I went to bed Sunday night lamenting the end of my longest vacation in over a decade. I double-checked and triple-checked my return-to-work checklist (security badge, laptop, cell phone, sunglasses, lunch bag, work clothes and shoes, etc.) before nodding off. I woke up fifteen minutes before my alarm went off at five o’clock. I jumped out of bed and had myself dressed and ready to go before half past five. I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss this morning’s Saturn-Venus photo opportunity.
I got everything, including the camera and tripod, packed into the back of the van and drove up the hill, squinting through the frosty windshield, to the library parking lot. I left the van running with the defroster on half-blast, but turned off the headlights. I setup the tripod and camera on the sidewalk, but quickly became concerned by the slight breeze from the north, which could (and did) jiggle the camera during the longer exposures necessitated by the pre-dawn darkness.
I changed lenses on the camera back to my normal lens and took a couple of wide angle shots to begin with:
I adjusted the brightness (something I rarely do since I don’t own Photoshop and need to learn how to use Gimp) to make the horizon a bit more visible.
Shortly after six o’clock, I observed Mercury and took a photo in portrait orientation (vertical) to include all three planets and the star Spica:
Because I needed to begin the commute to work at a quarter past six, I had to stop taking photos early. A good thing, too, since my batteries, which I had just put in before yesterday morning’s photo session, had already depleted due to the cold temperatures and long exposure times. I did take the time to switch back to my telephoto lens to zoom in on several of the prime targets.
I managed to snatch a closeup of Venus and Saturn and of Mercury and Alpha Librae before I packed up the equipment and left for work:
Saturn squeezing closer to Venus (click image for rest of album)Mercury just risen near Alpha Librae (adjusted brightness to improve visibility)
Tomorrow morning, weather permitting clear skies, I will attempt to capture Saturn as it slips past and above Venus.
I learned last night at the November general meeting of the Astronomical Society of Kansas City that we have just fifty days (forty-nine as I write this blog) until the end of a Mayan age (the 13th Bak’tun). More commonly known to us as the Winter Solstice on December 21, 2012 (12/21/12 or 21/12/12 depending on your longitude). I had a lot on my mind as I drifted off to sleep last night, but when I woke to clear skies and a newly risen Venus blinking at me through the bare branches of trees along my eastern horizon, I shook off the last vestiges of ancient doom and gloom and braved the brisk late fall pre-dawn environs with my tripod and camera.
Armed with new tips and techniques garnered from Tom Martinez’s astrophotography presentation during the club’s Astro 101 session, I attempted a long exposure (ten seconds long) of the Big Dipper using my normal lens:
I was gratified to discover that my camera can take even longer exposures without the necessity of a handheld remote. Not that I don’t plan to purchase a remote for it soon though.
I didn’t attempt to capture Canis Major or Orion in a long exposure since I would have been shooting west over the well-lit parking lot of City Hall. Instead, I turned my camera towards the southeast and bright shining Venus and the slightly dimmer Saturn.
Wide angle shot of Venus, Saturn and Mercury (click image for rest of album)
I knew Mercury had risen shortly after six o’clock, but I couldn’t see it clearly until about a quarter after.
Mercury & Alpha Librae in a four second long exposure.
Later, I accidentally captured not only Mercury, but a passing plane, as it took off from KCI (northeast of my location).
Passing Plane (the streak) approaching Mercury
When I got back to my laptop and downloaded the photos, I also double-checked and compared them to the alignment at the time they were taken using the Star Dome Plus java applet at Astronomy.com: A short successful photo shoot this morning. I didn’t hang around for the sunrise, since I judged it wouldn’t be as pretty as the one I captured Saturday morning.
Weather permitting, I’ll be repeating this activity for the next two or three mornings. I’m excited to see Venus and Saturn pass each other in the night (or very early morning).
And next week I’m going to wish I was visiting Egypt to witness a once in 2,737 years event involving these same three planets and the Great Pyramids at Giza.
