I need my head examined. Why else would I suddenly sit up in bed and immediately head to a window in the darkest hour of the night, just to see if an astronomical conjunction was visible yet? And that’s exactly what I did this morning, without the aid of an alarm clock. Some internal portion of my brain must be tapped into some universal system (let’s hope it’s not that Dark Energy that’s making the cosmological headlines lately), because I woke up at 3:55 a.m. earlier today, just so I could photograph two planets, a star and a crescent moon.
A quick peak out my second story east facing window showed something bright glittering through my large oak tree’s leaves. For a better look, I went out the front door and walked halfway down the driveway. Yep, I could clearly see the crescent moon, Jupiter above, and Venus below, as well as the star Aldebaran in the constellation Taurus (although that was the only star I could see in that constellation with my blurry bleary sleepy eyes).
Eastern Horizon for Lansing, Kansas at 4:10 a.m. 7/15/2012 (courtesy Astronomy Magazine’s Star Dome Plus subscriber only java web applet).
I went back inside and grabbed my camera gear and the keys to the van. I remembered my purse, since I planned to setup the tripod in the cul-de-sac in front of Lansing City Hall and the Police Department. I’ve been questioned more than once by the local ‘protect and serve’ brigade while attempting astrophotography on their front lawn.
I took a couple of shots with the normal lens, but quickly determined I really needed the telephoto. Once I switched the lenses, I could zoom in and capture just the four primary objects in one frame. I took a half dozen photos before returning the gear to the van. At least one police car did cruise by, but he probably didn’t see me ensconced in the dark dead end to his right as he turned left down the hill.
Once I got back home, I went back to bed. Five hours later, I woke up and thought to look at the photos I’d taken while half asleep. I settled on the second to last one I took. Here is that photo (twice … once without labels and once with):
I let Apollo out this morning and looked up (like I always do) and realized the sky was unusually clear, free of haze or clouds. I vaguely remembered reading an astronomy alert on Monday about Jupiter or Venus being less than ten degrees from a bright star (which one I couldn’t remember off the top fo my head). So, I left Apollo in the back yard and traversed the house to the front door on the east side. I stepped outside and had to walk down the steps to get out from under my large black oak tree, which blocks all of the eastern horizon when you look out the front door or windows of my house. Up and to the southeast I easily found the waning moon (see photo above). Turning back to the east, I found a very bright Venus and a somewhat less bright (but not by much) Jupiter directly above it. And just to the lower right of Venus, I could barely see a star twinkling.
I went back in the house and grabbed my camera. The tripod stayed locked in the trunk of the car. I just hoped I could keep steady enough to capture the ‘morning stars’ from the driveway. I took half a dozen shots of Jupiter and Venus and three or four of the waning moon. Then I went inside to review the results.
All but the last photo of Jupiter and Venus were blurry from not using a tripod. Only one photo of the moon, done with some manual fiddling with the shutter and aperture proved to be passably viewable.
I hopped on the Astronomy.com website to access their Star Dome Plus subscriber only star atlas Java application. I needed to determine the name of the star faintly sparkling next to bright Venus. I set the app to look at 45 degrees of the eastern horizon at the time I took the photo (5:35 a.m. Central) and discovered Aldebaran of the constellation Taurus to be the star near our sister planet. Here’s a screenshot of the eastern horizon courtesy of Star Dome Plus:
Eastern Horizon (Lansing, KS) Tues 10 July 2012 5:35 a.m. Central
I quickly edited my one good photo of the ‘morning stars’, rotating the orentation from landscape to portrait and adding some text labels to identify the objects observed. Here are both the unlabelled and labelled versions of that photo:
Venus, Jupiter and Aldebaran (pre-dawn Tuesday 10 July 2012)
I did remember to let Apollo back in from his morning soujourn through the backyard. He turned his nose up at his breakfast and climbed up on the couch for his morning nap.
