John Burridge

The weather has been a rollercoaster this last week.  Earlier, we spent an enjoyable weekend basking in the sunny 50F weather; this last few days we've had snow and this morning it's 22F outside.  I'm not sure what the hummingbirds think about all of this as ruddy sunlight creeps into our backyard and I imagine they're in a torpor right now.  

Weird and vaguely erotic dreams this morning led to a Reed Dream.  There was a sequence in a dorm or similar student housing.  I was changing clothes?  and noticed that water from the leaking roof had made bulging trails behind the ceiling's and wall's paint/plaster.  At one point during the dream, I commented on the oddness of being a practically sixty-year-old college student, but this did not result in the dream becoming lucid, and instead there was a muddled moment wondering how I was paying for my housing if I wasn't exactly enrolled in classes.  

There's a break in my recall.  I was in a large, dark, brick hall, it may have been a library.  At one point there was a Christmas tree in the middle of the room.  Along one wall were a series of arches, stairs, and balconies.  I had an iPad, which I had been using to write.  A renaissance ensemble was singing a Mysterium (I forget the name of the piece, except that it has a boy soprano part that sometimes is sung with helium).  They were singing it straight, and a woman in a blue period dress was singing the super-high part. She was having a theatrical interaction with one or two male choir members, and I'm not recalling the plot.  

During all of this I was going to RollerBlade.  A middle-aged collegiate woman advised me I should put away my iPad, as there had been a rash of iPad thefts.  As I was putting the iPad into my canvas bag, it slipped out, dropped about two feet onto the brick/concrete floor, and cracked.  At first I thought it was just the safety case around the iPad, but it was the glass front, which fractured and offered sharp edges to my fingers.  I put the iPad back into my bag and started to strap on my RollerBlades.  Now that I'm thinking about it, these were my original black-and-neon-yellow RollerBlades.  I had difficulty getting the bindings snapped in place, as they kept crossing and doing phyics defying things only possible in a dream muddle.  I never managed to get both RollerBlades on, and only imagined gliding around the Christmas tree to the sounds of a celestial choir.

On the sky front, we had a break in the clouds and I managed to snap some photos of the Moon and Jupiter (and its moons), as well a Venus

Tuesday night, after a rainy and grey afternoon, the clouds broke up enough so I could see the one-day-old Grand Conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn.  They were already moving apart, and if I'd really really wanted to see the conjunction on Monday night, I would have hopped into the car and gone some place like Crater Lake.   Tuesday night was clear enough to also show the Half Moon inching closer to Mars near the meridian.  

Around five, I set up the tripod and camera across the street and snapped a few photographs.  Since it was shining on our rooftop anyway, with a little repositioning I was able to compose a shot of our Holiday Star and the planets.  Spencer's Humans were coming out of their house, and I called them over to see the conjunction and briefly commiserate about Monday's cloud cover.  

Later Mark and I went walking a little after six to the top of the hill and managed to catch the pair before they sunk behind the south hills (and it turned out there were some clouds coming in from the west).  Saturn was very clearly a dimmer companion to Jupiter, and we wondered how someone might confuse it with The Star of the East without throwing Venus into the mix.  

We found a spot on the hill near the place where I photographed comet NEOWISE last Summer (which seems like an eon ago) and gazed at the conjunction.  Mark seemed surprised that a planetary viewing could lead to smooching; I think he suspected supposed astrological romantic influence.  "They're just rocks, and they're actually really far apart," he said before I kissed him again.

We were lucky enough with the weather that around 4:30 or so, it looked like there would be a break in the clouds.  I didn't think it would happen; last night it rained so hard that water seeped under our back garage door, and although this morning I could see Venus, by mid-morning it was back to felt grey skies spitting rain down on us. 

However, when I glanced out the back window around four, I caught sight of the sickle moon and readied my tripod and camera.  Thick strands of cloud stretched from the west as they passed overhead.  When I went out a little before five, I could only see the moon (and the rose-tinted clouds).

I set the tripod up at the entrance to our driveway and took a few shots of the solitary moon.  Shortly, Jupiter blazed out from behind the clouds; Saturn was still hidden.  I took a few more photos, and realized that I needed to move across the street.  I was slightly disappointed that the night before hadn't cleared up, because the Moon would have been about half the distance it currently was from the planetary pair... but, a thirteen degree separation between a crescent moon and the two wouldn't be impossible to work with.

