Carbon Capture

A few weeks ago I found that my iPolar software in my HEM27 iOptron mount was routinely crashing when trying to perform polar alignment. The latest missive from tech support suggested that I should update the firmware. So with a clear sky and open schedule I took the opportunity to finally apply the update and re-test the software. Sadly, and a bit frustratingly, it still crashed when trying to do an alignment.

Despite the technical hiccup, I decided to pop on the Vixen and start an observation session with the objectives of evaluating the new (to me) 13mm TeleVue Delite eyepiece purchased at the HAL Christmas Party auction and visiting some items on the AL Carbon Star observing list. The sky was devoid of moonlight, offering seemingly clear visibility with a thin haze. Orion was dropping below the western tree line while Boötes was yet to climb over the roof from my backyard vantage point.

To keep it simple I elected to visit three carbon stars for the evening’s itinerary. Carbon stars are a fascinating subset of stellar objects that capture the interest of many amateur astronomers. These stars, characterized by their deep red hues, have atmospheres containing more carbon than oxygen, leading to the formation of carbon compounds that give them their distinctive color. The attraction of carbon stars lies not only in their sometimes striking appearance but also in their varying luminosity. They lend themselves well to the skies often encountered by the suburban amateur astronomer.

My first target was Y CVn, a carbon star in Canes Venatici, also known as “La Superba.” Despite the challenges with the iPolar alignment, the accuracy of the pointing allowed me to use the Slew & Center function efficiently on Cor Caroli. Upon keying in the coordinates for Y Canis Venaticorum, I inspected the field at low power and immediately identified the star by its red tint compared to other field stars. Switching to the 13mm eyepiece enhanced the color slightly, but the sparse field and light pollution subdued the redness. In comparison, I recalled Mu Cephei and Hind’s Crimson Star as being more striking.

Next, I attempted to observe T Cnc in Cancer. Using the Sync to Target function after slewing to Mars, I fine-tuned the positioning and centered the object. Initially, the field appeared pleasant but lacked any sun with the characteristic cerise coloration. Increasing magnification to 46x revealed a star with a slight hint of red, which I am guessing was T Cancri. Its faintness (probably at around 9th magnitude according to current AAVSO observations) likely made it challenging to detect its red coloration distinctly. It’d be worth targeting again with either a larger aperture or maybe from a darker sky.

After my challenging observation at T Cnc, I bid the scope to move a couple degrees to neighboring carbon star X Cancri. This time the low power view, a field busy with stars of a wide range in brightness, quickly revealed one breaking the monochrome black and white palette with a distinctive ruddy glow. Again, the 13mm eyepiece offered a better view at 46x by darkening the background a bit to increase the contrast a tad. To my eye this one is similar in brightness and redness (maybe even a slight bit ruddier?) than La Superba visited at the start of the session. That along with a more interesting field makes this a nice addition to the Astronomical League’s Carbon Star observing program.

Observing carbon stars for the suburban astronomer requires a little patience and modest equipment to work with their faint luminosity and distinctive color which can be obscured by light pollution or a sky lacking good transparency. Nevertheless, the pursuit of these celestial furnaces nearing their end of life certainly can be a rewarding endeavor and a pleasant evening’s celestial pursuit.

Eclipse Cloudout

A couple of weeks ago, the Moon’s orbit carried it into the Earth’s shadow during the early morning hours of March 14th. This eclipse was ideally positioned for those of us in the United States, so I was excited and hopeful to have a chance to witness it and capture some beautiful shots during totality.

I started monitoring the weather forecast in earnest on Thursday morning. The sources didn’t agree much. Underground Weather and WeatherBug predicted a significant cloud deck, whereas Astropheric and Clear Outside were far more optimistic. It seemed like an offshore system might creep westward and potentially cloud us out. The pattern suggested it might be advantageous to try and outrun the clouds by heading to western Maryland or West Virginia. However, since that wasn’t a sure thing, I opted for the comfort and convenience of watching from my backyard.

I downloaded and set up the Lunar Eclipse Timer and Camera Controller (LETnC) application the day before. I had used the solar eclipse counterpart to this software during last year’s Total Solar Eclipse, so I was hoping to leverage it for this lunar eclipse. I ensured that both my Canon Mark II and Canon t6i had charged batteries. The former would provide nice views of the full Moon through the 80mm Vixen telescope, while the latter could be used for a variety of shots with the 300mm telephoto lens.

