The Geminids – ND #6

Photo: Forbes.com

The Geminids

Oh, I’m so annoyed at myself. I meant to write to you last night about the Geminids. They’re the shooting stars (read meteor shower) – replete with the potential for “multicolored fireballs” – that are peaking tonight. Just after 2:00 a.m., there’s a great chance of witnessing 50-100 meteors streaking through the skies above per hour.

Imagine!

Technically, the Earth will continue to pass through the debris field that causes the Geminids through December 17th. So there’s still time for you to catch some oohs and aahs – although it will get progressively more difficult. First of all, with each passing night following tonight, we’re passing through less and less debris. Secondly, each night will be illuminated more by the waxing moon, which will be full on the 18th.

So tonight’s the best night for catching these chunks of space debris streaking across the sky.

History and Stuff

Last year the Geminids peaked on exactly the same dates (December 13-14). Sadly, clouds obstructed our enjoyment of the height of the spectacle last year, although I did manage to see three meteors a few days beforehand while trying to glimpse the aurora borealis.

Just a few days ago I wrote about Comet Leonard, and I reminded us all that meteors are caused by space dust or ice crystals splitting off from comets. What I didn’t know was that the Geminids are supposedly the greatest meteor showers because they streak across the sky in long, often colorful arcs. But the reason for the long arcs is because the debris soaring into our atmosphere are pieces of ‘3200 Phaethon’ – an asteroid as opposed to a comet. As a result, the little chunks are heavier and their density causes them to take longer to burn up, bringing them closer to Earth before they burn out completely. Their longer burn time increases the chances we’ll see them making their way across the heavens. Those others – the Delta AquariidsLeonids, Orionids, Perseids, Alpha Monocerotids, to name a few – often come and go so quickly, it’s easy to miss them. (Good grief. I never realized how many of these I’ve written about and hoped to glimpse!)

Aquariids 2019 – Photo: abc7.com

Tonight’s Prospects

Judging by the heaviness of my eyelids at the moment, I may not stay up until 2:00 a.m. tonight. But I’m definitely going to try to see at least a few before I go to bed. So once I hit ‘publish’ tonight, I’m outta here.

Full disclosure: I just took the pups outside for their ‘final watering’ for the evening. Wow, the moon is bright. And I think I glimpsed some haziness obscuring the stars, at least from this vantage point. My expectations have therefore diminished slightly – but I’m still going to hop in the car and drive to my favorite celestial viewing spot a mile or so away. One of these nights maybe I’ll get lucky and actually witness ’50-100’ meteors per hour. That would be quite a thrill for this inveterate meteor chaser.

(T+6)

Beam Us Up – Day 1062

Possible Mothership – Photo: L. Weikel

Beam Us Up

As I was driving home late this afternoon I couldn’t help but notice the massive cloud hovering menacingly above a local farm. I have to say, I was moved to pull over and take a photo because I wasn’t sure whether it was going to beam us up and speed away.

It seemed prudent to take a photo of the possible interloper, just in case anyone might want to track us down. Of course, that would mean I’d have to toss my iPhone out before being successfully transported into the spaceship so obviously ‘cloaked’ as a cloud. (And they think they can fool us… Lame.)

That’d be a toss ‘up,’ though. (Yeah, I know. Groan.) If I was beamed up into a spaceship, I can’t imagine chucking my phone out the car window hoping those ‘left behind’ might look at my photos for clues to where I’d been taken. Nah. I’m pretty confident I’d take my phone along. I’m always looking for photos that can spur a blog post. And being abducted could yield some pretty provocative fodder for future posts.

Regardless of your stance on the existence of extraterrestrials, you have to admit that is one weird looking cloud.

A Better Look at the Mothership – Photo: L. Weikel

Draconids

In yet another extraterrestrial vein, I’m frustrated that Karl and I wimped out on taking a walk this evening. Indeed, I’m even more annoyed now that I realize we missed a grand opportunity to see a meteor shower (the Draconids) that are unusual in that they’re best seen in the early evening.