When Mark and The Child came out of the house a few moments later to retrieve the dog from doggy-daycare, there was a little grumbling that it was dark and hard to see the porch steps (I had turned off the porch light and unplugged the decorations).  

"I'll be done and turn the lights back on soon," I said.

"Ha!" Mark said.  They drove off.

By now the clouds appeared to be thinning.  I fiddled around with f-stops and exposure times (always bracket your shots).  When clouds veiled the planets, I took some artistic shots of the moon.  Before I knew it, the sky had cleared considerably, and I was able to get some clear shots of the three luminaries.

I used the camera's extreme zoom capabilities to frame just Saturn and Jupiter.  The lens is strong enough to show Jupiter's Galilean moons, but not strong enough to resolve Saturn's rings -- so Saturn looks like an almond.  I didn't realize it at the time, but I zoomed in just as one of the Galilean moons was coming out from behind Jupiter, and as I reviewed photos later, I saw it draw farther away.  

Mark, The Child, and Aoife came back.  (And the lights were still off.)  Aoife thought I was a Monster (or something) and barked like she was going to eat me when she first saw me.  Then when I spoke, after which she pulled and yammered until Mark brought her over.  

"Oh my God," Mark said.  "Why are you in the street?  You're in [the neighbor]'s parking space.  I thought you were on the sidewalk.  No one can see you, you know." 

"The view's better from here," I said.  

Mark turned to The Child, "Artists!  They don't think about safety. This is why so many people got hurt making Spider-Man, the Musical." They retreated to the house for dog-feeding.

I snapped a few more photos, then stopped to appreciate the display.  

Fingers crossed Jupiter and Saturn will be visible the night of the 21st. 

Saturn and Jupiter are drawing close together.  They're eleven days out from their Grand Conjunction.  I figured I should start photographing them now, as the cloud cover makes astrophotography at this time of year a crap shoot.  Actually, the more I think about it, it seems axiomatic that if it is the Winter Solstice, it's going to be pouring buckets... which... actually, thinking about it more, given the number of Winter Solstices where I've celebrated by candlelight from fire ignited by the Solstice Sun, maybe it pours buckets less than I think.

 I'm looking forward to next week, when the crescent moon will swing by Saturn and Jupiter.  

 

In less than a month, I'm hoping to get some good photos of Jupiter, Saturn, and the Moon.  On December 16, a two-day old Moon will be in the vicinity of Jupiter and Saturn; sunset's at 4:28, twilight at 6:16, and moonset at 6:40 and (I'm guessing) Jupiter and Saturn set around 7:15 -- so I'll have to climb up the hill if I want a good shot (assuming it isn't raining).  On the Solstice, December 21, about 2 AM, Jupiter and Saturn will be about a tenth of a degree apart from each other.

With any luck, sky will be cloud free.  That's a tall order, as there is usually a winter storm in late December.  Fingers crossed.

One difficulty with photographing the Moon with other objects is that the Moon, once it's more than half full, can easily wash out fainter objects like Saturn or Mars.  Another difficulty is that if the Moon is much farther away than a stretched and held out hand (about eight degrees) from a planet, the resulting field of the photograph makes the moon look like a very small (but bright) object in a mostly dark field.

 I suppose photographing the Moon has become my lunar ritual.  By recording the Moon's image over the year, I've become more aware of the  its dance along the ecliptic:  this full moon is near Orion, last month it was near Aldebaran; that crescent is near Regulus.  And images taken over several nights has made me aware of certain craters and other features of jagged light.

This begs the question, where among the ritual tools of lamp and chalice, blade and wand, of thurible and pentacle, does one place one's camera? 

This morning at 5:20 I managed to pull myself out of bed and photograph the morning sky.  The Moon, Mars, Saturn and Jupiter were lined up east to west.  At first I wasn't going to.  I really would have preferred to photograph the morning before, when the moon would have been about thirteen degrees to the west, underneath Saturn, and I could have composed a picture about a quarter of the size (and with greater resolution).  And I would have, if yesterday morning hadn't been completely overcast (the day before had been clear!).  But, this morning, the planets shone bright.

