Brace yourselves for Blue Moon madness. The month of July 2015 hosts two Full Moons: One on July 2nd and another coming right up this week on Friday, July 31st at 10:43 Universal Time (UT)/6:43 AM EDT.
In modern day vernacular, the occurrence of two Full Moons in one calendar month has become known as a ‘Blue Moon.’ This is a result of the synodic period (the amount of time it takes for the Moon to return to a like phase, in this case Full back to Full) of 29.5 Earth days being less than every calendar month except February.
In the ‘two Full Moons in one month’ sense, the last time a Blue Moon occurred was on August 31st, 2012, and the next is January 31st, 2018. The next time a Blue Moon occurs in the month of July is 2034, and the last July Blue Moon was 2004.
We say “once in a blue Moon,” as if it’s a rarity, but as you can see, they’re fairly frequent, occurring nearly once every 2-3 years or so.
Now, we’ll let you in on a secret. Like its modern internet meme cousin the ‘Super-Moon,’ astronomers don’t sit in mountain top observatories discussing the vagaries of the Blue Moon. In fact, astronomers rarely like to observe during the weeks surrounding the light-polluting Full Moon, and often compile data from the comfort of their university offices rather than visit mountaintop observatories these days…
The modern Blue Moon is now more of a cultural phenomenon. We’ve written previously about how an error brought us to the current ‘two Full Moons in one month definition.’ A more convoluted old timey definition was introduced in ye ole Maine Farmer’s Almanac circa 1930s as “the third Full Moon in an astronomical season with four.”
Legend has it that the Maine Farmer’s Almanac denoted this pesky extra seasonal Full Moon with ‘blue’ instead of black ink… to our knowledge, no examples exist to support this intriguing tale. Anyone have any old almanacs in the attic holding such a revelation out there?
Of course, the Moon most likely won’t appear to be physically blue, no matter what friends/family/co-workers/anonymous persons on Twitter say. The Moon can actually appear blue, as it did on September 23rd, 1950 for much of the eastern United States and Canada through the haze of several forest fires in western Canada. The Moon was actually at waxing gibbous phase on the evening of this phenomenon, and as far as we can tell, no photographic documentation of this event exists. Spaceweather, has, however gathered a gallery of blue moon eyewitness reports over the years, including a few images. This occurs when moonlight is filtered through suspended oil drops about a micrometer in diameter which scattered yellow and red light, leaving a Moon with a ghostly indigo glow.
So there’s definitely another challenge to catch and photograph a truly ‘Blue Moon’ under such rare atmospheric circumstances… and remember, the Moon doesn’t have to be near Full to do it!
Watch that Moon, as we’ve got a few red letter dates coming up through the remainder of 2015. First up: the Supermoon season cometh in August, as we have a series of three Full Moons falling less than 24 hours from perigee on August 29th, September 28th, and October 27th. Our money is on that middle one as having the potential to generate the most online lunacy, as it’s also the last total lunar eclipse of the current tetrad of four total lunar eclipses for 2014 and 2015, a ‘super-blood moon eclipse’ anyone? Though the dead won’t rise from the grave to mark such an occasion, you can be sure that many a sky aficionado will stumble zombie-like into the office the next day after pulling an all-nighter for the last good North American total lunar eclipse until 2018.
And it’s worth noting the path of the Moon, as it reaches its shallow mid-point in the last half of 2015. The Moon’s orbit is tilted about five degrees relative to the ecliptic, meaning that it can ride anywhere from 18 degrees—as it does this year—to 28 degrees from the celestial equator. This cycle takes about 19 years to complete, and a wide-ranging ‘long nights Moon’ last occurred in 2006, and will next occur in 2025.
So don’t fear the Blue Moon, but be sure to take a stroll under its light this coming Friday… and perhaps enjoy a frosty Blue Moon beer on the eve of the sultry month of August.
Phew! Our eyes and thoughts have been cast so far out into the outer reaches of the solar system following New Horizons and Pluto this week, that we’re just now getting to the astronomical action going on in our own backyard.
My eyes are burning. The morning Sun, already 40° high, glares a lemony-orange. It’s meteorologically clear, but the sky looks like paste. What’s going on here?
Forest fires! Many in the Midwest, northern mountain states and Canadian provinces have been living under a dome of high altitude smoke the past few days reflected in the ruddy midday Sun and bloody midnight Moon.
Fires raging in the forests of northern Alberta and Saskatchewan have poured tremendous amounts of smoke into the atmosphere. Favorable winds have channeled the fumes into a brownish river of haze flowing south and east across Canada and into the northern third of the U.S. If an orange Sun glares overheard at midday, you’ve got smoke. Sometimes you can smell it, but often you can’t because it’s at an altitude of 1.2 – 3 miles (2-5 km).
But the visual effects are dramatic. Last night, the nearly full Moon looked so red and subdued, it could easily have been mistaken for a total lunar eclipse. I’ve never seen a darker, more remote-looking Moon. Yes, remote. Without its customary glare, our satellite looked shrunken as if untethered from Earth and drifting away into the deep.
And nevermind about the stars. Try as I might, I could only make out zero magnitude Vega last night. The camera and a time exposure did a little better but not much.
