sunshine -  of the year in the Northern hemispere That event as well as the coot evening temperatures will be more than enough to awaken thoughts of sub-freezing temperatures, howling winds and depths of drifting snow measured in feet. 

In Henry Purcell's 1671 semi-opera, King Arthur, the spirit of Winter is depicted as Cold Genius, a frozen old man who much prefers dormancy under snowdrifts to an invitation to celebrate the coming of Spring.

What power art thou Who from below Hast made me rise Unwillingly and slow From beds of everlasting snow See'st thou not how stiff And wondrous old Far unfit to bear the bitter cold I can scarcely move Or draw my breath I can scarcely move Or draw my breath Let me, let me, Let me freeze again Let me, let me Freeze again to death Let me, let me, let me Freeze again to death...

Much of the nation won't have long to wait Cold Genius's favoite weather. Personally I don't look forward to cold temperatures, ice, assorted freezing slop, and black snow lining city streets for the next three months. On the other hand, the thought of lengthening days that arrived with today's solstice brings a big smile to my face. This rebirth of the sun has brought happiness to humans for quite a long time.

The Newgrange Tumulus in County Meath, Ireland, is a nice illustration of this long-standing respect for the rebirth of light and warmth to a culture. The burial mound has a passage that aligns perfectly with the winter solstice sunrise. People have observed the illumination of the keystone at Newgrange for over 4500 years. That's long before Stonehenge and the Giza pyramids existed.

The winter solstice is also know as Midwinter is some circles. Here is unquestionably the song of the day, In the Bleak Midwinter, a perfect blend of nature and the "coming of the light" in the celebration of the birth of Jesus.

In the bleak mid-winter

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak mid-winter

Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him

Nor earth sustain;

Heaven and earth shall flee away

When He comes to reign:

In the bleak mid-winter

A stable-place sufficed

The Lord God Almighty,

Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim

Worship night and day,

A breastful of milk,

And a mangerful of hay;

Enough for Him, whom angels

Fall down before,

The ox and ass and camel

Which adore.

Angels and archangels

May have gathered there,

Cherubim and seraphim

Thronged the air -

But only His mother

In her maiden bliss

Worshipped the Beloved

With a kiss.

What can I give Him,

Poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd

I would bring a lamb;

If I were a wise man

I would do my part;

Yet what I can, I give Him -

Give my heart.

For the next six months the sun will climb a bit higher every day in the Northern Hemisphere. We won't notice heat from the "rebirth" of the sun until a month or so into this cycle. While the lengthening days can give us hope that the "dead season" will soon come to an end, we can still enjoy the experience of a world at quiet rest.

Sources

Photos and Illustrations:

Newgrange aerial photo, gaia.com
Newgrange plan and section, public domain illustration, William Frederick Wakeman, Wakeman's Handbook of Irish Heritage (1903), archives.org

Hunter's Supermoon Rising Tonight

Tonight we usher the full Hunter's Supermoon into the twilight of a mid-October evening. From Angle-European traditions many say the moom takes its name from the beginning of hunting season. It's a logical progression from last month's Harvest Moon - also a supermoon - when farmers could gather their crops under the moonlight. This month they could hunt a variety of game feeding on remants in the empty fields.

The Moon

by Robert Louis Stevenson

The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;

She shines on thieves on the garden wall,

On streets and fields and harbour quays,

And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.

The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,

The howling dog by the door of the house,

The bat that lies in bed at noon,

All love to be out by the light of the moon.

But all of the things that belong to the day

Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way;

And flowers and children close their eyes

Till up in the morning the sun shall arise.

I always enjoy the Hunter's Moon because its arrival also means that the constllation, Orion the Hunter, rises out of the eastern horizon around midnight and domininates the southern sky until dawn.

You may recognize Orion even better without all the imagination. You won't be alone as Orion is the by far as the world's best known constellation. It's hard to miss the belt and scabbard.

October also brings us three important meteor showers. The Draconid shower peaked about a week ago. The waning Hunter's Moon coincides with the peak of the  Orionid shower on October 21 when you can expect to see up to twenty meteors per hour. The Taurid shower - actually two overlapping showers - is slowly building to a peak from late October to early November. The moon will have a minimal impact on viewing so you have a good opportunity to see some fireballs expected this year.