I trooped out in my slippers and PJ's and set up the tripod on the other side of the street.  I supposed I must look like Arthur Dent, the kids from Narnia, or possibly an absent-minded professor.    Smokey and Cicero joined me -- between the advent of the dog and the clear weather, they've been spending a lot of time out of the house.  I think they weren't expecting food.

Yesterday I did some marketing and got discouraged over one very short story that hasn't found a home; it's been through the usual professional markets, none of the semi-pro markets seem right for it (wrong theme or they only want reprints or they're closed), and I found myself thinking about self-publishing it..... and on one hand it seems like a cop-out, and on the other hand I'd have to call myself "Fit-Of-Pique Publishing," and on another hand do I really want to put stories out there that might not have been picked up for a reason (although I suppose I could call myself "Glowing Rejection Press")?

On the gym front, I did my power-walk Wednesday evening...and I'm wondering if I might try the jogging path again to see if my knee joints have beefed up enough to not bother me jogging.  The power-walks are fun and all, but I feel like I'm not getting enough of a workout.

Sheltering in place is going well all things considered, but it is wearing on my nerves.  We're very lucky: no one in the house is sick, we are able to work remotely, on nice days we can escape to the backyard, and so far our immediate families are healthy.   Occasionally the cabin fever does strike me and I have to resist the shriek trying to climb up my throat and the urge to run berserk into the street.  As soon as it's safe to do so -- which probably means next October -- I want to dance in a drum circle or go clubbing or something.

 I've had the conjunction of the Moon, Mars, and Jupiter on my calendar for about a month.  I suppose I should add Saturn and Mercury to the list of planets, because all four of them are in the eastern sky before dawn.

The moon was scheduled to approach them starting Tuesday, March 17, and swing under or through Jupiter and Mars on the 18th.  I was amused, because right now, any time the Moon is just about to set, it's in the Seventh House and we can all channel our inner Fifth Dimension and start singing "Aquarius."

Tuesday morning was cold and clear.

And the Moon was farther away from Jupiter and Mars than I realized.  This makes it difficult to compose a nice looking photo:  in order for the planets to show up, one has to increase the time the camera shutter is open, which means the Moon washes everything out and/or becomes a brilliant and featureless object.

Also the ecliptic is pretty close to 45 degrees this time of year--as opposed to 68 degrees three months ago at the Winter Solstice--which means I have to go across the street to photograph solar system objects so that I'm not taking artsy photos of my neighbor's rooflines (I still have to deal with utility lines).  

I took a bunch of blurry shots, about eight passible ones, and vowed that I would take more photos on Wednesday (3/18), when the Moon and the planets would be closer to each other and in a more managable field of view.

Of course, that night the clouds rolled in.  I woke up early to a patchwork sky.  It seemed like the clouds were teasing me with a peep show of pre-dawn luminaries.  But I got the camera and tripod ready and checked the skies between brewing tea and eating breakfast, and about an hour later, there were enough rents in the clouds to warrant traipsing across the street and seeing what I could see.

Focusing through the clouds was a little tricky, but I figured I was doing well when I was able to resolve the Galilean moons from Jupiter.  I think the clouds helped some, because they toned down the glare of the moon; also the limb of the moon was thinner than it had been the day before.

I like the color on Wednesday's photos, and I like the features of the Moon on Tuesday's photos.

 Wednesday (2/19)morning, I tried to take some photos of the Moon as it swung by Jupiter.  Luckily, I didn't have to get up at 4:30 to take pictures.

 I think the cold must be affecting the camera, or else I'm doing something fundamentally wrong when I focus the scene:  a majority of the shots came out blurry (I'm wondering if some combination of my progressive lens glasses and my far-sightedness is coming into play).  Another possibility is that the sky has been turbulent, resulting in wavering images.

In any case, many of the photos came out blurry or slightly out of focus.  The best photos are the "arty" ones with utility lines dividing the sky into sections.

Because it's been kind of nippy out, and because the moon is so low in the sky, I've been throwing my old Black And Purple Cloak on and scampering across the street to photograph the moon over our house.   I'm hoping that one neighbor in particular, who can be very timid, did not happen to be awake and looking out of her kitchen window.  I can imagine her calling 911 to report a Satanist (me, in a cloak) performing some kind of lunar ritual (or something) in the street with a strange device (my camera tripod).