Saturday evening I headed south to Louisburg to volunteer for my second scheduled night of the 2012 Powell Observatory public season. My dad decided to tag along, to enjoy the show and help keep me awake for the long drive home. We left Lansing about twenty minutes after five and my car’s external thermometer reported 106 to 107 degrees, which has been our afternoon average for about a week now, give or take two or three degrees either way. We stopped in Bonner Springs to grab a quick, cool sandwich from Subway and returned to the highway just shortly after six o’clock. I needed to be at Powell Observatory by seven o’clock to help prepare the facility for the weekly public program and observing night.
As we approached Louisburg from the north, I noticed a definite increase in the wind, so much so that my car was jostled several times. At the same time, I noticed a significant drop in the external temperature. By the time I exited US-69, the thermometer read 92 degrees, and was still falling. Except for early mornings the past couple of weeks, I had not seen or felt such low temperatures while the sun still shone. I pulled into the west observing field parking area and realized I was again the first person to arrive. Since the temperature had dropped, I turned off the car and opened all the windows. The breeze felt incredibly refreshing.
My team leader arrived within a few minutes and I received my Powell Observatory ‘Staff’ T-shirt, which I changed into as soon as the building was unlocked. I helped setup the class room for the program, ‘Sounds of Space.’ Another ASKC member arrived and setup his ten-inch Dobsonian for solar observing and I caught a glimpse of some great sunspots before our public guests began arriving. The clouds provided some dramatic solar observing situations.
Click image for more sunset photos from Powell Observatory
I repeated my role as gatekeeper and accepted donations from the public and queried them for their ZIP codes to record for future grant petitions. The first group of twenty-five guests began the ‘Sounds of Space’ program at 8:30 p.m., but I soon had at least that many waiting for the second showing. At one point as I sat waiting for more guests to arrive, what I thought was a stray dog wandered into the observing field, soon followed by three horses, two with riders and a third colt between them. They trotted across the field to the west, with the dog trailing after, riding off into the sunset … literally.
Constellation Scorpius
As the sky continued to darken, despite a few wispy clouds, we opened the dome so those waiting for the next program could observe Saturn and a globular cluster found in the constellation Scorpius. I didn’t get a chance to look at the cluster through the 30-inch scope, but I believe they looked at M4, which is near the bright star Antares.
We ended up having nearly ninety public guests Saturday evening and ran a third showing of our program. After the last two guests had left the dome a bit after eleven o’clock, I quickly snuck a peak at the Ring Nebula in the constellation Lyra, one of the Messier Objects I’ve been trying go get a glimpse of for quite some time. Lyra is also home to the very bright star Vega, one of the three stars that form the Summer Triangle.
As the final guests drove away, my team members and I began cleaning the building and storing chairs, tables and other items for the next Saturday. I signed myself out of the Observatory at 11:35 and gathered up my dad for the long drive home. He related information he’d gleaned from another team members about various types of Dobsonian telescopes and helped keep me alert as we sped north towards Leavenworth County.
Next week, we present a program on ‘Our Amazing Moon’ and the following week we’ll pose the question ‘Is There Life Out There?’ We look forward to showing you the astronomical sights (and sounds).
Every year I look forward to the summer solstice in June, not because I’m in love with the heat and humidity that pervades Kansas, but rather because it signals the beginning of the shorter days and longer nights. Until recently, my amateur astronomy goals didn’t include solar observing, but twice in the last month I’ve been drawn into observing a solar eclipse and the transit of Venus. I can safely say I’ve had my fill of the sun for the foreseeable future.
Diagram of the Earth’s seasons as seen from the north. Far left: summer solstice for the Northern Hemisphere. Front right: summer solstice for the Southern Hemisphere.
This evening at 6:09 p.m. CDT, less than an hour after I return home from work, the sun will reach the highest position in the sky, as seen from the Northern Hemisphere. Tomorrow, and each succeeding day thereafter, the sun will ‘fall’ ever so slowly back towards the south (most notable at dawn or dusk). Someday I hope to visit the far north, perhaps Canada or Alaska and experience the midnight sun, or rather a full day of sun, sans sunrise or sunset.
But for the next six months, I will take advantage of the lengthening nights to achieve some of my other astronomical observing goals, provided the clouds, humidity and winds cooperate.