Around 9 PM, I brought the equipment out from the garage, aligned the mount, and balanced the Vixen on it. The iPolar was acting a bit quirky, so it took longer than expected—I even rebooted and reinstalled the software to no avail. Fortunately, there was plenty of time before the eclipse would start, and the rough alignment provided by the glitchy iPolar would suffice.

As we approached the point where the Earth’s penumbra began to creep onto the disk, I took a shot of Luna in her pre-eclipsed state. I noticed some very high, thin clouds creating a slight glow around the Moon, but through the telescope, their impact was negligible. Although chilly, the seeing seemed fairly good—around 5/10, with transparency at about 6/10.

Uneclipsed Moon

Slightly before midnight, the Earth’s outer shadow touched the Moon. However, as usual, the effect was too subtle to see. Only when we got within about 15 minutes of the first contact with the darker umbra could one begin to appreciate a darkening on the Moon’s limb. By C1 at 1:09 AM, the clouds were slowly thickening, but not enough to seriously impact the spectacle or my photography.

A few minutes after C1

Over the next hour, I continued to document the encroaching shadow, re-centering the Moon in the Vixen and hopping over to the telephoto setup to reel off a few bracketed shots. Unfortunately, the cloud cover seemed to be matching the depth of the eclipse, gradually but inexorably thickening as the minutes ticked down towards totality. I had to edit the LETnC script to make the exposures a little longer, and it became clear it would be a race to see if the clouds would win out and block totality. A look at the satellite infrared image was not at all promising, with offshore clouds pushing into our area.

About 30 minutes before totality

By a little after 2 AM, it was clear that the weather had won this round. As the Moon was further engulfed in shadow, it was first lost from eyesight, and then even the telescope's light-gathering advantage was overwhelmed in my effort to continue photographing the eclipse. When C2 arrived a little before 2:30 AM, there was nothing to see, and the hope of witnessing the beautiful coppery orb floating in the spring sky slipped away along with the Moon.

I retreated inside to rest a bit and set an alarm for 3 AM, just in case the clouds relented. But when I checked the window, there was still no hint of the Moon in the sky, so I turned in for the night. Interestingly, some other members of HAL went out to Alpha Ridge to view the eclipse, and their skies held clear enough up until totality to capture some nice images. And so it goes in this often-frustrating hobby that depends so heavily on having a clear sky above!

Leveraging Starlight for Sharpening Planets

The field of digital planetary imaging is where art meets science, particularly in post-processing. After using our preferred tools to distill a video of several thousand frames into a stacked and aligned image, there is still much work to do. We need to refine it into a sharpened view of the target before applying some tweaks in a program like Photoshop. To achieve that sharpened image, we have two techniques at our disposal: wavelet sharpening and deconvolution.

Wavelet sharpening is a key feature of the freeware application Registax6, a staple of planetary imagers for many years. The author of the software, Cor Berrevoets, has not issued an update to the venerable program since 2011. He has, however, created a successor in the form of another freeware application called waveSharp. Both of these tools decompose the selected image into layers - from large-scale components of the image to fine scale. By adjusting the sliders, you can selectively enhance these aspects of your image. The finer scale adjustments must be done with a light touch to avoid introducing significant noise to the final result. Fortunately, one can combat the noise by suppressing the finer scale adjustment.

The ability to apply deconvolution is appearing in more tools for the planetary imager. One excellent new addition is the Lucky Stack Worker (LSW) freeware application (a video by the author, Wilco Kasteleijn, is on the ALPO channel). Another is AstroSurface, an application with extensive filters and functions for not only the planetary imager but the deep sky enthusiast as well.

So, what is deconvolution? In brief, it is using a contemporary representation of an Airy disk to help recover detail lost through atmospheric turbulence, soft focus, or optical issues. Under perfect conditions, when examining a moderately bright star, you would expect to see a small disk with diffraction rings emanating from it, known as its Point Spread Function (PSF). The interface on the LSW has two checkboxes - one for "Deconvolve" and one for "Sharpen" (i.e., wavelet sharpening). If we select the Deconvolve and select the "bullseye" adjacent to it, we see that LSW is offering us a synthetic PSF with sliders to allow us to adjust it.

