Witt’s End

It's Not About Stories People Tell, It's About …

There’s something about astro photography that’s frustrating—everything. Take last night for example. I had all good intentions for getting the Milky Way arched over a favorite tree in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park. I take lots of images of this tree, but never with the Milky Way in the shot. Last night sky conditions were about as good as it gets here in northeast Ohio. I’ll skip the part of the story where the three dudes approached me (at 10pm in total darkness), armed with a mirrorless point-and-shoot camera, saying they were heading back into the woods to get some pictures of owls. Could I give them some tips on how to do it? (These guys were straight out of the movie, Listers, cast.) I really didn’t want to disappoint them since they were all bigger than me. (In the background did I hear banjo music?) I gave them my top-10 astro photo tips for finding owls in the dark. Really?

So, trying not to laugh, I got them on their way and concentrated on the task at hand. My first target with the SeeStar scope was going nowhere so I switched over to the Pinwheel Galaxy, aka M 101. For whatever heavenly reason, the SeeStar was collecting more rejects than good images and I ended with 105 rejects and 102 keepers. Bundled up the images looks like this:

For the primary target, the Milky Way, I finished with more strangeness. I did not realize that as the night progressed and the sky darkened, the “light dome” of the city of Akron would ruin the shot. Grrrrr. This is what 19 images stacked up looks like. If you squint a little and look to the right of the tree, you can see something that resembles the Milky Way. That’s about as good as it gets in northeast Ohio.

{“SLSFrameType”:”Composite”,”Description”:”Made from 19 light frames. Algorithm: Max Horizon Accuracy”}

So, for the fun of it, and because I haven’t made any star trails lately, I pointed the camera south (you’re supposed to point the camera north, Clyde) and let it run off 306 images that I had to stack this morning. Yawnnnn.

And here’s yer bonus image of the night. Ever wonder what it looks like when a lightning bug lands in the middle of a 14mm lens—and blinks? Here it is:

Well, last night’s session from Clyde’s Observatory was a toss up. The trees put up a good fight, however, I persevered and salvaged one image, M8, aka, the Lagoon Nebula. Stunning, however, almost always too low in the sky for me to see. Last night, I made a guess, if I aimed between a couple trees, I might just get an image. For the most part I was right. Had to toss out about half of the 150 shots to great this stack. (Image made with SeeStar S30 scope, post processing in LightRoom Classic.)

M8 is a giant emission nebula, which means it is a star-forming cloud of interstellar gas. It’s 5200 light years from my driveway, but still visible, naked eye, on a really clear night. What’s really cool about this nebula is that it has its own star cluster (just left of center so it must be a Democrat) that gives off enormous amounts of ultraviolet radiation which ionizes the gas, causing it to shine. (This will no doubt be on the final, so pay attention.)

The target I was really after was the comet 10P/Tempel 2 which was close to Earth last night. The trees won that battle. It was really low in the sky, however, I thought, just maybe … The thing that really killed the shot was the damned street light at the end of my street. Had to shoot right into it. Even I know ya can’t do that. If the comet is still around tonight, weather permitting, I’ll give it another shot from a different location.

Stay tuned,

If you think all stars look alike (like skunks, for example), stay tuned. Speaking of skunks, last night’s encounter was a bit too close. I was working with one of my scopes, minding my own business, when Petunia, lady friend of Fred, walked within 12 inches of me, destined to get into the garage. Well, the profanity I used was not something you’d want your grandchildren (or Republicans) to hear. She looked at me and scampered back into the safety of Susan’s flower garden.