The new moon occurs tomorrow just eight minute’s past four o’clock in the afternoon. I reviewed the sun rise and moon rise times for today, tomorrow and the next day as compared to the time the new moon happens. And, once again, the ‘holy grail’ of observing a moon less than one day from dying or one day new-born eludes me. Tomorrow morning, on the 13th of November, 2012, moon rise occurs at 6:41 a.m. Central, just twenty minutes before the sun rises. If that wasn’t ‘bad’ enough, I’ll be driving the van for the Tuesday commute to work at that time. My final rider pickup occurs at that time, so I may be able to take a couple of minutes with my binoculars to see if I can see the almost dead moon about eight hours before it is reborn as the new moon. I don’t have high hopes though, as twenty minutes before sun rise is quite bright and the eastern horizon will be hazy unless I’m extremely lucky. And the chance of catching any sign of the extremely young moon (less than an hour old by sun set tomorrow night) is even slimmer than the crescent moon would appear at that time.
Countertop & Backsplash Refinishing (click photo for rest of album)
I woke up knowing the temperatures had plummeted to the lower 20s overnight, leaving the sky crystal clear and killing the wind we’ve had for the past week. Since my kitchen is completely unusable for the next week or so, I decided to pack up the van for the Monday commute, start it up (since frost completely covered all the windows) and gather up my camera equipment for an pre-dawn frigid photo shoot of the nearly dead moon.
I drove the still cold and nearly empty van up the hill to the dead-end in front of City Hall. I left the van running to continue the process of thawing out the windows and doors while I took the tripod and camera a few feet back up the hill to the east side lawn of City Hall. I could barely see the new risen moon through the leafless trees lining the south and southeastern horizon. I found a spot where the moon just clear the tree limbs and setup the camera equipment. I took my first photo at 5:47 a.m., about nineteen minutes after the moon rose (at 5:28 a.m.). I tried various settings and exposures, while trying to keep my hands warm and not shake the camera too much. I took several unsatisfactory photos for about ten minutes and then returned to the van. I needed to fill up the gas tank and get something warm to drink before heading south to pickup my first setup of riders. My local rider had the day off because he’s a federal employee and today is the day set aside to observe and honor our veterans.
Illuminted 3% at 6:10 a.m. Central Mon 12 Nov 2012
After filling up the van, I drove back up the hill so I could cross Main Street using the light between City Hall and the Library and just happened to look east again. I noticed the colors caused by twilight and pulled into the Library’s parking lot for a second photo shoot. I quickly reset up the camera and took another ten minutes worth of photos before continuing on to Scooters for a warm mocha and a caramel apple scone.
Venus, Saturn, Spica and the Waning Moon
I downloaded the photos from the camera and reviewed them. I threw away most of the first photo shoot because I forget to set the two second delay timer and most of them were blurry. I logged into my Astronomy.com account and downloaded the sky dome for the east-southeastern horizon to confirm and label the objects photographed above.
I had completely forgotten that Saturn had finally come out from behind the sun to become visible once again in the early morning. In fact, Saturn rose just nine minutes after the moon did, although my camera did not capture it in my first photo shoot, probably because it was hiding behind some tree limbs.
I also photographed the Big Dipper, Orion, Canis Major and the Pleiades, but decided not to share the photos with anyone yet. Because I didn’t change from my telephoto lens to my normal one, I did not get all the stars in the handle of the Big Dipper nor did I capture all of the stars in Orion.
I’ll probably miss this weekend’s meteor shower, as I will be otherwise occupied during the day and not in a location that will provided dark enough skies to properly observe a shower. A solar eclipse occurs tomorrow, but only for those excessively lucky people who live in the South Pacific. For more of what’s up this week, visit Astronomy’s the Sky this Week website.
Despite a busy weekend of van maintenance (oil change/tire rotation), hair maintenance (shampoo, cut & style), yard maintenance (leaves, leaves and more leaves and now pine needles), home improvement projects (refinishing lower kitchen cabinets) and exercise (very long walk with Apollo), I squeezed in an hour of star gazing after a night out with Terry and friends at Jack Stack on the Plaza. I’ve been wanting to get the scope out for a couple of weeks now, but the evening skies have not cooperated, remaining hazy at best or completely cloud covered at their worst. Upon parking the car in the driveway Saturday night, I looked up and decided the skies looked good enough to attempt some star gazing. I didn’t even take my purse into the house. I drug the telescope out of the garage and began hunting down more targets on my Astro Quest observing award checklist.
I did make one trip inside to retrieve my binoculars, pocket star atlas, clipboard and checklist. I used Jupiter to re-align the finderscope and spent several minutes enjoying an interesting moon alignment (see image above).