Impacts when adjusting the Seeing Index slider

You could take a few minutes before or after your imaging run to inspect a nearby star and make a note of its Airy disk appearance to emulate it in the synthetic version. But why not record an image to capture the PSF for that particular imaging session? This is exactly the sort of thing that Wilco Kasteleijn advocates in the LSW manual and references a nice article by Marco Lorenzi on how to do this.

A couple of nights ago, Astropheric was displaying that the seeing would be "average" with temperatures in the 40s, so it was an opportunity to try this technique and maybe gain some experience acquiring a PSF image to leverage in my processing. Like a deep sky flat frame, the PSF image should be taken with the same imaging setup and without pointing the telescope too far from the target.

My first attempt using a star near Jupiter did not yield results, as it ended up being too faint and requiring a longer exposure. That, in turn, blurred the Airy disk by its scintillation. For Mars, I targeted a brighter star and had more success with a frames-per-second rate nearing 100. Even so, it is challenging to get it right; in retrospect, I should have lowered the gain further to avoid "blowing out" the Airy disk.

The PSF image taken during the imaging run

So, here are the results! Even with only a fair PSF image processed by Autostakkert, the LSW did a nice job of recovering the details from what turned out to be sub-par seeing. Applying sharpening and denoising to the image resulted in a reasonable, if not admirable, image showing albedo features, the polar cap, and likely cloud features.

To me, this technique of capturing a PSF image as part of the Lucky Imaging session holds great promise. As a final note, here is a Copilot-assisted comparison of how these two techniques help us achieve fantastic planetary images.

Chasing Planets: January's Observations and Challenges

The media has been hawking the auspicious "planetary parade" that allows an observer to see 6 planets during frosty January evenings. Of course two of those (Uranus and Neptune) are not naked eye objects. I do not mind articles that generate interest in our hobby, but my fear is always the "over promising and under deliver" risk.

However, January was indeed a fun month for us planet observers. Mars was occulted by the nearly Full Moon on the evening of the 13^th, and then two days later came to opposition for this apparition. Jupiter was positioned well and decided to throw a major eruption amid its North Tropical Zone southern jet stream on January 10^th, garnering a lot of attention. Venus also ascended the Zodiac after lying close to the southwestern horizon most of its current evening apparition, reaching greatest elongation on the 10^th heading for its highest altitude in the western sky on February 2^nd. The only downside has been the weather with classic winter turbulent seeing amid very cold temps.

Mars Occultation

The skies were clear but quite cold for the occultation of Mars. I set up the 10" Cyrus telescope and verified its collimation. The Moon served as a convenient focus target as I set up about 20 minutes before the scheduled disappearance. I knew that the difference in brightness would be a challenge and thought I'd have time to fiddle with the gain setting right before the occultation, but it happened so fast that I really did not get a great capture with the Moon very overexposed. Still, it was a very cool event to watch the Moon relentlessly approach the red orb and cover it up with about 30 seconds.

The Moon ready to cover Mars

January 17th Session

The evening of the 17th was predicted to have average seeing and temperature right around the freezing mark, which is fairly good for this region in winter. I again set the Cyrus scope out early to cool and verified its collimation. As Venus emerged from encroaching twilight I set to work on capturing our sister planet. 

Starting with the Deep Red filter (642+nm) and no Barlow, Venus provided a bright target upon which to focus. Doing a 5 minute capture resulted in a nice image, showing the planet past dichotomy and a common cue-ball appearance. I have yet to truly discern any cloud details in IR light.

Swapping out the Deep Red filter for an IR-block and UV set, I retargeted the planet and adjusted the settings to bring up the brightness in the fainter UV light. I could make out even on the on-screen image that there was uneven brightness in the sunlight reflecting off the Venusian cloud tops.

Processing produced a nice greyscale image with a some cloud structure. Interestingly, a well defined cusp cap was not really seen, although you might argue one was around the south pole region. This is somewhat in agreement with the UV Venus images I have been seeing submitted to the ALPO for the current evening apparition; cusp caps are not as prominent as I believe they were during the last apparition.

By now Saturn was visible in the deepening twilight, close and to the left of Venus. I figured why not give it one last capture since the upcoming mid-March solar conjunction and my obstructed western horizon meant it would soon be inaccessible. I added the Barlow back into the imaging path and returned to the Deep Red filter. Seeing was not very good, and the rings had closed up again compared to a few months ago. I had enough juice in the laptop for two 2-minute captures, resulting in a sub-par image where it is hard to even detect the globe's shadow being cast against the rings. Au revoir Saturn - until we meet again in the late spring!