In the short term, though, my yard and trees could really use some rain. You won’t catch me lighting a midsummer bonfire in my backyard tonight! Too much chance of everything, including the house, going up in flames.
Welcome to Summer!
Venus Transits the Midnight Sun ~ NASA’s Astronomy Picture of the Day (for June 20, 2012). Click image to enlarge.
I decided to take a day of vacation from work yesterday. Even though the Transit of Venus wouldn’t start until shortly after five o’clock in the afternoon, I didn’t want to miss any of it, especially the beginning. I wiled away the day reading, baking bread and making strawberry shortcake. I also tested the scope (but not the camera) around noon, getting a clear picture in my mind of the current configuration of our nearest stellar neighor.
As the clock approached four in the afternoon, I laid out all my equipment, sunscreen, sunglasses, umbrella and collapsable chair, making sure I had everything I would need for an observing session that would last several hours on a slightly warmer than normal and sunny June afternoon. My prayers had been answered in part, at least, for clear skies (releatively clear, except for some humidity, haziness and wispy stratus clouds). I proved to be my own worst enemy, though, because while washing my hair, I managed to get an entire palmful of shampoo in my right eye, which happens to be my ‘good’ eye – the one I use to focus and observe with. My eye watered for the rest of the day, but at least didn’t appear to have any problems focusing.
Observing Venus Transit from Lansing, Kansas
I packed everything in the car and had my husband drive me to my previously selected observing spot. It’s my new favorite location for observing and photographing day-time astronomical events that require an unobstructed view of the western horizon (and it’s close to home so I don’t spend time and gas money to get there). In the last few weeks from this spot, I’ve observed a solar eclipse, earthshine on the moon (with Venus nearby), a lunar eclipse and yesterday my first (and only) Venus transit. I unpacked the equipment, said goodbye to my husband (who would return later to catch a glimpse of the ‘black dot’ that would be Venus crossing the sun) and started setting up the scope. My dad joined me, sometime between 4:30 and 5:00 p.m., as he got tied up with rush hour traffic on US-73 southbound from north Leavenworth to south Lansing.
I had parked the scope when I used it around noon, leaving it in a polar mount configuration. I knew I wouldn’t be able to re-align it to Polaris when I transported it from my backyard to this other site, but I could get ‘in the ballpark’ enough to track the sun and take photographs. The most challenging aspect of taking photographs through the Meade ETX-90 with the Pentax K100D attached to it is focusing. The viewfinder on the camera presents a very small ‘live’ view of the object (in this case the filtered image of the sun). The sunspots, which appeared very large and distinct when observing through the telescopes eyepiece under magnification, were tiny pinpricks through the camera. Focusing became easier once the large black dot of Venus appeared, but before that, resolving the sunspots proved troublesome. With that in mind, here’s a photo from immediately prior to the transit of Venus commencing:
Sun immediately prior to Transit of Venus (5:04 pm Central) – click image to see the rest of the album (39 photos)
I choose this location also in the hopes that people would see me on the hill overlooking Main Street and stop by to have a look (or at least ask me what the heck I thought I was doing so I could then explain and convince them to take a look). Over the course of the next three hours, I had between fifteen and twenty people stop and take a look at the transit through my telescope. The first group to stop had seen me there before, back in May for the solar eclipse. I asked them to wait a couple of minutes because I was taking a serious of photographs to capture the first and second contacts of Venus:
Cropped series of photos taken of the first and second contacts of Venus (spanning time from 5:05 to 5:23 pm Central) – click image to see slideshow
One of the last group included an entire family who had seen me on their way to a baseball game (for their young son) and stopped on the way back after the game. They pursuaded their grandmother to leave the car and take a look. By that time though, the sun had entered some thicker clouds and was close to setting, so the light getting through the solar filter created a dim red hazy image, but Venus’ black sillouette was still clearly visible.