Into late October northern hemisphere sky viewers have an opportunity to see Comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS (also known as C/2023 A3 or simply as Comet A3) which hasn't been seen from Earth for 80,000 years. It's at its brightest now and will be easy to spot as a naked eye object by looking toward the western horizon about about 45 minutes after sunset.

Hope you enjoy this double treat tonight. It's going to be a long wait to see this event again. 

See Tonight's Harvest Moon, A Supermoon, And A Partial Eclipse

 

The moon, like a flower in heaven's bower, with silent delight sits and smiles on the night.

                                                                William Blake

This full moon is special because it coincides with its orbital perigee or closest approach to Earth. That makes our moon appear larger, thus, we know it as a supermoon. They actually occur about four times a year and tonight you'll be able to enjoy it along with a partial eclipse beginning just after 10:00pm Eastern Time.

From the mountains to the sea Georgians should have a spectacular view of the Harvest Moon this year. For many years I was fortunate to witness September's full moon emerge from the sea. It was always a sublime event powered by the realization that you were a witness to a sensory immersion experienced by coastal inhabitants for thousands of years. The simplicity always amazed me. Here was a man, a strip of sand, a plain of water, all under a dome of sky and caressed by the touch of wind and the sound of surf. Add the rising moon and expect the surreal. The experience was so powerful even when friends were along the conversations almost always stopped in homage when the first moon sliver rose out of the sea.

Lowcountry moonrise, McQueens Island, Savannah, Georgia, 1951

. . .Her eyes, he says, are stars at dusk,

Her mouth as sweet as red-rose-musk;

And when she dances his young heart swells

With flutes and viols and silver bells;

His brain is dizzy, his senses swim,

When she slants her ragtime eyes at him.

Moonlight shadows, he bids her see,

Move no more silently than she.

It was this way, he says, she came,

Into his cold heart, bearing flame.

And now that his heart is all on fire

Will she refuse his heart's desire? . . . .

Tonight when the harvest moon is climbing high, go outside. Take a friend or someone you love. Get lost in it.




Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
National Park Service, Fort Pulaski National Monument Handbook, 1954

Text:
intro quotation, William Blake, Songs of Innocence and Experience, originally published in 1789.
poem excerpt, Conrad Aiken, "Turns and Movies: VI. Violet Moore and Bert Moore"

Krakatoa Then, Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha'apal Now

 

The Scream                     Edvard Munch 1893

Imagine waking up on this fine Tuesday morning to hear that a gigantic magnetic storm will disrupt much of the planet's electronics and communication networks in two days. This event simply isn't going to break up your digital reception of Saturday's big game  - Go Dawgs. It's going to require months of reconstruction - software and hardware - on power grids, communication systems and circuit boards on land, sea, air, and in space. I raise this issue not to alarm but to use coronal mass ejection (CME) and similar electromagnetic pulse (EMP) events as modern-day examples of climate issues that need to compete with the longer term phenomenon of global climate change. Furthermore, I am not about to deny or denigrate the existence and significance of global warming and cooling. It happens and I have no issue with mitigation and preparation for the consequences. On the other hand, sometimes our priorities don't seem to match the serious short-term and potentially catastrophic threats we face. Scientists and engineers already know of an event in 1859 that, had it occurred this morning in our high tech electronic world, would have caused widespread threats to social, political, and economic systems worldwide.

Why raise the issue today? This day marks the 141st anniversary of the massive volcanic explosion of the Indonesian island known as Krokatoa. The event killed over 36,000 people, sent a measurable shock wave around the world seven times and produced the loudest noise heard in recorded history, a noise heard in Perth, Australia, more than 2800 miles from the island. Geophysical impacts included a decline of over 2 degrees in the planet's average global temperatures and more than a decade of memorable atmospheric events including, vivid sunsets, lavender suns, and noctilucent clouds.

