AMOs Part 2 – Day 375

Screenshot of my Sky Guide displaying Monoceros – Photo: L. Weikel

AMOs Part 2

You’ll recall from yesterday’s post that AMO stands for Alpha Monocerotid meteor shower, and the AMOs are scheduled to take place this evening.

Technically, the much vaunted burst of shooting stars in tonight’s sky is supposed to start just before midnight. But the wise ones are suggesting that we get ourselves outside, warmed up and our eyes adjusted to the light, by around 11:15 p.m. (eastern time).

The window in which the most meteors will be falling is predicted to be 15 to 20 minutes long, and take place sometime between approximately 11:15 and midnight. So it would seem best to get out there and simply wait. If we’re lucky, the clouds that were scudding across the sky about an hour ago will have dissipated.

Not Enough Heart

I feel as though my last few posts have been far too technical, emphasizing meteor showers and airport telephone charging kiosks, for instance, instead of the aspects of life that stir my soul.

Sometimes, though, the posts I end up writing are based on expediency. They may be keyed to the depth of my tiredness and ultimately simply reflect my commitment to fulfilling my 1111 Devotion and creating my daily Act of Power.

Lately I’ve been feeling as though my circadian rhythms still haven’t caught up to the fact that it’s getting dark really early. And all of a sudden, at just about 10:30, I hit an invisible force field that’s been causing me to fall asleep at my keyboard.

It’s been disconcerting.

Dragging Myself Outside

So here I am. It’s 11:12 p.m. and I am heading out to see if I can witness the AMOs. Karl is asleep on the couch. He’ll express regret that he didn’t come with me to see them (especially if I get outside and the night sky is clear and I manage to see them), but unlike me, he’ll be fine with having seen them vicariously.

While I won’t be able to take any photos, I will report on my experience before posting and going to sleep. I wonder how many of you will be out there at the same time, gazing upward and outward, trying to capture some wonder.

A Bust (Sigh)

Well, I drove myself to a place close by where we often go to experience an expansive vista for celestial events. This evening, perhaps in punishment for my rant against light pollution, there was just enough of a very high level cloud cover to capture an irritating abundance of reflected light, most obviously from the Doylestown area. Indeed, the light was so noticeable that I was actually able to capture it with my iPhone.

Reflected Light Pollution – Photo: L. Weikel

Indeed, everywhere I looked, circling 360 degrees as I stood in the middle of the remote country road, the orangey-yellow glow of artificial light on the ground illuminated the high clouds.

The biggest disappointment, though, was when I checked my Sky Guide App and saw that the Monoceros (from which direction the Alpha Monocerotids emanate) appears to be visible near the Milky Way (which was not discernible at all), and I also should have been able to see the constellation of Orion.

Alas, no dice. It was only when I fully comprehended that the vast, seemingly clear night sky was not even yielding the usual stars and constellations that I realized the high, thin cloud cover was, indeed, filtering out any chance of a ‘cluster’ experience.

One Little Piece of Magic

Even though the short road trip was to no avail meteor shower-wise, I did end up switching my radio from the news program Karl had tuned it to while I was away back to my iPod. I was surprised (but not) and had to smile when the iPod came on at the very beginning of Elton John’s Rocket Man.

What a perfect accompaniment. Turns out I wasn’t alone as I sought to catch a glimpse of this special celestial event. If nothing else, that sense of presence was enough to make the excursion well worth my while, and – if I’m honest? It feels a bit more significant than just a ‘little’ piece of magic.

Thanks, Karl.

(T-736)

Alpha Monocerotids – Day 374

 

Alpha Monocerotids

As promised in my slightly cranky post following the underwhelming Leonid meteor showers this past weekend, we have yet another opportunity to connect with the magic of the cosmos this week.

We can only hope that where each of us lives the cloud cover will part and the Alpha Moncerotids (hereinafter called the AMOs) will be easily seen.

Burst of Activity

The coolest part of the AMO meteor shower is that it occurs in a burst that usually lasts between 30-60 minutes total. This differs significantly from most other meteor showers, which can extend for several hours. Even more exciting to anticipate is that the AMOs are expected to generate approximately 400 meteors per hour during the burst of activity.

As you can read in more detail in the articles I’ve linked here and above (and other articles, should you choose to research the phenomenon further), people on the East Coast of the U.S. should check start checking the sky about half an hour to an hour ahead of when the ‘burst’ is expected to begin.

Acclimate Your Eyes

Obviously, ‘arrival time’ could vary slightly from the prediction, but it’s also smart to allow your eyes to get used to the night sky ahead of time. Thus, if it’s mild enough outside, or if you have some good blankets to wrap up in, you might want to get yourself to your favorite viewing spot at around 11:20 p.m.

The actual ‘burst’ is supposed to begin at approximately 11:50 p.m. Making it worth your while to hang around and maybe find a dark (i.e. non light polluted) place where you can point your nose toward the eastern horizon is the fact that so many are supposed to be visible in such a compact period of time.

Hopefully we’ll see something!

(T-737)