Sun setting, but the black dot of Venus clearly visible to my naked eye through the 200 mm telephoto lens of my camera
After the sun set, Dad and I packed up the equipment and said our goodbyes. We were both tired, from standing, sometimes bending over, occasionally sitting, but always baking in the late afternoon June sun. I went home, ate some leftovers, grabbed 140 photos off my cameras memory card and selected one or two to upload and share with friends and family. I didn’t have the energy last night to review so many photos. I called my daughter, who lives in Texas, to see if she had a chance to witness the transit. She reported she did, as her university setup several scopes near their Environment Sciences lab building and she got to see the sun through a hydrogen-alpha filter (which I am saving up for as they are not cheap). I also tuned in to NASA’s live feed both on my laptop and via DirecTV (channel 289) for a few minutes before succumbing to my need for sleep.
First thing this morning when I awoke, I began sifting through the photos and settled on thirty-nine good shots to upload and share. I discovered, though, that I have some debris on my camera mirror and will need to have it cleaned. See if you can find the debris that looks like a sunspot but travels around the surface of the sun (but not the frame of the picture).
Later this week, I will attempt to qualify for an observing certificate from NASA using the Paralax Activity Method #1 (I can’t do the other two because I only witnessed about half of the transit before the sun set). But first I’ll read and review the Mathematics of the Transit of Venus to make sure my aging brain remembers college math.
I am so glad I had the opportunity to witness the Transit of Venus. I sincerely hope you took advantage to sneak a peak. Only our grandkids (or great-grandkids) will see the next one, in 2117.
I set my alarm for 4:30 a.m. before I fell asleep Sunday night. The alarm woke me and I stumbled to the west facing window in my bedroom and couldn’t find the full moon. I assumed, blearily and incorrectly, that the moon must be hidden by clouds. I crossed over to my library and its east facing window and couldn’t see any stars (not unusual though that near to dawn and with the amount of light pollution I suffer from). I went back to bed.
My regular alarm woke me at 5:00 a.m. sharp like it always does. I checked my windows again, but this time my east facing window showed a mostly blue sky. That gave me a jolt, almost like a hot cup of coffe. I immediately began rushing around the house, throwing on clothes and grabbing my camera bag. I jumped in the car and drove to my closest vantage poitn with an adequate western horizon view. I could see the moon, already partially eclipsed, but obscured by some thin clouds and lots of haze.
Clouds obscured the moon (click on image for rest of album)
I wondered to myself why the moon seemed to be setting in the southwest. I stood in the same spot from where I watched and photographed the solar eclipse just two weeks before and at that time, both the moon and the sun set almost due west. I did spend some time today trying to find an explanation or graph or plot to explain to me visually why the moon’s orbit diverged so greatly over a half month. I’m still searching for a satsifactory answer.
Moon (far left) and camera (far right). Two weeks ago, the moon and sun set to the right of my camera (out of frame).
I settled in to a routine, snapping photos every few seconds or minutes, sometimes adjusting the shutter speed, or the aperture. I occassionally switched back to autonatic mode, letting the camera decide for itself what settings to use (usually producing photos I didn’t care for). By 5:30, the moon had almost set behind the hill to the southwest of my location.
Partial Lunar Eclipse as seen from Lansing, Kansas (click on image for rest of album)
I took a total of sixty photos, not including the one above taken with my call phone, so if you are a true glutton for punishment, click on the photos above to review the entire album. I didn’t have time this morning before leaving for work to review and filter out the obvious duds.
If I had realized the moon would set so early, I would have driven to a better site where I didn’t have a tall hill between me and the southwestern horizon. I mistakenly assumed the moon would set in the west and opted to use a location only a few blocks from my home.
Tomorrow, I will be at the same spot, but at a different time, to observe and photograph the Transit of Venus. You should be able to see me and my telescope from Main Street in Lansing during rush hour tomorrow afternoon. Stop by and have a look at a once-in-a-lifetime event. If you live in the Kansas City metro area, you have multiple locations from which to view the transit (click here for more information thanks to the Astronomincal Society of Kansas City).