This was an astounding event in earth history and a modern-day lesson in the fragile nature of the planet and its inhabitants. As I've said before, nature in all her beauty can be a cruel mother. In light of the recent events like Mount St. Helens, record setting earthquakes, earth-grazing fireballs, and meteors, it's also a lesson that radical global climate change could occur tomorrow as well as a century from now. Granted, the sciences in question are little more than 150 years old but we have come a long way in understanding, yet we know there are some events beyond knowledge and control.


This is a timely anniversary given that an underwater volcano (Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha'apal) in Tonga, a Pacific island nation, erupted in January 2022 and thrust as much as 160 million tons of water vapor into the stratosphere. Climatologists soon determined this instantaneous 5% increase in water vapor could likely increase global temperatures for some years to come. For climate scientists this is a unique event as it is the first eruption of its kind that can be effectively measured and analyzed. In other words there is no forecast model for the Tonga volcano. All science can do is observe, provide some analysis, and issue essentially speculative forecasts on the impacts of the event. If this year's high temperatures - it's called weather - tell us anything it's that climate scientists seem to be on to something.

Do keep the faith, my friends. There's a really good probability for sunrise tomorrow. The chances for more tomorrows are equally high because some of our finest earth and space scientists study and stand watch for these threats, short-term and long-term. I can't imagine a more exciting career than one exploring the far reaches of the planet and its journey in the universe.

In case you're wondering: Edvard Muunch painted four versions of The Scream of Nature over a seventeen year period beginning in 1893. Some experts believe his depiction of the vivid orange-red sky came from his observations of similar sunsets caused by the explosion of Krakatoa a decade earlier. I wonder how many artists will be incorporating the effects of Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha'apal on our environment over the next few decades.





Sources


Text:
The Tonga Volcano Shook the World: It May Also Affect the Climate, The New York Times, September 22, 2022

Look Up For The Perseid Meteor Shower - Maybe Auroras Too!

Perseid shower time lapse, August 2009 NASA/JPL

They're back! Yes, it's time for the Perseids, the most reliable meteor shower of the year. The shower peaks August 11-13 with best viewing after midnight and setting of the first quarter moon. The shower emanates from the constellation, Perseus,  named as one of the greatest hero warriors in Greek mythology. He is best remembered for slaying the Gorgon Medusa whose gaze could turn men to stone, and saving his future wife Andromeda from the dreaded sea monster, Cetus. He went on to use the head as a weapon on his journey to kingship in Mycenae (Macedonia). The goddess Athena would eventually place images of Perseus and Andromeda side by side as constellations in the Northern sky.

Perseus With the Head of Medusa

New research has concluded that the Perseid event produces more fireballs - meteors brighter than the planets, Jupiter and Venus - than any other shower so you can still see them even in full moonlight. One of the most spectacular fireballs I ever saw cut across at least 120 degrees of steel blue sky about half an hour after sunset. It's usually best to skywatch between midnight and sunrise, but predicting shower peaks remains a difficult task.

Here's how to enjoy the Perseids. If the night is clear, find a dark location, take a lounge chair or blanket and bug spray outside especially between midnight and dawn and look into the northeast sky. In that sky, you'll see a lopsided "W" known as the constellation Cassiopeia, an easy marker for its neighbor, Perseus. The shower radiates from this point as it rotates across the sky but it's important to note that meteors may occur anywhere in the sky dome. Furthermore, you will likely see some random meteors that will not fit the pattern. Don't bother with a telescope, but you may enjoy binoculars for exploring deeper into space when the meteor watch gets a tad slow.

This year the shower peaks at the same time a series of strong energy ejections from the sun will reach our planet. That means skywatchers in the mid lattitudes - those living north of a line from Washington, DC, to San Francisco - may see some vivid auroras.  

Also, if your weather doesn't cooperate at the shower's maximum, keep in mind that it will be gradually declining through the evening of August 18 so you still have a good chance of seeing a piece of the show. Also remember that the shower will be available on several You Tube live streams.

For the latest news about the shower and potential for auroras visit spaceweather.com.





Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
Perseus With the Head of Medusa, ca. 1800, Antonio Canova. Vatican City, Museo Pio-Clementino, Octagon Hall, Canova Cabinet

Text:
earthsky.org

Americans On The Moon 1969

Lunar Module Eagle in landing configuration, July 20, 1969

July 20, 1969, fifty-five years ago today, the Apollo Lunar Module Eagle landed on the moon. Millions watched at 10:56 PM, EDT, as Neil Armstrong, the commander of the Apollo 11 mission, descended the Eagle's ladder and made what he called a "giant leap for mankind" with his final step onto the powdery lunar surface. Learn more about the Apollo 11 mission here on Wikipedia where you can find scores of links to more National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) reports and multimedia.

Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin, the module pilot, spent almost 22 hours on the moon including their 150 minute walk where they erected an American flag, collected soil and rock samples, and deployed experiments. On their return to Earth much of the material they collected was eventually archived and displayed at the Smithsonian Institution. Some rocks entered our culture in some fascinating ways, including this one at the Washington National Cathedral, where one was embedded at the center of a red planet in what has become known as the Space Window.

Time is catching up with those first attempts at exploring our nearest celestial neighbor. Neil Armstrong passed away in 2012 at the age of 82. Buzz Aldrin turned 94 earlier this year. With the creation of the Artemis program in 2017, the US and its partners hope to return to the lunar surface with a crewed polar landing scheduled for 2025. That's an ambitious target date , but no more so than the private sector timetable for similar missions to Mars. Regardless of what the future holds, those early years including the mission we commemorate today were an exciting and almost magical time for science, exploration, and discovery of the frontier "out there."






Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
atlasobscura.com, Space Window detail
nasa.gov, Space Window, full photo

Text:
Wikipedia.com

The Hunter Rises From The Sea

Orion the Hunter

Back in the '70's and '80's I had the good fortune to live on the beach of a small barrier island at the mouth of the Savannah River. My house was a raised Caribbean-style cottage built in the 1920s. The porch overlooking the Atlantic faced southeast and was ideal for capturing the summer trade winds. At this time of year when I looked toward the horizon I saw a beautiful event unfold many times in the hour before dawn. Those hours and the imaginary music of the spheres evoke memories so vivid they seem to have occurred only yesterday.

First, Bellatrix, a blue giant star rose out of the Atlantic haze to be followed soon by the red giant, Betelgeuse. Soon the blue giants, Mintaka, and Rigel followed. At this point viewers saw a signature belt of three stars and a faint sword. Experienced sky watchers knew that Orion the Hunter was ascending. In minutes the belt stars pointed to shimmering Sirius, a binary star also known as the Dog Star. It was by far the brightest star in the sky but soon it and all the others would dissolve in the blinding light and heat of another summer sunrise.

Sirius the Dog Star

In the Nile and other valleys of the ancient Middle East, all eyes turned to the summer dawn anticipating the appearance of Orion and Sirius. They signaled the coming of the floods, of water for life and eventually for civilization. We have come a long way in time since scribes first recorded Sirius rising from the damp mud along the banks of the Nile. But we still experience the Hunter and the Dog, now both lost in daylight, one awaiting his turn to rule the autumn sky, the other to remind us that his days, the sultry dog days, are still with us.

While some people dread them I look forward to the coming of the "dog days." The heat makes me thrive and my arthritis becomes a memory. Atlanta's climate data tells us that on average the warmest days of 2023 will be behind us in a few weeks. The sun is already casting ever longer shadows as it arcs lower across the southern sky. Leaves hang limp on trees catching more and more of that light giving the woods a golden hue even at midday. The aging summer has also brought this year's acorn crop closer to maturity. I can tell because the squirrel community in our woods is starting to work overtime on an early and ripening harvest.

Calm days and high temperatures also lead to popcorn thundershowers that meander across the region waiting to die out as fast as they arise. So far they've brought powerful lightning, the positive strikes that start fires, several inches of rainfall, high winds, and pea sized hail. With that said it's time to envision sitting comfortably on the screened porch where a big ceiling fan quietly generates a steady breeze and your sweating sweet iced tea feels good even to the touch. The forest surrounding me is a still landscape interrupted by an occasional bird or squirrel. If you stay there long you witness the yellowing light of day giving way to the twilights, the lightning bugs, the cicadas, then the katydids and a chorus of north Georgia tree frogs.