But let’s talk about stars—not just yet. The Crescent Nebula has just moved into my line of sight so I gave it a shot—not too accurately. It’s a great target that I’ll have to work on when conditions are better. Consider this a trailer (not to be confused with a preview). It’s an emission nebula, about 5,000 light years out, formed (primarily) by fast-moving solar wind colliding with slower moving wind ejected by the red giant star, Wolf-Rayet. The result of the collision is a shell and two shock waves—one moving out, the other moving in. Cool. (Pay attention ‘cause this will definitely be on the final exam.) (75 images stacked and processed in SeeStar 30)

My primary target, and the reason I hauled out the big scope last night, was to image the beautiful star, Albireo (in the constellation of Cygnus if you’re looking). It’s listed as a double star, but here’s a pro tip—it’s really a quadruple! Cool.  Albireo A (the gold one) is about 400 light years distant, as is Albireo B, the blue one. However, they are both binary systems, visually bound, not gravitationally bound. It takes about 120 years for the stars to orbit one another. Scientists are studying these stars and think that there might be three or four more stars involved that we just cannot see. For now, seeing this gold and azure combo shining out there (through a scope—not naked-eye visible from here) is a real treat. (11 images stacked, made with Celestron Evolution 8 and Nikon D850)

Those of us, of a certain age, can tell you exactly where we were on this day 57 years ago. Some were having babies, others worried about whether they were going to find a meaningful career. I asked my grandfather if, when he was growing up, did he think he’d ever see men walk on the moon. He turned and gave me that grandfatherly look and said, “I didn’t think I’d ever see men fly.” Oh, right.

So here’s that same moon from 57 years ago—well, not the photo. That’s from our hazy sky.

And if you need something to think about, I read this morning about a huge ring-shaped sunspot that popped up over night. It’s 100,000 kilometers across—big enough to swallow 7 planet Earths. Scientists think (science is not a liberal conspiracy, by the way) that this emerging active region has an unusually twisted magnetic field that could produce Earth-directed solar flares this week. Had to get out and take a picture this afternoon, just in case …

Last night was one of those nights when anyone with any sense was in some air-conditioned space, not outside doing astro photography. So, for those of us without any sense, me and one of my skunk friends, it was time to sweat the small stuff—like stars. Plus, there was that strange scratching sound coming from a nearby house that gave me a chill. Turned out to be a neighbor raking his drive. (Yeah, 10:30, 86 degrees and he’s raking who-knows-what off his drive.)
So, I’m approaching panic mode as I prepare for a couple big astronomy gigs coming up. I have to take advantage of any relatively clear night to experiment and get comfortable with some new gear. Two of last night’s experiments were near failures. I sensed that, so for kicks, before I wrapped things up, I decided to take a quick shot at one of the prettier nebulae out there, M27.
(Here comes the preview promised in the headline.) M27 is a planetary nebula, located 1,200 to 1,300 light years out there—give or take a few million miles. It’s called a “planetary” nebula, however, it has nothing to do with the planets. The name is an artifact of how these things looked to the ancients through their cheap-o low-powered telescopes back in the day—which was around 1700. In astro terms it’s a youngster, 3,000 to 4,000 years old. And the preview part is, it was created when an aging star (like our sun—we have something to look forward to in 5 billion years) ran out of fuel, and blasted off its outer layer into space. The star then collapsed into what’s known as a dense white dwarf. The expanding cloud of expelled gas and dust still glows due to ultraviolet radiation from that central white dwarf. Just look at the intricate knots of gas and dust! Exciting! And this baby is not small. In our galaxy it would cover the distance from the Sun to Pluto (about 3.7 billion miles).
I made this shot with the SeeStar S30 scope in about 25 minutes. In astro photography time that’s less than a blink. In Earth-bound time, it’s about as long as it takes my skunk friend to sniff around me, then cross the road.

Only got the camera out of the bag once during our recent trip to Canada. Too many other fun things going on, plus, it didn’t get really dark up there until about 11pm and by then we were done. And there was that night in that Irish pub, the Harp. This is all kind of nerdy so just enjoy the pix if you don’t care for all the trauma (and drama) of getting the shots.

This panorama was 7 camera positions, 3 shots per position. Shoulda shot another row at the bottom. Man, you really have to work fast doing this with sun sets. I’m going back to stars. Made with the new Nikkor 20mm, f1.8. great lens. Real sharp with limited distortion.

Four camera positions, 5 shots per position. However, I did get those two people in the left position. I could take them out but I left them for scale. Shoulda done another row for more sky.

Attempted verticalrama. One camera position, 6 layers. Needs a better subject, and a bunch of stars, but it was a good experiment.