Getting the AC adapter hooked up to the laptop I next swung over to Jupiter. My hopes were to get multiple captures into the evening if the weather held, recording not only the very recent North Tropical Zone southern jet stream eruption but also that continually expanding disturbance in the South Equatorial Belt that started back in November.

The seeing ended up being fairly good over the course of about 5 hours, allowing me to capture a lot of interesting features, including that NTrZ outbreak. As we began to close in on midnight the gods conspired to end my run as the cirrus clouds began to thicken and the tracking on the Celestron mount suddenly had a stall (it is always amazing how quickly the planet exits the frame when this happens). Rather than fight to recenter and continue amid the deteriorating seeing and transparency I decided to wrap things up on Jupiter.

In the middle of my Jupiter captures I had to take a break due to the location of the planet. When an object is high and near the meridian, the Cyrus telescope tube runs up against one of the tripod legs. The resolution would be to raise the tube up off the saddle, somewhat like extending with a pier. But that would be a lot of effort and so is not likely to happen in the near future (if at all). 

But rather than waste the time I opted to do a run on Mars which had just passed opposition a few days earlier. While at only about 13" in size the disk was large enough to take in some nice albedo features such as Syrtis Major setting and Sinus Sabaeus and Sinus Meridiani on the central meridian. The NPC was also a brilliant white and was a good feature to leverage in trying to get the best possible focus. Hopefully I will get in a few more sessions with Mars for this apparition, but it's going to shrink in size quickly now that it is past opposition.

While I did not achieve all my goals for the evening (I missed seeing the SEB disturbance on Jupiter), it was quite a good night for the middle of January. It reflects why planetary observing provides such a rich experience for the amateur astronomer.

December Planet Parade

While it is nice to see a planet coming to opposition in the northern part of the zodiac given the much higher altitude it then attains in our skies. But while the planet heads north, our opportunities of good seeing go south. The heat of the day radiating into the atmosphere sets up turbulence and often results in poor seeing. It also seems that the winter months are more overcast. This year I went 51 days (late October to mid-December) between observations - not great! 

Uranus - December 18, 2024

At the start of the year one of the astronomy goals I had set was to image Uranus with its moons. I tried a couple of times earlier in the fall without success, but finally on the night of the 18th I got the SharpCap stacking working with Uranus as the target. I had to keep the region of interest (RoI) wide because otherwise the software complained of not having enough stars to align. I played with the exposure and gain to finally generate a nice stacked image that clearly showed some of the moons.

Using some post-processing tools to enhance the raw stack resulted in a fairly satisfying result. The Sky & Telescope online tool that shows where the moons are in relation to the planet was helpful in orienting the shot. I ended up capturing 4 of them (Titania, Oberon, Ariel, and Umbriel) - Miranda was probably lost in the glare of the planet. Maybe next time I'll try to include the Barlow in the imaging train to gain some more space between the planet and moon.

After that success I decided to focus on trying to capture the planet without overexposing it. For this run I did WL with an UV/IR cut filter. Uranus is very difficult to pull out details, and those usually require an IR wavelength and larger aperture. The ending result was perhaps a bit more blue than I expected, but overall definitely the best image of Uranus I have been able to produce.

Jupiter - December 23, 2024 

Just a couple days before Christmas the evening sky was clear but cold, but with predictions of average seeing so I thought I'd set up the scope. I was amazed to find that the seeing was actually above average as I dialed in Jupiter. I started off with a series of WL runs using the Cyrus 10" f/6 and a 2.5x Barlow. 

In between Christmas Eve activities the next day I found a little time to do some processing of the captures and was quite happy with the outcome. Oval BA was almost on the meridian, far easier to see than last year with a pale tan coloration. Out ahead of it was long enduring oval A8. The SEB had some spots of darker material, but my general impression is that the belt is weaker than it has been the last couple of years. The EZ had a lot of material swept into it from both NEB and SEB, presenting almost like latte foam art crafted by a talented barista. The NEB had a small, intense outbreak midway between the following limb and central meridian. 

I also ran a set of CH4 captures since the seeing was above average. As to be expected, BA was the most prominent object at that wavelength.

Mars - December 23, 2024  

By this time Mars had cleared the neighbor's tree and was an enticing target. I did several runs in WL with high hopes of getting a good capture. After four 2-minute runs I swapped out for the R+IR filter, but the laptop unfortunately cut off due to low power after only one capture.

