For the last couple of months, Terry has been scouring the Internet in search of a female Rottweiler to rescue. He spends hours on the PetFinder web site. He has found several beautiful Rotties, but unfortunately they end up being two or three states away, and even then, when we call, they’ve already been adopted. We may even take a roadtrip one of these weekends to Omaha to a Rottweiler rescue organization up there.
Terry’s frustration with the search for a female Rottweiler has been first and foremost the poor quality of photographs taken of the adoptees. His second gripe is misclassification of dogs as Rottweilers. He has almost reached the point of purchasing a pure-bred female from a breeder.
I can understand how difficult it can be to capture a canine in a photo. Especially if they are young (puppyish and frisky) or even old (and tired and lazy and not wanting to be bothered). A Rottweiler looks best in profile, usually standing. This shows off the breed’s distinctive characteristics to best effect. Over the seven years we enjoyed with Roxy, I managed to capture her in profile numerous times.
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.
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:
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:
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.
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.
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.
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.
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).
For the third day in a row this week, I planned an evening excursion to photograph astronomical objects converging on the western horizon during twilight. The people living along First Street on the hill above Main Street in Lansing probably think I’m crazy, camping out on the sidewalk with either a telescope or a camera on a tripod for hours on end.
But of course, I got home around five thirty to a distraction, albeit a pleasant one. Rachelle had cooked dinner for Terry and I and invited Grandpa over. Tuesday was her last full day visiting us. She returns to North Texas today. She created a marinara sauce from scratch, prepared tri-colored rotini pasta, sauteed some kale and created a fresh green salad from baby spinach and baby romaine. I created some garlic cheese bread from a fresh loaf I baked on Sunday. We definitely got our quota of veggies yesterday!
After supper, my dad and I retired to the backyard with my camera and my telephoto lens. He had created a solar filter from the same film he used to create the larger filter for the telescope (used during Sunday’s solar eclipse observations). He attached it to the telephoto lens and I took a couple of shots of the sun before it sunk below my neighbor’s roof line.
We returned inside to find Terry napping (aka food coma) and Rachelle watching YouTube videos of her choir performance from last winter. I put the camera back in the bag and told everyone I was leaving to photograph the sunset, the crescent moon and Venus. Dad tagged along, since he had to head north to return home anyway.
I setup the tripod and camera near where I photographed the sunset Monday evening, moving a few feet further down the hill on the sidewalk to the south. I was looking for a less obstructed angle to the western horizon, trying to avoid some intervening trees. I took several shots as the sun set, but was really just killing time until Venus appeared, followed by the crescent moon.
The faintness of the crescent moon surprised me. I thought I would be able to see the moon before I could see Venus, but that was definitely not the case last night. The haze and wispy clouds made it difficult to discern the slim sliver of the moon, while Venus blazed like a pinprick laser, even before the sun set. As noted above, this is the last time the moon and Venus will pass this close to each other this year. And since in less than two weeks, Venus crosses the face of the sun, just as the Moon did two days ago, I declared a game of tag between the two of them. Venus is “It” for at least the next fortnight.
I packed up the photographic equipment and said goodnight to my dad. I returned home and immediately went to bed. I would download the photos from the SD card in the morning.
I only snoozed through one alarm this morning. I woke up Terry’s computer and downloaded the photos. I spent about thirty minutes sifting through the shots, discarding some really horrible overexposed yellow sunset chaff. I hand picked a dozen or so sunset and moon shots. I uploaded the first group and created a sunset album. I attempted to upload the second group of the Moon and Venus photos, but kept having errors. I tried and retried until I almost made myself late picking up my vanpool riders. I grabbed the SD card, stuffed it in my purse and ran out the door. I left the annoying home computer attempting to upload the photos while I commuted to work. I discovered some of the photos actually did upload, but not all of them. Enough of them, though, for me to get this blog post started and published. So, check back later today or tomorrow to see the rest of the photos (just click on the images above to see the rest of the photos in the albums).
I think I’m done with amateur astrophotography for the week. I need to get back to my walking regimen. I even forgot to put my pedometer on this morning, which I haven’t done in months. Apollo will miss Rachelle, so I need to distract him from moping around the house and return to our evening walks around Lansing.