John Reed leads a workshop on widefield astrophotography with a DSLR at MSRAL (Sun 03 Jun 2012)
After a handulf of hours sleeping, I drug myself out of bed early Sundy morning. Rather than eating breakfast, I composed my blog post recapping Saturday at the MSRAL convention. I published at ten after eight o’clock, leaving me less than an hour to drive to UMKC from Lansing. The last day of the convention consisted of a morning dedicated to three workshops. Not knowing what I might need, I packed up my laptop and my DSLR camera and zipped down I-70, arriving with about ten minutes to spare.
I burdened myself with my laptop bag, camera backpack, purse and water bottle and trudged up the stairs to the Student Union. I opted not to take the additional four flights of stairs on the interior of the building, taking full advantage of the elevator to the top floor. I planted myself on the first row (as I’ve done each day of the convention) so I wouldn’t have any trouble hearing or seeing (or taking photographs like the one above).
First Workshop: Widefield Astrophotography with a DSLR by John Reed
Very interesting workshop on using consumer camera equipment (a Canon DSLR and a 200 mm telephoto with an AstroTrac mount) and some post-production work with Photoshop for stunning astrophotography.
Second Workshop: Variable Star Research with Modern Amateur Equipment by Jim Roe
The middle workshop presented by Jim Roe dealt with variable stars and doing some hands on scientific observation and research. I got to know his old friend Z Umi (a variable star in the Little Dipper).
Third Workshop: Successful Web Cam Astronomy by David Kolb
David Kolb answering questions after his Successful Web Cam Astronomy workshop at MSRAL (Sun 03 Jun 2012)
The final workshop of the day got really hands on, for those who wanted to participate in the step-by-step process of massaging web cam videos taken of Saturn to produce a nice crisp stacked image. The entire presentation will be uploaded to David’s website (Sunflower Astronomy) in the near future.
Final Musings on the Convention
I learned so much and met some great people. I have many fascinating ideas and concepts revolving through my brain and many new projects I’m inspired to pursue. I look forward to attending similar conferences when they pass through the area again.
Beautiful, clear morning from atop the UMKC Student Union (looking northwest ~ June 2, 2012)
I survived the second day of the MSRAL convention. I think I overdosed on science, as my brain worked overtime while I slept to process the fascinating concepts, breakthroughs and forthcoming projects in astronomy and astrophysics I absorbed Saturday.
I arrived just in time to wait for the business meeting (scheduled for the eight o’clock hour) to run over into the first session. I strolled around the fourth floor of the UMKC Student Union, watching the venders setup their tables in the room adjacent to the main conference one. Several conference attendees also brought their solar telescopes and began setting them up on the rooftop deck of the building to facilitate solar observing throughout the entire day (and we had crystal clear skies for the duration).
Public investment in science led to a boom in our economy.
In the 20 year history of the Hubble Space Telescope (HST), more than ten thousand (10,000) scientific papers have been published.
Out of our huge $3.7 trillion federal budget, only 0.85 percent of it relates to science funding (NSF, NASA, DOE, etc.) or about $60 per year per family.
Is Science a Good Investment? It inspires dreams, drives innovation, new technologies (just a few of NASA’s 6,000 patents and 2,000 spinoff ventures: water filters, cordless tools, shoe insoles, memory foam, scratch resistant lenses, UV sunglasses, cell phone cameras), which lead to economic growth and we, the public, come to rely on the new technology (GPS, weather, communication satellites).
Local amateur astronomer discovers comet (skipped most of this session because I saw it at a club meeting in March).
I returned to the stairs leading from the third floor to the top floor of the Student Union for the group photo just before we broke for lunch. I ended up standing in the second row directly behind Fred Bruenjes (see local comet discoverer mentioned above).
Solar observing
Afternoon sessions:
Location of the Kepler Mission FOV on the Sky
Helioseismology leads to Asteroseismology via the Kepler satellite aka Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star: The End of Wondering in the Era of Asteroseismology. presented by Dr. Bruce Twarog. This session really stretched my flabby scientific brain muscles. The professor presented his topic with great enthusiasm. I took copious notes, because I knew I needed to research and review most of what he talked about. The first portion of his talk dealt with some history, including a crash course in Fourier transforms. Once we were all on the same page, he could talk about helioseismology. Finally, we connect the dots of how the data gathered by the Keppler Mission can build upon our discoveries in our own sun and apply them to other stars in a leading edge branch of astronomical research called asteroseismology.