I love all of those twilight sounds but I love the katydids most. They remind me of long summer vacations and drifting to sleep in my bed next to a cottage window that opened wide to both their chatter and a comforting breeze moving down the West Virginia mountainsides of my childhood. It was there I first developed a passion for forests, for flowing water, for a clear sky I felt I could almost touch. Over sixty year later that passion leads me to waken before the sun to witness a pattern of stars rise out of an unseen ocean and bring me summer. Bring it on!

National Meteor Watch Day 2024

Perseid Meteor 2012

Today is National Meteor Watch Day. The date, June 30, was chosen because it is the anniversay of the Tunguska Event in Russia in 1908. On that day a meteor perhaps as wide as 260 feet exploded at an altitude of six miles over the wilderness. The blast destroyed forests and wildlife, including severl large reinbeer herds, over a area of 840 square miles. Although there is plenty of evidence of even larger explosions of this type the Tunguska Event remains the largest in recorded history. 

Fortunately destructive meteors are an exceptionally rare event and should not keep us from enjoying what we've come to know as shooting stars, Although meteor showers provide better opportunities for watching the show it goes on every night. If you have a clear sky tonight would be a fine time to go outside and watch these small bits of space debris as they burn up in our atmosphere. The waning moon will offer only limited interference this year so a clear sky away from light sources should make for excellent viewing. 

Most meteors only survive about one second as they hit the earth's atmosphere at around 25,000 to 160,000 miles per hour. The show takes place anywhere from thirty to seventy miles above in the atmospheric region known as the mesosphere. Depending on composition and speed, meteors can appear in a variety of colors including white, orange, yellow, blue, purple, and red. If a meteor reaches the ground it becomes a meteorite. Thankfully, few meteors actually hit the earth intact but about six tons of meteor dust settles on our planet every day. Although it's fun to watch the sky for meteors and other near earth objects the potential for significant environemntal impacts on the planet certainly warrant their observation and study. Here is a good example why.

This day is also a good reminder that the Perseid shower, the most reliable of the year, peaks on August 13. Unfortunately the moon will be just past full so there will be plenty of interference that evening. All is not lost because the Perseids begin around mid-July and end in late August so there will be plenty of hours of clear skies and good viewing during that five week period.

Here's a link for more information about National Meteor Watch Day. For a forecast of what you can expect to see in the weeks leading up to and including the Perseids you can check out the American Meteor Society's website here.





Sources:

Photos:
Visian ICL Blog, visianinfo.con, Roberto Porto

Text:
wikipedia.com
nationalcalendarday.com

Summer 2024 Has Arrived

Today's astronomical event we know as the summer solstice arrives on the East Coast of the US shortly before 5:00pm this afternoon. On this day the sun reaches its highest point in the sky in the northern hemisphere. It's also the longest day and shortest night of the year.

Summer solstice sunrise           Stonehenge, Wiltshire, England

Although the sun begins its daily descent from that highest point tomorrow, insolation from our star will continue to raise atmospheric temperatures until late July. As this day marks the end of the season of renewal and the beginning of the season of growth and flower, I am reminded of this quote by the renowned American novelist, essayist, and critic, D. H. Lawrence:

The greatest need of man is the renewal forever of the complete rhythm of life and death, the rhythm of the sun's year, the body's year.

There's plenty of interesting and appropriate music for the day including this 13th century English round:

Middle English

Sumer is icumen in

Lhude sing cuccu!

Groweþ sed and bloweþ med

And springþ þe wde nu,

Sing cuccu!

Awe bleteþ after lomb,

Lhouþ after calue cu.

Bulluc sterteþ, bucke uerteþ,

Murie sing cuccu!

Cuccu, cuccu, wel singes þu cuccu;

Ne swik þu nauer nu.

Pes:

Sing cuccu nu. Sing cuccu.

Sing cuccu. Sing cuccu nu!

Modern English

Summer has arrived,

Loudly sing, Cuckoo!

The seed grows and the meadow

blooms

And the wood springs anew,

Sing, Cuckoo!