Monday afternoon I returned home from work all psyched up and ready to catch a glimpse of the new moon, the baby one, the one that’s barely twenty-four hours old. I kept one eye on the sky all day, getting a bit perturbed at it’s pristine blueness compared to yesterday’s puffy whiteness competing with the solar eclipse. I muttered to myself on the drive home, but immediately became distracted when I pulled in the driveway to find my husband inserting a new headlamp light blub in the Bonneville. I asked him to replace it because I discovered on my midnight ride home from Powell Observatory Saturday that my left one had burnt out.
As I entered the garage, Terry stopped at the garage door and looked at me expectantly. I raised my left eyebrow in my classic Spock impersonation and gazed around trying to discern what I missed. My eyes fell on the area of the second garage bay where we store the lawnmower. I gasped in surprise as I spied a brand new shiny red pushmower.
Any thoughts of moon catching fled from my brain. The mower begged to be test driven (literally since it’s a self-propelled model). I spent a half hour acquainting myself with the mower in the backyard. Despire popping a couple of wheelies, I liked the way the new mower conquered the grass and the terrain.
My mind got back on track with my moon hunt as eight o’clock approached. I asked Rachelle if she wanted to accompany me to my observing site, ostensibly to get Apollo out of the house on a short walk as well. She agreed readily. I grabbed the camera gear and tripod and placed them in the trunk, while Rachelle let Apollo jump in the back seat of the Bonneville.
I remembered to check the time of sunset for Monday evening (8:30 p.m.) but forgot to confirm the time of moonset. I later learned (upon returning home to my laptop) that moonset occurred shortly after 9:20 p.m. Since I rushed my daughter out of the house, she left her smartphone there. She has a nifty app that functions as an interactive ‘live’ star atlas and would have helped me locate the baby moon playing peekaboo behind the clouds.
I setup the camera and tripod and took over seventy photos of the sunset and twilight in the vain hope that even if I couldn’t find the baby moon with my naked eye, I might capture it ‘on film’ and find it later when I download the photos from the camera. I stayed until nine o’clock, not knowing I still had twenty more minutes to try to find the moon, as the twilight faded away and Venus continued to brighten. My daughter convinced me the haze and few wispy clouds clinging to the western horizon obscured the moon, preventing me from seeing it’s slim sliver of a crescent.
I waited until Tuesday morning to download the photos and review them. Try as I might, I could not find the crescent moon. I even verified the location of the moon in relation to the sun and Venus for the time period I observed Monday evening. I still feel I should have been able to find it, but perhaps it was the haze, thin clouds and lingering twilight that thwarted my efforts.
I snagged a few (more than a few actually, but I won’t inundated you with them) photos of the sunset, which continued to glow bright pink, orange and purple thirty minutes after the sun dipped below the horizon.
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 Astronomical Society of Kansas City will open Powell Observatory in Louisburg. A map and directions are at http://askc.org/images/powell_map.jpg.
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.
Kansas Citizens for Science, with assistance from ASKC members, will host observing from the rooftop of Coach’s Bar & Grill, 9089 W. 135th, Overland Park.
I woke up Sunday to nearly complete overcast. In fact, I went to bed with the same sky, or so it seemed when I looked out my bedroom window. I should have returned to bed for more sleep, especially since I had my first night as a volunteer staff team member at a public night at Powell Observatory in Lousiberg, Kansas and didn’t get home until close to midnight. Even though the skies started clouding up before sunset Saturday, over sixty people stopped by in the vain hope of seeing Mars, Saturn or even some of the spring galaxies visible this time of year. We (meaning other members of the ASKC) entertained and educated them with a program on galaxies, featuring M31, commonly known as the Andromeda galaxy. We were able to lock up the observatory a bit early, but the hour long drive home still put me three hours past my normal bed time.
I wiled away Sunday reading sixteen chapters of Insurgent. My daughter spent the afternoon with friends and planned to attend the Tbones baseball game that evening. As the afternoon wore on, I could tell from my library window that the clouds drifted away and more blue began to dominate the sky. After six o’clock, I started transferring the telescope and photographic equipment to the vehicle for transport to the spot I had picked out to observe the solar eclipse.