Using binoculars, I easily found the Andromeda galaxy and the Double Cluster (between Perseus and Cassiopeia). I checked off two stars from my list, Algol in Perseus and Gamma Cassiopeiae. Since the constellation Pegasus was nearly directly overhead, I went hunting for the Triangulum galaxy, also known as M33. I could barely see the three stars in the constellation Triangulum, but no matter how hard I searched (with binoculars, not naked eye), I could not find this galaxy. I should have been able to trace a line from M31 through two stars in the constellation Andremeda (Mu and Beta Andromedae) to find M33, but I was defeated once again by urban (and prison) light pollution. I had hoped to stumble upon it with binoculars, especially since M31 was so easily visible and found (almost naked eye Saturday night, but not quite).
Cepheus constellation
I became more chilled as the evening wore on, neglecting to put on my sweater and just ignoring the 40 degree temperatures. The lack of wind helped shore up my illusion of warmth. I thought I’d try one last object before packing the scope up and returning it to the garage. I went hunting for the Garnet star in the constellation Cepheus. With my naked eyes, I could barely make out some of the stars that form the ‘house’ asterism. I knew the general area to look for Mu Cephei so I aimed my binoculars between the alpha and delta stars. Whoa! Way, way too many stars visible, thanks to the backdrop of our own Milky Way galaxy. Staring again with just my eyes, I squinted against the light pollution, but could still only see some of the anchor stars of Cepheus and no Milky Way stars.
I gave up, because I knew I would need to study several star atlases closely and device a star hop from Alpha Cephei to Mu Cephei, a trail I would need to memorize, so I wouldn’t have to take my reading glasses on and off while attempting to observe.
Pegasus constellation
Another star trail I need to work on is finding M15 in the constellation Pegasus. I really shouldn’t have had any trouble finding M15, since you can draw a nearly strait line from Theta Pegasi through Epsilon Pegasi to point to that globular cluster. Either my skies were not dark enough, or I kept misidentifying Enif (Epsilon Pegasi) in my binoculars.
My dad and I attended the general meeting of the Astronomical Society of Kansas City yesterday evening. We arrived earlier enough to also attend the Astro 101 class. The topic happened to be on binoculars, although I vaguely remembered it advertised as astrophotography. Next month, perhaps, provided the speaker doesn’t postpone for the third time this year. Nevertheless, we learned quite a bit about binoculars and the handout included a dozen or so winter observing targets.
With just five minutes to spare, Dad and I changed lecture halls in Royall Hall, walking across to the larger one where the general meetings are held. Jay Manifold and Rick Henderson made several announcements. Another club member, Bob Sandy, gave a brief ten to fifteen minutes demonstration of his equipment used to videotape the Transit of Venus, including the video from that event and also a separate one of the re-appearance of the asteroid Ceres from behind the Moon.
Jay introduced our guest speaker, Bruce Bradley Librarian for History of Science at the Linda Hall Library of Science, Engineering and Technology, who spoke about the library’s rare books on astronomy. The Linda Hall Library, located just two hundred yards west of Royall Hall, is the world’s foremost independent research library devoted to science, engineering and technology.
Title Page of Starry Messenger by Gallileo
The collection Mr. Bradley oversees is kept in the Helen Foresman Spencer Rare Book Room in the History of Science Center at the library which is open to the public Monday through Friday from 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. An appointment is not necessary for individual readers and visitors, but groups are advised to make an appointment in advance of a proposed visit.
In February of 2004, several ASKC members visited and marveled at these well preserved treasures:
The oldest book in the place printed by Nicolas Jenson in Venice in 1472, Pliny the Elder’s (23-79 AD) Naturalis Historiae Liber open to a section entitled”CAII PLYNII SECVNDI NATURALIS HISTORIAE LIBER X,” subtitled”De Natura auium Cap. i.” Beginning with a beautifully illuminated capital S in blue, red, green and gold, the colors appeared to have barely faded in 532 years.
Tycho Brahe’s Astronomiae Instauratae Progymnasmata from 1602 open to a star map showing the location of the supernova
of 1572 in Cassiopeia.
Galileo’s Dialogo, printed in Florence,”Per Gio: Batista Landini,” 1632., displaying a Copernican diagram of the Solar System showing orbits of the planets, the Moon and the four large moons of Jupiter that Galileo discovered.