Webcam Imaging by David Kolb: Interesting, but it seems like an awful lot of post-production work involving a myriad variety of software packages. I will learn more this morning during a workshop with this presenter.
Another interesting topic, where paleontology was used to find our Nemesis (or not), presented by Dr. Adrian Melott and I even found the publication from 2010: Nemesis Reconsidered
NASA’s Night Sky Network – There actually is an app for that (stargazing that is). All these tools, kits, videos and services provided free by NASA to astronomy clubs around the country.
Evening Keynote: LSST by Dr. Barbara Anthony-Twarog. Wow, just wow. This telescope, when it becomes operational (currently proposed completion and operational in 2022), will survey the sky like never before. All the data (15 terabytes per night) will be freely available to everyone (not just the US public, but the entire world). By the time it finishes its ten year run, there may be nothing left for traditional observers (both professional and amateur astronomers alike) to discover. The future of astronomical research will no longer rely on observations, but will need computer scientists and data miners to sift through the avalanche of data produced by the LSST.
I moved my vehicle from the parking lot next to the Student Union to the parking garage next to Royall Hall, parking on the fourth level to take the sky bridge across to the building and then a couple of flights of stairs up to the rooftop observatory. The nearly full moon shone exceptionally bright on a clear, calm evening. We trained the 16 inch telescope on it, at least until the sky darkened enough to move on to other targets. I snapped a quick photo with my cell phone of the bright moon through the eyepiece:
We moved on to Saturn and stayed there until I had to leave (around 10:30) because I had a forty minute drive home and had been up since five.
I saw my first iridium flare last night. What is an iridium streak, you ask? Check out the Heavens Above web page to find out and to search for a streaker in your neighborhood (sky that is).
I enjoyed my second day at the convention. I learned more than I can possibly absorb on just five hours of sleep. In just a few minutes, I return for the final half-day of workshops. I’ll post my final thoughts later this afternoon, perhaps after I’ve had a nap.
Since the late 80s, I have attended many conventions, all across the country. All of those conventions had one thing in common with the convention I’m attending this weekend in Kansas City: Science. Well, that’s not entirely true, those other conventions also included stars, but I’ll let that rest for a moment and wait for the shoe to drop.
Yep. I frequently attended science fiction conventions, mostly of the Star Trek flavor, but more recently of a more eclectic variety, culminating in a trip to Atlanta last fall to attend one of the largest in the country called Dragon*Con. I won’t be repeating the experience this fall. In fact, I could have attended the local science fiction convention, ConQuest, hosted annually over Memorial Day Weekend by the Kansas City Science Fiction and Fantasy Society. But none of the guests of honor intrigued me, so I decided to embark on a harder challenge.
The convention started Friday evening at six o’clock with the Star-B-Que, catered by Jack Stack, at Union Station, followed by a program at the Gottlieb Planetarium.
Friday, of course, was a work day for me. Normally, I can make it home to Lansing by 5:25 p.m., after dropping off all my vanpool riders. Fortunately, one of my riders left early for a weekend trip, and it just happened to be the person whose home is fifteen minutes off my direct route home. So, I managed to make it back to Lansing by 5:10, giving me enough time to change clothes, put some gas in the car, and fly back to midtown Kansas City. I made it to I-670 and within sight of my goal by five ’til six. Then all traffic became a parking lot and I began to panic. I exited I-670 midway across the bottoms and took a slight detour around Kemper Arena, approaching Union Station from the west-southwest. I could not believe the amount of traffic! Something was going on, because streets were barricaded and people were flocking to the midtown and/or Crown Center area in droves. I wanted to scream! I finally wound myself through the mess, using an old shortcut I knew from my days of working next to Union Station (in the Two Pershing Square building) and arrived only ten minutes late.