This morning (and yesterday when the Moon was right next to Mars) string of the planets and the Moon was stunning.  Thursday morning, when the Moon was next to Saturn, the clouds and fog were out, so the sky was mostly featureless -- although the moon rose so near to sunrise that I'm thinking it would have been very difficult to see even with a clear sky.

 The Friday after Thanksgiving, I managed to get some photographs of the Moon, Saturn, Venus and Jupiter.


We had some computer problems shortly afterward which prevented a proper download of the photos from my camera.  (The camera can do some wireless transfers to a mobile device, but I noticed the image quality was vastly inferior to using a cable to directly copy image files to a hard drive.)


At the end of a day of decorating my folks' Christmas tree, I excused myself and went out to the southern slope of the hill where they live.


The crescent moon was out, but none of the other planets was visible.  I was glad that I got out a little early, because it allowed me to find a good spot to set up the tripod.   Then I waited and tried not to fiddle around with the zoom too much (which requires re-focusing).


I did wish that I'd managed to have a clear sky several nights prior when the Moon would have been much closer to Venus and Jupiter, but the Moon that Friday made it easier to find Saturn.






Writing: I got out of the house Monday and edited a long non-fiction piece that's been rattling around.  It needs some cleaning up, and I should decide if I'm going to post it in installments to this blog or if I'm just going to push it out to Amazon or something.


Gym report:  went to the gym Monday and did the new routine.  I allowed myself a ten day break; the last time I was at the gym was Friday, December 20.  I got some earbuds over the break and tried them out; I have to say that not hearing nihilistic music about some dude's co-dependent relationship and general mess of a life was kind of nice.

Last night's big adventure was taking photographs of Venus and Jupiter.  I was a little over-enthusiastic, and went clumping up the hill with my camera and tripod around 4:40, just as the sun set.  The extra time searching for a suitable west-facing spot was rewarded, though, as our part of the valley brings an early sun- and planets-set.

I set up at a street corner (sort of near a street-lamp, as it turned out).  I'm pretty sure that no local residents were too freaked out by a heavily jacketed person hovering over a camera, pointed vaguely west.  Around 5:15 Venus became obvious enough for me to find it -- I kept casting about, worried that I'd be looking and looking for Venus and Jupiter, only to find them hiding behind a tree, five seconds before they set.

What I learned was.

An f-stop of 8 will bring out the reds and purples in a evening sky.   An f-stop of 1will flatten the color.   Also, a f-stop of 1 has a narrow field-of-focus; 8 has a wider field.   I think, also, that an f-stop of 1 is more likely to bring out the snow-flake asterism effect when Venus is over-exposed (hmm, I'll have to check on this, because it seems backward).

Venus will wash out and over-saturate its pixels at a lower f-stop and a longer exposure time.

Starting at a half-second, at extreme zoom (55mm and above), exposure times above a half second will begin to show streaked planets as they move in their orbits.

Whoa!  An ISO of 400 will show up the moons of Jupiter!  Without streaking.  It does, however, increase the graininess of the photograph with extra noise.

Changing the field of view (wide or zoom) requires slight adjustment to the focus.

For most astro shots, I'm thinking that I want a f-stop of 8, a shutter speed of about a fourth or eighth of a second, and an ISO of 100.   For Jupiter's moon shots, I think I want a midnight Jupiter, an ISO of 400, and a fourth of a second exposure.

I have to make a note-card with all of this on it so I can remember correctly for next time.  Sunday (11/24) is a Big Astro day, as the Moon will be conjunct Mars early in the morning (fingers crossed against fog) and Venus and Jupiter make their closest conjunction in the evening (fingers crossed against rain).

Full photoset here:  https://photos.app.goo.gl/354ESCRxbCLkrUNJ7

ƒ/81/1357mmISO100

Thursday night around 10PM, I took a bunch of photos of Jupiter.  I was hopping that the photos would come out more clearly.  I opened up the f-stop to it's widest setting (oh, wait, f/8?); if I kept the shutter open much longer than a second, the pictures seemed to be more blurry.  I'm thinking I might have had better seeing if it were winter and the ecliptic were higher in the sky.  It's hard to see, but I think one of the moons was coming out from behind Jupiter.

 Saturday night I took some photos of the Moon and Jupiter.