A handwritten observational journal of William Herschel open to a section containing observations of Saturn with drawings, formulas and figures.
A very large format book with a full-color, two-page drawing of Tycho’s observatory, labeled Stellaeburgum (also called Uraniborg) as it appeared in 1558.
On of Galileo’s illustrations/engravings of the Moon
At the October general meeting, Mr. Bradley started with a history of the founding of the library. He then showed us many images taken of the rare books in the collection. He also related interesting and intriguing stories about the men who wrote these early science books. We even got a crash course in the Gutenberg printing process, right down to the materials used for the bindings, the paper and the ink. Mr. Bradley spent quite a bit of time paging through a couple of Galileo‘s books (see excerpt at right) and explaining the challenges Galileo and his printer faced in publishing his ground-breaking astronomical observations and conclusions confirming Copernicus‘ theory of a sun-centered universe (solar system).
He concluded his talk with a question and answer session and an invitation to the Library to see these treasures first hand. I plan to make a trip during lunch to the Linda Hall library’s current exhibit, called ‘On Time: The Question for Precision‘ featuring revolutions in time keeping within the next week or so.
The new Moon occurred at 7:02 a.m. Monday October 15, 2012. Since sunset on Monday occurred less than twelve hours after the new moon, I didn’t even bother searching the western horizon for an assuredly invisible sliver of the young moon. Besides, we were still finishing up the hanging of the new garage doors.
Tuesday evening, after a quick repast of leftover grilled chicken and some frozen veggies (reheated of course), I gathered up my camera equipment and my binoculars and went in search of a good observing site. I ended up just past the entrance to Mt. Muncie Cemetery, with a clear view of the horizon, overlooking the local Home Depot and the Hallmark plant.
The clouds became a concern, obscuring my early efforts to locate the slim sliver of the young waxing moon. I appreciate clouds for their sunset value (see photo and album below), but they just get in the way when I’m hunting the young moon or Mercury (which happened to be very close to the moon Tuesday evening). While I continued to take photos of the sunset, I used my binoculars to scan southwest and vertical along the ecliptic, hoping to catch a glimpse of the moon through the clouds. Ten minutes after sunset, I stumbled across the sliver in my binoculars, so beautiful and almost filling my field-of-view (if it had been a full moon). Stunning sliver, so slim and delicate, peeking through some dark purple blue clouds, took my breath away. This has to be the youngest thinnest moon I’ve observed yet.
First sighting of Waxing Crescent Moon: 7:51 p.m. Tuesday 16 Oct 2012
24 hrs + 12 hrs + 49 mins = 36 hrs 49 mins
Ten minutes later:
Meanwhile, just a bit to the right, a nice sunset continued:
Mid-October Sunset (click image for rest of album)
Last week I posted about counting stars, assuming I’d have ample opportunities to star gaze any evening, thanks to one of the worst droughts since the early 20th century. And that same evening, a week ago on Monday the 8th of October, I took my binoculars with me to the backyard at 8:30 p.m. and let my eyes adjust for night vision for fifteen or twenty minutes. A few wispy clouds striated the night sky and a high school football game just a block away to my northeast made for less than stellar seeing. I estimated I could see fourth magnitude stars in the constellation Cygnus, but knew I could see better if the conditions improved bit. I’ve seen more stars in that constellation from the exact same spot in the past, including last year’s star count. I decided not to report my findings on the 8th to the Great World Wide Star Count web site, opting to observe on a succeeding evening.
As the week wore on, I began to despair. Clouds rolled in on Tuesday or Wednesday and stubbornly blocked the sky, but didn’t drop much rain, until Sunday morning. I am overjoyed for the rain, but disappointed at the lost observing opportunities. Rain all day, but please dissipate when the sun sets.
My next opportunity to observe came Sunday evening, after a long day of hanging garage doors. We called it quits around 8:30 p.m. and sent my dad home to get some rest just after 9:00 p.m. I didn’t remember about the star count until Monday morning, when I stepped outside and saw Venus, Jupiter, Sirius, the Pleiades and Orion for the first time in a week. I went back in and got my binoculars for a quick fix of planet, star, open cluster and nebula observing before leaving on the morning work commute.