I got to the site a bit after half past six and began setting up the scope. I called my dad and woke him up from his nap. He said he would be on his way in just a few minutes. I called him back and asked him to bring a level, since I had forgotten to grab one from the garage before I left home. Just as I had everything hooked up and ready to go, the sun slipped behind an extra large cloud and stayed there for several minutes. Since the solar filter only lets through one one-millionth of the light emitting from the sun, I couldn’t orient the scope until the cloud passed by.
Dad arrived before the sun peeked out again. Using the level he brought, we fine tuned the tripod for better tracking in a polar mount configuration for the telescope. I had barely enough time to take a few test photographs of the sun to attempt to get the focus dialed in as much as possible. Focusing the telescope with the Pentax attached to it can be very challenging. The telescope becomes a large telephoto lens for the camera, but the digital camera is completely unaware of the telescope because the camera normally talks to a ‘smart’ lens which feeds it information about light conditions and focus. The telescope is completely passive and completely manual (except for the tracking motors which slew during observations to keep the object centered in the eyepiece).
To focus the Meade ETX90, whether using the eyepiece or the camera, I need to turn a small knob on the back of the scope that adjusts the mirror inside the scope. The viewfinder of the camera gave me a live image of the sun about the size of a dime (or smaller). I tried using my naked eye and my reading glasses, but neither one would resolve the sunspots to a fine acuity. I had to hope I got the focus ‘close enough’ for the camera. I don’t know of a technique to correct focus after the fact with photo editing software, so if I didn’t get it as close as I could, I would be stuck with slightly blurry photos.
The eclipse began earlier than I thought it would, by about five minutes. I took several photographs over the next hour, as the sun (and moon) continued to sink through the clouds towards the western horizon. I had some problems with the wind and of course the clouds. With about ten minutes left before the sun (and moon) dipped below the horizon, I detached the camera from the telescope and instead took some photos of the stunning sunset occurring simultaneously with the solar eclipse.
Several people stopped by and asked about the eclipse. I could even show them some of the photos I’d taken using the preview feature and the view screen on the back of the Pentax. Here are a couple of crowd favorites among the shots I took:
I gained great experience during this solar eclipse. I feel more prepared and confident for the Transit of Venus, which happens in just two weeks from tomorrow! I’ll be in the same spot, clouds permitting. Otherwise, I may be forced to settle for a webcast of the event, because one way or another, I will witness it.
The sun rises early enough now that I can take a few minutes out of my morning routine to setup the tripod and camera to take some nice photos. I took all of these from my driveway while eating my cereal. Gorgeous morning! I had hoped to capture the tiny sliver of a crescent moon, but the pink, orange and gold clouds obscured it.
Tomorrow morning, I walk in the KC Heart Walk. Tomorrow evening, I have my first night as a team member at ASKC‘s Powell Observatory, with a topic of ‘Galaxies Galore’ to learn and observe. Sunday, I hope to get a chance to catch my breath, and maybe catch a movie.
Terry and I took advantage of exceptional late April weather to enjoy (and photograph) a gorgeous sunset:
And I took advantage of the new moon’s crescent being near the crescent of Venus to capture this series of photographs:
While you can’t tell it from the photo above, Venus is also a crescent, just like the New Moon. Terry and I both saw Venus easily a good fifteen or twenty minutes before the sun set.
Strange optical illusion shortly after the sun rose today. The sun appeared to float before the clouds on the eastern horizon (see photo above). This next photo has slightly better colors:
This will be my last post until after Easter (except for the already scheduled ‘Remembering Roxy’ post which will magically appear early Friday morning).
I will leave you with a prayer for today, Wednesday of Holy Week (Year B):
Creator of the universe,
you made the world in beauty,
and restore all things in glory
through the victory of Jesus Christ.
We pray that, wherever your image is still disfigured
by poverty, sickness, selfishness, war, and greed,
the new creation in Jesus Christ may appear
in justice, love, and peace,
to the glory of your name.
I enjoyed the commute to work this morning, thanks to a stunning sunrise that slowly swept across the entire dome of the cloud speckled sky. I did regret leaving my DSLR at home, so all the photos in the album below come courtesy of my cell phone’s camera:
Why can’t these types of sunrises (or sunsets) occur on weekends, when I have ample time, equipment and few distractions?