I Spy the Night Sky

I stepped outside just before 9:00 pm to let the dogs out and shocked myself with the sight of actual stars, something I haven’t seen in weeks (it seems) with the unrelenting cloud cover, rain and thunderstorms plaguing the Heart of America this month.  I grabbed my camera and tripod and setup just east of my mailbox, hoping to capture photographic evidence of the overwhelming light pollution saturating my neighborhood.

Due North (from in front of my mailbox)
Bambi Court Due North (from in front of my mailbox)

Not only does everyone on my court leave every outside light on, they feel compelled to illuminate their driveways, fences, sidewalks, trees, boats, etc., etc.  The clouds in the above picture are actually illuminated by the glow from the Lansing Correctional Facility (just a half mile north of my neighborhood).

Turning around 180 degrees on the tripod, and flipping the camera 90 degrees to the horizontal, I snapped a shot of my new ‘bright night light’ recently installed at the corner of Bambi Court and Fawn Valley:

New 'Bright Night Light' (Installed at the corner of Fawn Valley & Bambi Court)
New 'Bright Night Light' (Installed at the corner of Fawn Valley & Bambi Court)

Again, the neighbors to my south, on the south side of Fawn Valley, seem to be in competition with the Bambi Court Extreme Illumination Foundation.

I could barely see the handle of the big dipper, so I thought I’d try experimenting with long exposures using the Pentax K100D.  There was no wind where I was standing, even though I could see the thin wispy clouds moving casually from west to east across the backdrop of the Big and Little Dippers.  I set the camera to Shutter Priority Mode and selected a six second exposure for a half dozen shots of the northwestern, north and northeastern skies.  The most dramatic shot, after autocorrecting with basic photo editing software (and I apologize for the greenness of the resulting photo), follows:

Bits of Ursa Minor and Draco (behind the clouds)
Bits of Ursa Minor and Draco (behind the clouds)

I packed up the camera and tripod and thought about heading to bed.  I tried to read more from the Backyard Astronomer’s Guide but gave up around ten o’clock.  I got up to let the dogs out one final time and, as I always do, I looked up when I stepped outside.  I always look up.  The clouds had cleared away more and I could clearly see the Big and Little Dippers from my back patio.  I grabbed the tripod and camera again for some more experimental shots using an exposure of fifteen seconds.  The following two photos show Ursa Minor and Major in one shot:

Ursa Minor and Major (Polaris is at 1 o'clock compared to the tree sillouette bottom center)
Ursa Minor and Major (Polaris is at 1 o'clock compared to the tree sillouette bottom center)
Ursa Major and Minor
Ursa Major and Minor

And there I will leave you to dream of the stars.

Good night and sleep tight!

My Pseudo-Google Alter-Ego

My husband and I trade salvos across the DMZ of household organization, not constantly, but consistently.  I am highly organized virtually, but lack motivation for the more tangible aspects on the home front (I’ll let you translate that however you want).  Terry is just highly organized (I will refrain from further labeling or categorizing in the interest of keeping the peace).

With the prospect of a mostly rainy three-day weekend to look forward to, I’ve decided to de-clutter the front closet.  Tonight, Terry and I will inventory all our winter coats and jackets, with an eye towards donating most of them to GoodWill Saturday morning.  I also plan to relocate all the orphaned games from when Rachelle and Derek were children, possibly storing them in the closets of their old bedrooms.  I can make better use of that shelf for storing kitchen-related items, since our house does not have a pantry (beyond a small cabinet-like area next to the refrigerator).   I envision reclaiming some of my counter space and pantry space by storing the crockpot, blender and other small appliances on the shelf in that closet.

Terry also suggested a couple of days ago that we finally work on Rachelle’s ‘green’ bedroom.  This is the room I hope to turn into an office/library/reading room.  Her ‘purple’ bedroom requires a lot more work, including purchasing a shredder to permanently deal with documents of a sensitive nature that we no longer need to store but can’t really just throw away intact.  Once we get that clutter dealt with, we can finish remodeling the room by installing the wood floor.  We removed the carpet for Rachelle in both rooms to help ease the symptoms of her asthma and allergies.

When I need to find something at home, I rely heavily on my photographic memory (not audio-graphic, just photographic … if I’ve seen it, I remember it) and my brain’s ability to find the memory with a speed that sometimes rivals an internet search engine (but is slowing as I age, sadly).  Terry … just calls me … or yells for me (if I’m within earshot).

While I can remember, almost with install recall, whatever I’ve seen, Terry amazes me with his ability to remember, replicate and improve what he hears.  He puts this ability to exceptional use as a rhythm guitarist (because he also possesses impeccable timing) for his band WolfGuard.  I hope he’ll get an opportunity to compose a few more originals soon as he’s also a gifted composer.   I’m looking forward to their next gig a week from Saturday and hoping they book a few more shows over the summer.

It’s a long-running joke between us that when I receive the phone call that begins with “I can’t find … ” from Terry, my first response is “And you stood in the middle of the room and couldn’t find it …” meaning if it didn’t jump up and bite him, he couldn’t find it.   This happened today, but only in reverse.  Terry couldn’t find his cell phone (therefore he couldn’t call me to ask where it was and I was too far away to hear him yell).  When he did find it, he called me to tell me he couldn’t find it from the middle of the room, but once he moved towards his favorite recliner, he spied it under something, where it had fallen on the floor beside said recliner.  Predictably, I laughed.  He ended the conversation abruptly, responding to an urgent call of nature, to which I replied, “Yes, please don’t stand in the middle of the room and do that.”