Monday evening, I got home to more progress on the garage doors and wispy clouds during sunset. Grrr. I took Apollo on a short walk after eight o’clock. During our walk, I kept trying to look up at Cygnus, but with it being directly overhead, I risked tripping over something if I tilted my head back far enough to observe. Once back home, I went right back outside and laid down on my patio. After fifteen minutes or so, I determined I could see fourth and possibly some fifth magnitude stars in the constellation.
I texted my husband, asking him to bring me my binoculars. I didn’t want to get up (still very sore from the garage door project and my strength training exercise class at work) and/or ruin my night vision. He graciously brought them to me, and I went looking for the double cluster in Perseus. I think I found it, but I couldn’t’ confirm it because my star atlas was locked in the backseat of the car on the other side of the house, where I’d left it after my final stint as a volunteer staff member at a Powell Observatory public night. Saturday night, the one where thunderstorms and lightning further discouraged star gazing.
Tonight, after raking the front lawn under the odious burr oak tree, I will try to catch the new moon just after sunset and then drive to northwest Leavenworth County to places I frequented in my youth. I will repeat the star count and compare notes, so to speak.
If you haven’t observed and reported your star count findings yet, you still have four days. The deadline is this Friday, October 19, 2012.
I missed the opportunity to count stars over the weekend. Clouds obscured the heavens Friday and Saturday night, but I had absolutely no excuse not to step outside Sunday evening and participate in the Great World Wide Star Count. Thank goodness that Sky & Telescope‘s Facebook feed reminded me with their article ‘A Star Count for Everyone‘ this morning.
I checked my local five day forecast and I should be able to find Cygnus and count stars tonight and Wednesday. Tuesday, Thursday and especially Friday are iffy. This year, I’m going to try to do it from a couple of different locations, not just my backyard (like I did last year).
Here’s all you need to know to participate:
All you’ll need are a clear evening sky sometime between October 5th and 19th, your own two eyes, and a set of simple star charts. First, download the handy five-page activity guide (available in 16 languages) and print the star charts. If you live in the Northern Hemisphere, you’ll be looking high up for the constellation Cygnus, and its Northern Cross asterism. If you’re south of the equator, the target area surrounds the Teapot in Sagittarius. Each of the seven maps shows stars down to a different magnitude limit, plus one for a cloudy sky.
Then, after stepping out under the early-evening sky and letting your eyes adjust to the darkness, match one of the charts to what you see overhead. Step back inside and report what you’ve found online. You’re done! (Unlike many contests, you can enter more than once! You might be surprised by how much the sky’s darkness can vary from night to night.)
I almost forgot to check the eastern horizon this morning. I hit the off button instead of the snooze button so I started awake around 5:30 a.m. in a near panic for oversleeping. As I rushed around the house getting ready for work, my brain finally dislodged this tidbit I had read via Astronomy.com sometime over the past weekend:
Wednesday, October 3
Venus dominates the morning sky all week after it rises around 3:30 a.m. local daylight time. It shines at magnitude –4.1, which makes it the brightest point of light in the sky, and climbs more than 25° above the eastern horizon an hour before sunrise. Be sure to watch for it this morning, however, because it passes just 7′ (one-quarter of the Full Moon’s diameter) south of Leo the Lion’s brightest star, Regulus. This is the closest any planet approaches a 1st-magnitude star during 2012. A telescope will show both objects in the same field of view. Look closely and you’ll see Venus’ 16″-diameter disk, which appears about 70 percent lit.
I had to re-attach the tripod mount to the bottom of the Pentax camera because I had used it the night before to try my new binoculars with the tripod mount attachment. The waning moon hung just over the roof of my house as I stood in the driveway setting up the tripod and camera. I could see bright Venus with my naked eye (of course, it’s the brightest thing in the sky besides the moon) but I wasn’t sure I could see Regulus without some optical aid.
I peered through the tiny viewfinder in the camera and could clearly see Regulus above Venus. I took several photos, only one of which I liked well enough to label, upload and use in this post (see above). Not many other stars are visible in the photo above, but here’s the sky chart for the eastern horizon from my location as of the date/time the photo was taken:
I did not drag either telescope out of the house and into the driveway. I didn’t have time to re-assembly Dob and the ETX-90 just takes too long to setup, align, configure, etc. I did use my new binoculars, without a tripod, and looked at Venus and Regulus, Sirius, Orion’s Sword, the Pleiades, Jupiter and its moons and our own satellite (although I saved it for last as I became blinded by its light with just a quick look).