The ewe bleats after the lamb

The cow lows after the calf.

The bullock stirs, the stag farts,

Merrily sing, Cuckoo!

Cuckoo, cuckoo, well you sing,

cuckoo;

Don't ever you stop now,

Sing cuckoo now. Sing, Cuckoo.

Sing Cuckoo. Sing cuckoo now!

Here is a tone poem, A Song of Summer, written some 700 years later by Frederick Delius and transcribed and arranged by his amanuensis, Eric Fenby:

And then there is summer as the season of youth, the school break, the summer job, of free time and good friends, and for many what the renowned mythologist Joseph Campbell called "friendship set to music."

May your summer living be easy, wonder-filled, and set to music.






Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
photo, nasa.gov

Text:
thoughtcatalog.com

Winter Solstice 2023

In a few hours winter arrives in Atlanta. That event as well as the coot evening temperatures will be more than enough to awaken thoughts of sub-freezing temperatures, howling winds and depths of drifting snow measured in feet. Much of the nation won't have long to wait for that weather. Personally I don't look forward to cold temperatures, ice, assorted freezing slop, and black snow lining city streets for the next three months. On the other hand, the thought of lengthening days that arrived with today's solstice brings a big smile to my face. This rebirth of the sun has brought happiness to humans for quite a long time.

The Newgrange Tumulus in County Meath, Ireland, is a nice illustration of this long-standing respect for the rebirth of light and warmth to a culture. The burial mound has a passage that aligns perfectly with the winter solstice sunrise. People have observed the illumination of the keystone at Newgrange for over 4500 years. That's long before Stonehenge and the Giza pyramids existed.

The winter solstice is also know as Midwinter is some circles. Here is unquestionably the song of the day, In the Bleak Midwinter, a perfect blend of nature and the "coming of the light" in the celebration of the birth of Jesus.

In the bleak mid-winter

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak mid-winter

Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him

Nor earth sustain;

Heaven and earth shall flee away

When He comes to reign:

In the bleak mid-winter

A stable-place sufficed

The Lord God Almighty,

Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim

Worship night and day,

A breastful of milk,

And a mangerful of hay;

Enough for Him, whom angels

Fall down before,

The ox and ass and camel

Which adore.

Angels and archangels

May have gathered there,

Cherubim and seraphim

Thronged the air -

But only His mother

In her maiden bliss

Worshipped the Beloved

With a kiss.

What can I give Him,

Poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd

I would bring a lamb;

If I were a wise man

I would do my part;

Yet what I can, I give Him -

Give my heart.

For the next six months the sun will climb a bit higher every day in the Northern Hemisphere. We won't notice heat from the "rebirth" of the sun until a month or so into this cycle. While the lengthening days can give us hope that the "dead season" will soon come to an end, we can still enjoy the experience of a world at quiet rest.




Sources

Photos and Illustrations:

Newgrange aerial photo, gaia.com
Newgrange plan and section, public domain illustration, William Frederick Wakeman, Wakeman's Handbook of Irish Heritage (1903), archives.org

A Full Harvest Supermoon 2023

The moon, like a flower in heaven's bower, with silent delight sits and smiles on the night.

                                                               William Blake

A few hours before sunrise on September 29 the Harvest Moon reaches 100% percent or full illumination. This full moon is special because it coincides with its orbital perigee or closest approach to Earth. That makes our moon appear larger, thus, we know it as a supermoon. They actually occur about four times a year and tonight you'll be able to enjoy the last supermoon of 2023.

From the mountains to the sea Georgians should have a spectacular view of the Harvest Moon this year.  For many years I was fortunate to witness September's full moon emerge from the sea. It was always a sublime event powered by the realization that you were a witness to a sensory immersion experienced by coastal inhabitants for thousands of years. The simplicity always amazed me. Here was a man, a strip of sand, a plain of water, all under a dome of sky and caressed by the touch of wind and the sound of surf. Add the rising moon and expect the surreal. The experience was so powerful even when friends were along the conversations almost always stopped in homage when the first moon sliver rose out of the sea.