How many times have a stayed up late to watch meteor showers? It has to be at least a dozen times over the years that I’ve been writing this 1111 Devotion. I’m surprised, too, that I’ve never realized that the Draconids are easiest to see in the northwest sky in the early evening.

Jupiter (not tonight) – Photo: L. Weikel

I’d even wandered around in my yard earlier, noticing the astonishingly bright countenance of Jupiter. I even commented to Karl how surprised I was at the clarity of the night sky. But alas, Jupiter was rising in the southeast. My attention was pointed at the exact opposite place in the sky than where we might’ve glimpsed a Draconid or two. Or 500. Oh – no – that may be more likely in 2025.

Maybe we’ll all get lucky and catch a few late-comers if we go outside tomorrow night and look toward the northwest. There’s a chance a few streaks may still fall our way.

I hope so. If you catch a falling star – make a wish.

(T-49)

Orionid Bummer – Day 709

Waxing Crescent Moon – 10/20/2020 – Photo: L. Weikel

Orionid Bummer

I admit it; I dropped the ball this year. Tonight, starting right about now (just before midnight – or perhaps closer to 1:00 a.m) and extending into the wee hours of the morning, the Earth will be traveling through the dirtiest part of the tail of Halley’s Comet. That means that the greatest display of meteors created thusly will be visible at that rather inconvenient time  – and if I’d been thinking ahead, I would’ve mentioned them last night. As it is, I’m stuck with writing about my Orionid Bummer.

I’ve written about these beauties before. The reason why they’re called ‘Orionids’ is because they appear to be originating in the night sky from the constellation Orion. But, of course, that’s just an illusion, as they are actually teeny tiny little bits of debris – some as small as a grain of sand – impacting our atmosphere at such great speed that they burn up in a dramatic flair that actually lingers a bit due to their distinctive composition. Indeed, it’s the lingering flourescent effects that make the Orionids distinctive from the usually more numerous Perseids, in August, and Geminids in December.

Early Heads Up

Indeed, just so I don’t drop the ball again two months from now, I want to urge you all to mark your calendars for December 13-14, 2020. This is when the Geminids will be at their peak this year. And because the peak of the Geminids, like tonight’s Orionids, will be cascading through the atmosphere very close to a new moon, then our view of them should be spectacular. Assuming there’s no cloud cover, of course.

But all is not lost. Technically, we’ll be traveling through Halley’s Comet’s detritus until November 7th. So while we may not be privy to 20 per hour, which is the upper end of the number of meteors usually spotted at the height of the Orionids, we may very well spot a couple good ones fairly easily over the next few nights. If we’re patient. And if the weather holds.

And I have to say, even the temperature outside is conducive to hanging out and staring at the cosmos for an hour or two. OK. I’ll admit it; there’s no way I’ll be spread out on the ground looking up for that long, even though that’s what’s recommended by the articles I’ve read.

The only way I would lay outside tonight after 1:00 a.m. and watch the sky for a couple of hours is if I were in a sleeping bag and intending to permit myself to fall asleep in the process.

Honestly, as I sit here writing about it, I feel sad that I’m not choosing to grab a sleeping bag and do just that. The simplicity and connection to the Earth that it promises seems like a great thing opportunity, especially in the midst of all the human-generated chaos swirling around us.

Pre-Orionid Sunset, 10/20/2020 – Photo: L. Weikel

Two Weeks From Tonight

Which reminds me. Two weeks from tonight, I doubt any of us will be thinking about laying outside and watching ‘shooting stars.’ I wonder what we’ll be experiencing.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been finding myself saturated with all of it. (Of course, I’m referring to politics and the crisis we’re facing as a country.) At this stage of the game, it’s essential for us to just stay the course and refrain from burning out. Do what we can in each moment and then consciously make an effort to slow ourselves down. After all, we don’t want to be like a piece of dust from Halley’s Comet, hitting the atmosphere at 148,000 miles an hour and flaring out.

We need to survive.

(T-402)