Star gazing and planet seeking were not on my Friday night list of must do things. All I really wanted to do was relax after a long stressful work week. And for the most part I accomplished that goal. But I couldn’t resist the siren’s call of the seventh planet. I peeked out the back patio door after nine o’clock and noted the bright nearly quarter moon shining in the southwest. The skies were somewhat clear, not perfect, but better than last weekend by a long shot.
I went back inside and grabbed a folding table, my star charts, the binoculars and a portable battery that includes a bright red light I could set on the table to illuminate my maps. Oh, and my reading glasses so I could actually see said maps.
I took out my observing checklist that I prepared over a week ago for the dark of the moon weekend (the one where the skies remained hidden behind clouds). I had several stars I needed to locate. Using my Pocket Star Atlas and my binoculars, I got in the neighborhood, but the objects were too faint and my night sky not dark enough to find them. I decided to switch from stars to seeking the planet Uranus.
I looked east over the roof of my house. I could see the Great Square of Pegasus, but not a single star visible in the constellation Pisces. I needed to find those stars, or I would not be able to find Uranus. I also needed the stars to move westward a bit more to clear the roof and to get into the thinner atmosphere directly overhead.
I returned to the interior of the house, where Terry and I squeezed seven lemons and added some freshly made raspberry syrup to the blender to make some iced raspberry lemonade. Our initial taste testings resulted in a quite tart concoction, which we shelved it in the refrigerator to tackle again on Saturday.
I went back outside after ten o’clock and closely reviewed the special chart provided by Sky & Telescope via an article on one of their observing blogs entitled ‘Uranus and Neptune in 2012.’ I made sure to print that PDF (something I rarely do these days) and kept it close by both my binoculars and the telescope. Despite the fact that I could not see a single star in the constellation Pisces with my naked eyes, I forged ahead with my binoculars, star hopping my way to 44 Pisces and Uranus. For a good online article on how to use a star map at the telescope, check out this Sky & Telescope link.
Here’s a breakdown of the star hop that worked for me:
I followed these landmarks repeatedly with my binoculars. I got very good at this particular highway in the sky. Translating these landmarks, first to the finder scope and ultimately to the telescope’s eyepiece proved much harder. First, the field of view in the finder scope (9×50; 5 degree f.o.v.) appeared wider than my binoculars, which are 7×35.
According to the XT8’s Instruction Manual, both the finder scope and the view through the eyepiece of the telescope produce an image that is upside down. I guess I should be grateful that the eyepiece field of view is not also reversed, like it is in my ETX-90. My brain doesn’t have any trouble flipping what my retina receives around. I learned that trick years ago as a legal secretary, when I had to stand before my attorney’s desk and keep up with what he was discussing from the sheet of paper he was reading from in front of him. I can also flip things in a mirror with little difficulty. But doing both takes a bit more brain processing power.
When I looked through the finder scope at Alpha Pegasi, I had to keep reminding myself to go in the opposite direction I had with the binoculars. Even though the field of view in the finder scope seemed larger, my brain thought it was smaller (probably because I was only using half my eyesight). I finally got to my destination, 44 Piscium and, drum roll please, Uranus.
∞∞∞
After visiting the seventh planet for a few minutes, I moved on to fishing for the eighth and final planet. With Pluto’s demotion to a dwarf planet, and being a native Kansan, I plan to follow in the footsteps of Clyde Tombaugh and eventually discover Pluto for myself. But for the moment, I needed to fish for Neptune in the constellation Aquarius.
Start: Delta Capricorni1st hop2nd hop3rd hopFinish: 38 and 40 Aquarii
I found the stars near Neptune easily with my binoculars. And the short hops with the finder scope proved easier than finding 44 Pisces and Uranus. But try as I might, I could not discern which faint star might have a twinkleless blue tinge. I couldn’t confirm I found the eighth planet, so I won’t check it off my list. I did feel satisfied that I could at least get to the neighborhood repeatedly, without referring to the star charts as often.
Midnight crept up on me and I marveled at how the time slips away from me when I’m stargazing. I hoped all my practicing would come in handy Saturday night, when I planned to pack everything in the van and make the trip south to Powell Observatory for some serious observing.