Processing after Christmas showed a well-formed NPC with a "Lowell Band" around it comprised of Propontis II and Utopia. There definitely were some clouds around the south pole, and M. Cimmerium was well placed. In the center was the Elysium area which seemed to show as an elevated area more strongly than I recall previously. The single R+IR shot was also worthwhile, demonstrating how the longer wavelength can sometime bring out additional details, such as the subtle Gomer Sinus extension off of M. Cimmerium.

Overall, quite a nice way to wrap up 2024. It was another enjoyable year with lots of activity, from a Total Solar Eclipse to a pretty good comet. Hopefully 2025 will bring more clear nights and interesting features to enjoy!

Occultation of a Sapphire

Out of the 12 zodiac constellations, only six stars shine at first magnitude. Of these, just four lie close enough to the ecliptic for the Moon to occasionally pass in front of them during its monthly orbit. Up until now I had been able to catch occultations of Antares and Aldebaran, but not Spica and Regulus. Lunar occultations of this stellar quartet is not routine. First, the Moon's distance from the ecliptic has to match that of the star when the Moon is swinging by it. Then you have to be in the right location on Earth. Due to the Moon's closeness to the Earth, parallax is in play so that an occultation in the US can easily be a near-miss in Canada. Add to this the need to have clear skies and it's easy to see why many amateur observers have not caught occultations of all the candidate bright zodiac stars.

This month in the pre-dawn skies on Wednesday, November 27^th, Spica was slated to undergo an occultation from my location. Some aspects of the event were very favorable. The Moon would be a fat crescent, making it easier to see Spica adjacent to it. The altitude would be at least 20° so that it would be above the tree line. On the downside, the reemergence from behind the Moon's dark limb would happen close to sunrise, making it impossible to see naked-eye but certainly doable in binoculars. 

The weather prediction on the evening of the 26th was very guarded. Depending on the source, predictions were for anywhere from 20% clouds to 70% clouds with a storm system heading our way for the holiday (Thanksgiving). Given the uncertain weather, I opted not to set up my telescope. Instead, I relied on my binoculars and camera with a telephoto lens for a simpler approach.

I got up around 4:30 a.m. and peeked out the window to see a fair amount of clouds, but a few "sucker holes" thrown in just enough to entice me to getting dressed and going outside. A little before five I was outside and could see the Moon rising through the denuded tree across the street from my driveway. Spica was visible as well, and its blue color evident nicely in the binoculars. But the clouds, not so thick as to obscure the Moon yet heavy enough to degrade the view, were passing by frequently. It'd be a matter of luck as to whether I'd catch anything.

Crescent Moon, Spica clearing tree line

In the back yard I positioned myself where the Moon would be above obstacles and worked on the camera's focus at 300mm. I snapped a few shots and examined them to verify that I had a reasonable focus. As the minutes ticked down to the anticipated disappearance at 5:34 a.m., I alternated admiring the view with just my eyes and then with the binoculars, all the while grabbing a few shots to document the approach. Part of what makes an event like this so suited for visual observation is the ability of our eyes to handle a wide range of brightness. I could appreciate the bright star hanging below the even brighter crescent which then gave way to the dark side of the Moon illuminated by earthshine. It is very hard to recreate that visual experience in a photo.

Finally with one minute to go I switched the camera to record video and inspected the view in my 7x50 binoculars. The task of witnessing the coup de grâce was challenging. My hands were not steady enough to get anything but a fleeting, occasional sighting of the star adjacent to the bright lunar limb. Within a few moments it was gone from view, and I halted the recording and went inside to warm up.

With about 70 minutes to go until reemergence of Spica I had to decide how to document that event. With the clouds continuing to hang around I didn't feel it was worth the effort to set up a telescope to capture it. The camera with its lens would hopefully be able to pick out Virgo's lucida when it popped into view. 

I took my position a little before quarter to seven o'clock and focused the camera on the Moon. As fate would have it there were actually very few clouds now, making me wish I had set up the Vixen to observe the reemergence. With about a minute to go I turned the video on and began targeting the Moon in my binoculars, trying to steady them by resting my elbow on the fence. Suddenly there it was, a shining dot backlit by a strong twilight sky. The show was complete and I brought the camera inside.

