To be still and daydream

Down at Newgale today, Sunshine and blue sky therapy working well.

The waves gently break on the nearby shore; the air has a promise of colder days ahead. 

For now I sit and daydream.

No need for more words, this photos says it all.

Moon and Pleiades shake hands.

Recently I've been looking through some old phone pictures and found the following meeting from the first of April this year, between the Moon and the Pleiades.

Here's a picture I took off the event, with the old camera phone and the red Vixen refractor.

It goes to show, even the simplest of set ups can capture some useful astronomy images. 

Saying all that, I do have my eye on one of those SeeStar/Dwarf camera telescopes, they are definitely of interest.

Earlier this evening I met two local astronomers out and about imaging Comet Lemmon via a Dwarf telescope. 

The Dwarf returned a beautiful image of the comet. 

I may be an Old School Astronomer, but but I think I could be persuaded to make room for one of these handy portable imaging telescopes.

The lost words of the apparition of 2020

Last night I was searching and collating a stack of my old poems. 

In amongst the pile was an astronomy observation I made of the 2020/21 Apparition of Mars**.

I don't remember making this write up, but there it was, an A5 sheet all scribbles, both sides.

This morning I typed out the main body of the observation, and post it here for future reference. 

Also at that time I made a series of Mars sketches.

Finally  I can add my sketches to those lost words of the 2020 Apparition.

** The Astronomical Society of Edinburgh.

That's the way to draw it.

Long before the digital ccd and the film emulsion of photos past, there was pencil, ink and paper. 

Many of the lunar images I admire most fit the category of sketches or drawings.

There's something magical about being at a telescope, pencil and paper at the ready, teasing out lunar detail with eye and mind.

Then the hand converts those thoughts and findings into a working sketch.

Many a time I have looked to one of my old astronomy drawings and remember clearly the evening in question.

Here's a drawing by one of my favourite amateur astronomers, H.P Wilkins.

All the information you need is there, and beautifully drawn.

If Mr Wilkins was alive today, I bet he would remember that evening of September 21st 1939 clearly, as if it was yesterday. 

From am old astronomy memory.

Observing the sunspots in 1991.

Was it a hundred years ago, or just yesterday?  Seems like both.

This observing session is still vivid in my mind, it was a beautiful blue sky day. 

No fancy GOTO systems, just a simple Tasco telescope on a rickety alt/az mount, cheap eyepieces and scraps of paper. 

Love them or hate them, those wobbly old "department Store" refractors sure knew how to make memories.

Hiding from Amy, thinking of France.

We've been hiding in the bushes these past couple of days, away from storm Amy. 

No stars, no Moon, just several hours of armchair astronomy and a bit of photo editing of some 2024 France astro pics.

All of the above images were captured with my phone camera. 

On our next visit to France we will definitely be bringing a digital slr.

Our old Nikon D50 would do the job nicely for the shots I'm thinking of taking.

As storm Amy begins to fade, I see hints of blue appearing once again. 

Time to dust down the Vixen telescope.

Welcome to the night.

19h44m BST:

My inked words, on the page are barely visible, such is the twilight darkening fast. 

Each word now is a guess as I quickly write before the failing of the light.

The crescent Moon casts light across the bay, a glittering pathway, a road of Luna sparkle, safely walked only with imagination.

The bats fly by, hello - goodbye.

19h45m BST: 

No stars as yet, not a single solitary peep, I will have to take a closer look.

Sure enough, at 19h48m BST there was Arcturus, out to the west, hanging above St David's head.

On the beach before me a group of shadows shaped like sitting people -  Buddhas, pondering no doubt their own cosmic wonders, hopes, dreams and such.

19h51m BST: 

My words, finally succumb, I no longer see what I'm writing, but I carry on for a little while with guesswork and memory.

The sea waves sting the shoreline with a constant hiss from sand and brine.

My tea cup is empty, my mind is empty.

Welcome to the night.

The sheep talked much of the Moon.

Eight years ago this very evening we found ourselves at Mwnt church.

Just Helen and I and a collection of philosophical sheep. 

All was still, then up came the Moon.

The lunar rays were tinged orange, it shone a marvellous hint of warm fireside light across the white walls of little Mwnt church.

The sheep commented amongst themselves as to how pretty the night was, and how exceptionally beautiful was the Moonrise.

Over to the East, Mars was peeping out of nearby bushes.

It was a wonderful night for poets and dreamers.

Here's a small verse, and observation I made at the time,  from a recently refound journal:

Under the trees - Under the stars.

Last night we slept under a canopy of oak trees. 

Periodically acorns would fall from that canopy and crash loudly against the roof of our camping car.

It sounded as if someone was hurling ball bearings against the roof.

Surprisingly we managed to sleep well through the whole experience.

Outside the stars shone brightly.

To the North, all seven stars of the Little Bear stood out against a black 11.00pm sky. 

To the South Altair could be seen over the tops of some nearby trees.

In the near distance, two owls were talking about the weather.

It was a night to remember.

All was quiet, and astronomer still.

Mr Blue is back.

After four days of mist and rain, the Sun and Mr Blue sky return.

I love you Sun, I love you Mr Blue.

So amazing to wash my face with sunlight again. 

To bathe my feet in sunlit pools, and to revitalise my retinas with glaring photons, what a glorious pleasure.

Chanced a few solar pictures, this was the best of several shots taken.

Judging by what I can see today, from these active regions, it seems there is  plenty of solar activity still in this current cycle.

Thank you Sol, and Thank you Mr Blue.

Waiting for the rain.

If I listen carefully, I can just about hear the tiny tip tap of rain drops as they hit our camping car roof. 

Within the hour is forecast a down pour, though at this moment all is quiet and hushed .

A nearby vixen calls, the night is upon us, but sadly no stars.

Infact no stars for the last couple of nights, due to high winds and bullying clouds.

Autumn is here, and time and thoughts now turn to poetry.

This poem No: 494 was written last year whilst we were in France. 

It's also that time of year that the paintbrush and canvas usually grab me.

With poetry and painting to occupy the mind, I have plenty to keep me going whenever the clouds fill out the night.

Not long now and we will be heading off on a bit of a road trip, first stop will be a favourite... Brecon.

Amazing sunrises over this wonderful town, and some great dark skies.