I picked up my registration packet and got in line for the barbecue. I sat at a table and met some new astronomers and reacquainted myself with some ASKC club members. Seven o’clock arrived quicker than I thought it would, and we all migrated to the planetarium for several very interesting programs presented by Jack Dunn of the Mueller Planetarium in Lincoln, Nebraska. He awed us with parts of several shows, including a moon tour via the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter, Jupiter via Science on a Sphere projection and a beautiful one created by Kagaya (a Japanese artist) called A Starry Tale. He closed the evening with a teaser trailer on the seventh planet, by popular request.
Cloudy Sunset from Union Station
Announcements and updates followed and the disappointing news that neither Powell nor the Warko observatories would be opened up this evening, thanks to the clouds (see photo of sunset from Union Station at the left). So, I found myself heading west towards the sunset and home much earlier than I anticipated.
Today will be full of sessions and workshops. I can’t decide whether to take my laptop with me or not, as suggested during the announcements last night. It’s heavy and bulky and I’d have to worry about it and lug it around with me all day. I think I’ll forgo the hassle and rely on pen and paper and my Nook Color tablet for notes and research.
My only disappointment today will be not entering in the astrophotagraphy contest. I did not review the MSRAL Convention website well enough in advance to obtain quality prints of a few of my best photos from the last few months. The photos I would have entered are shown below (click images for larger versions).
One week from this Tuesday, at exactly 5:09 p.m. Central, Venus will begin it’s transit across the sun. This is a once-in-a-lifetime observation opportunity and it is visible to nearly the entire world, so there really isn’t any excuse to miss it. I checked the ten day weather forecast and as of Sunday, May 27th, the predicted whether looks favorable for the Kansas City area.
I will have my telescope (with appropriate eye-saving solar filters applied) setup in Lansing, Kansas, probably by 4:00 pm on Tuesday, June 5th. Post a comment if you would like to join me.
Three other locations around the Kansas City area will be hosted by the ASKC (see bottom of post for more information).
Once in a great while, Venus can pass directly between the Sun and Earth. Only the planets Mercury and Venus can do this, since they are the only two planets closer to the Sun than Earth. When they do, they appear as small black dots crossing the face of the Sun over a period of several hours.
When is the transit of Venus?
From the Kansas City area, it will begin at 5:09 PM CDT on Tuesday, June 5th, and continue until sunset, which will be around 8:41 PM. Weather permitting, we will see 53% of the entire transit before sunset.
Why is the transit of Venus such a special event?
Because of the size and slightly different tilt of the orbits of Venus and Earth, a transit does not happen every time Venus passes between the Sun and Earth; it’s almost always “above” or “below” the Sun when it reaches what is called inferior conjunction. In a 243-year cycle, there are only 4 transits. They occur at very uneven intervals – the last one was in June of 2004, but the next one isn’t until December of 2117, 105 ½ years from now!
Historically, timings of transits of Venus were carried out in the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries to trigonometrically calculate the size of the orbit of Venus, which when applied to Kepler’s 3rd law of planetary motion, determined the absolute (rather than relative) size of every other orbit in the Solar System. This was actually the best way to measure distances in the Solar System until radar and space probes became available in the latter half of the 20th century.
How can I observe the transit of Venus?
You can make a pinhole projector with a couple of pieces of card stock or a small cardboard box; just poke a small hole in one of the pieces or one end of the box, and position it such that it casts a small image of the Sun on the other piece or the other end of the box.
It will be a lot easier to see, though, through a suitable filter, either with your unaided eye or binoculars or a telescope completely covered by a full-aperture filter. Safe filters are available at HMS Beagle, a science store at English Landing in Parkville.
Where will there be organized viewing of the transit of Venus?
There will be at least 3 organized events in the Kansas City area:
The ASKC will also open Warkoczewski Observatory at UMKC, on the roof of Royall Hall. Park on the 4th level of the parking structure on the southwest corner of 52nd & Rockhill and take the skywalk into Royall, then up 2 flights of stairs to the roof.