Spica's Reemergence

Reviewing the captures revealed the shots leading up to the disappearance went well for the most part, but the last few seconds on video are quite hard to discern the moment the star winks out given the brightness of the lunar limb. The reemergence video is better in documenting how Spica suddenly appears in the pale blue sky. Undoubtably there's much opportunity to massage the digital data on upcoming cloudy evenings into something that more closely represents what was seen by the human eye.

While conditions were not perfect, they were good enough that I’ve now witnessed three out of the four first-magnitude stars in the zodiac disappear behind the Moon ‐ only Regulus remains! This occultation, with Spica glowing like a sapphire alongside the Moon’s western limb, is now one of the highlights of my astronomical year and a reminder of how the cosmos never ceases to delight me.

A Charming Comet

There was the standard hype and hope surrounding Comet C\2023 A3 (a.k.a. Comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS) as it closed in on perihelion last month. Discovered some 18 months earlier, it had seemed to stutter on its brightening curve over the summer, leading some to wonder if it'd be only a 3rd-4th magnitude object. Others fretted that the comet was not even going to survive buzzing the Sun and would go the route of Comet ISON in 2013 and disintegrate.

However, by early October it became apparent that the comet had survived and was poised to put on a nice show in northern skies around the 2nd week of October. The window of opportunity would not be very long as the Oort visitor would be quickly heading outbound and fading with each passing day. Would it be something I could see with my naked eye? And would nature cooperate with some clear skies?

Comet C/2023 A3 on Oct 15th

The evening of October 15th had beautifully clear skies so I grabbed the camera and walked up the street a little to get the best possible western sky view. I started around 7:20 pm and continued looking for the comet for about 25 minutes. I had no luck with either naked eye or using my 7x50 binoculars, which I attributed in part to being quite literally 20 yards from a street light. I kept snapping bracketed images of the sky in hopes that maybe I would pick up something.

Once inside with the images downloaded to the laptop it was quite apparent that I had been scouring the area a little south of the comet's position, because it was there quite clearly in the 4-second exposure. Sigh - a missed opportunity yet again due to Towson's light pollution!

Fortunately the weather was in one of those fabulous fall runs of clear, dry skies. So the next day I used Google Maps to identify a location in Hereford that appeared to have some parking as well as a nice western horizon. Shortly after dinner I set off with camera and binoculars to the Gunpowder State Park Trails off of Mt Carmel Rd. Twilight was fading when I got there and I was a little surprised at the number of people who were already there in the tiny parking lot. I grabbed the camera and walked across the road to keep the overhead power lines out of any picture.

It took only seconds to sweep up the comet in the binoculars sporting a beautiful coma of about 2nd magnitude with a tail fanning out behind it for several degrees. Lowering the binoculars and using averted vision I could definitely make out a streak in the western sky. There'd be no way to discern that from home, but out here, even with the automobile lights on this heavily traveled road, it was clearly naked-eye visible. I did a quick look in the glove compartment for my distance glasses but alas they were missing.

I started clicking off shots of Tsuchinshan-ATLAS as quickly as I could as some malingering clouds threatened to get in the way. I bracket exposures as well as focal length to hopefully get a wide angle and then a closer shot of the beautiful visitor. The rising full Moon over my shoulder served as a good test of focus to ensure I did not mess that up. I kept taking occasional breaks to admire the comet in the binoculars, admiring the gossamer tail trailing the star-like coma. 

While Tsuchinshan-ATLAS was certainly a pretty sight, it made me appreciate just how amazing the late 90's had been with Hyakutake and then Hale-Bopp. Those were truly spectacular comets that graced our skies back then, setting the benchmark against which all other icy interlopers are measured in my mind.

19 stacked 2.5 second frames at ISO 800

All too soon the comet lost altitude as it parachuted towards the horizon. Venus had set and Boötes with his lucida of Arcturus was struggling to stay above the horizon, signaling it was time to wrap things up. I grabbed the camera & tripod and carefully crossed the road to the parking lot (as one gets older it's critical to move carefully in the dark to avoid a fall!)

As I reached the car I chatted with a couple of folks who were also enjoying the spectacle. One of them had brought a Seestar and was getting some very impressive shots with that. And as it turned out one the guys was John Rose, a high school friend who had been in the Boys' Latin Astronomy club with me some 50 years earlier. I couldn't help but think how very cool it was that here we were a half century later, still being lured out under the night sky to witness its wonders!