Lowcountry moonrise, McQueens Island, Savannah, Georgia, 1951

. . .Her eyes, he says, are stars at dusk,

Her mouth as sweet as red-rose-musk;

And when she dances his young heart swells

With flutes and viols and silver bells;

His brain is dizzy, his senses swim,

When she slants her ragtime eyes at him.

Moonlight shadows, he bids her see,

Move no more silently than she.

It was this way, he says, she came,

Into his cold heart, bearing flame.

And now that his heart is all on fire

Will she refuse his heart's desire? . . . .

Tonight when the harvest moon is climbing high, go outside. Take a friend or someone you love. Get lost in it.




Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
National Park Service, Fort Pulaski National Monument Handbook, 1954

Text:
intro quotation, William Blake, Songs of Innocence and Experience, originally published in 1789.
poem excerpt, Conrad Aiken, Turns and Movies: VI. Violet Moore and Bert Moore

Why Climate Change Is Way Beyond Fossil Fuel And Potentially Our Ability To Manage It

For the past two months or so some serious solar flares have washed our planet. The series of solar storms emitting these strong flares from the surface of the sun has rotated from view and no longer pose a threat to Earth. On the other hand as we approach 2025 and the peak of the current sunspot cycle we could soon be washed in an abundance of electromagnetic energy. Although a very, very minimal threat to life thanks to our ozone layer these storms could be a serious threat to a society that relies on electricity.

Solar flares are a frequent occurrence and scientists have measured their strength for a century. The last flare to seriously impact the world's electrical systems and components was in 1972. That event degraded satellite performance, blocked radio frequencies, disrupted electrical grids, produced high current surges in telephone lines, detonated magnetic sea mines, and produced auroras so bright they cast shadows. To say the least it was a dramatic happening.

In February 2022 Elon Musk's SpaceX program launched another series of Starlink telecommunications satellites. Before they could be moved to their final orbit the headwinds of a strong solar flare doomed them to a degrading orbit and an eventual fiery end in our atmosphere. It's only the latest consequence of our experience with solar winds.

On September 1-2, 1859, the high technology of the day had a similar experience that heliophyisicists call the Carrington Event. It was named after British astronomer Richard Carrington who with fellow astronomer Richard Hodgson first documented a solar flare in detail. We can only imagine the impact of that event given our reliance on electricity today. 

The Carrington Event literally "turned on the lights." Our friends at spaceweather.com wrote this about the event:

...a billion-ton coronal mass ejection (CME) slammed into Earth's magnetic field. Campers in the Rocky Mountains woke up in the middle of the night, thinking that the glow they saw was sunrise. No, it was the Northern Lights. People in Cuba read their morning paper by the red illumination of aurora borealis. Earth was peppered by particles so energetic, they altered the chemistry of polar ice.

 

Orange dots mark sighting of auroras on the morning of September 2, 1859

The geomagnetic storm that day was so powerful that telegraph keys sparked and caught fire. Even with power lost in the lines, the storm electrified them to the point that messages could still be sent. Given our dependence on technology today, such storms pose a significant threat. Here's more from NASA's Science News page:

...a huge solar flare on August 4, 1972, knocked out long-distance telephone communication across Illinois. That event, in fact, caused AT&T to redesign its power system for transatlantic cables. A similar flare on March 13, 1989, provoked geomagnetic storms that disrupted electric power transmission from the Hydro Québec generating station in Canada, blacking out most of the province and plunging 6 million people into darkness for 9 hours; aurora-induced power surges even melted power transformers in New Jersey. In December 2005, X-rays from another solar storm disrupted satellite-to-ground communications and Global Positioning System (GPS) navigation signals for about 10 minutes.

Read more about past CME events in this link on the spaceweather.com page.

There is one certainty and that is the more our knowledge expands the more we understand how little we really know. Perhaps it is time to pay as much attention to coronal mass ejections and solar flares as we do to climate change. Both could pose significant world-wide threats. Both deserve more study. 

And for the philosophers among us there's always the challenge of pondering what we don't know about what we don't know. 

Enough for now. I'll let you explore the very new issue of near earth objects (NEO) on you own for now and leave my comments for another day.