These days of deep red suns in the middle of the day fiery moons at night are an occasional occurrence across Canada and the northern half of the U.S. during the summer. Our previous bout with fire haze happened in early June as a result of massive wildfires in the Northwest Territories and northern Alberta. A change in wind direction and thorough atmospheric-cleaning by thunderstorms returned our blue skies days later.
While the downsides of fire haze range from poor air quality to starless nights, the upside is a more colorful Sun and Moon.
Back in grade school we all learned that white light is made up of every color of the rainbow. On a sunny day, air molecules, which are exceedingly tiny, scatter away the blue light coming from the Sun and color the sky blue. Around sunset and sunrise, when the Sun’s light passes through the lowest, thickest, haziest part of the atmosphere, greens and yellows are also scattered away, leaving an orange or red Sun.
Fire smoke adds billions of smoke particles to the atmosphere which scatter away purples, blues, greens and yellows to turn an otherwise white Sun into a blood red version smack in the middle of the day.
Keep an eye on the color of the blue sky and watch for red suns at midday. Forest fires are becoming more common and widespread due to climate change. If you’ve never seen this eerie phenomenon, you may soon. For more satellite images of forest fires, check out NASA’s Fires and Smoke site.
I’ve often wondered what it would look like if Earth orbited a red dwarf star instead of the Sun. These smoky days give us a taste.
Neil Armstrong is considered one of the greatest heroes of the space age, earning renown within the United States and the world over for being the first person to land a spacecraft on the Moon and the first person to set foot on the Lunar surface. But what is the story behind the man? As with all heroes and inspiration figures, the road that led to his famous declaration “One small step for [a] man,” began early on in his life.
Early Life:
Neil was born on August 5, 1930, in Auglaize County near Wapakoneta, Ohio to Stephen Koenig Armstrong and Viola Louise Engel. His father worked as an auditor for the Ohio government, which meant that the family moved around quite a lot during Neil’s formative years. In fact, the Armstrong’s lived in a total of 20 towns for the first few years of Neil’s life.
From an early age, Neil demonstrated a deep passion for flying. When he was just two-years-old, his father took him to the Cleveland Air Races. On July 20, 1936, when he was five, he experienced his first airplane flight in Warren, Ohio, where he and his father took a ride in a Ford Trimotor airplane (also known as the “Tin Goose”).
As a child, Armstrong was also active in the Boy Scouts and obtained the rank of Eagle Scout. As a teenager, he began taking flying lessons and worked at the local airport and at other odd jobs in order to pay for it. At the age of 16, before he even had his driver’s license, Neil earned his pilot’s license and began down the path that would eventually take him into space.
At the age of 17, Armstrong went off to study aeronautical engineering. Although he had been accepted to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, he decided instead to go to Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana, in order to be closer to home. His college tuition was paid for under the Holloway Plan, where applicants committed to two years of study, followed by three years of service in the U.S. Navy, before completed the final two years of their degree program.
Military Pilot:
In January of 1949, at the age of 18, Armstrong was called-up for military service and went off to the Naval Air Station in Pensacola, Florida, to begin his flight training. This lasted almost 18 months, during which time he qualified for carrier landing aboard the USS Cabot and USS Wright. On August 16th, 1950, two weeks after his 20th birthday, Armstrong was informed by letter that he was a fully qualified Naval Aviator.
In June 1951, the carrier he had been assigned to – the USS Essex – set sail for Korea, where his unit (VF-51, an all-jet squadron) would act as a ground-attack squadron. In the course of the war, he flew 78 missions and accumulated approximately 121 hours of combat experience. His plane was shot down once, but Armstrong managed to eject and was rescued without incident or serious injury.
For his service to his country, he received several commendations, including the Air Medal for his first 20 combat missions, a Gold Star for the next 20, and the Korean Service Medal and Engagement Star. Armstrong left the Navy at age 22 on August 23rd, 1952, and became a Lieutenant, Junior Grade, in the U.S. Naval Reserve. He remained in the reserve for eight years, then resigned his commission on October 21st, 1960.
After his service in Korea, Armstrong returned to his studies at Purdue. In 1955, he was awarded a Bachelor of Science degree in Aeronautical Engineering, and a Master of Science degree in Aerospace Engineering from the University of Southern California in 1970. Armstrong would also be awarded honorary doctorates by several universities later on in life.
It was also during his time at Purdue that Armstrong met Janet Elizabeth Shearon, the woman he would go on to marry. After graduating, the two moved to Cleveland, Ohio, where Armstrong was working at the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics’ (NACA) Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory as a research test pilot. The two married on January 28th, 1956, at the Congregational Church in Wilmette, Illinois.
After 18-months, the Armstrongs moved to Edwards Air Force Base in California where he began working for the NACA’s High-Speed Flight Station. While there, he flew multiple experimental aircraft, including the Bell X-1B, the T-33 Shooting Star, the Lockheed F-104, and the North American X-15. He also met legendary test pilot Chuck Yeager, and was involved in several incidents that went down in Andrew’s AFB folklore.
Gemini Program:
In September of 1962, Armstrong joined the NASA Astronaut Corps as part of what the press dubbed “the New Nine” – a group of nine astronauts that were selected for the Gemini and Apollo programs. These programs, which were the successor to the Mercury Program – which sought to place an astronaut in orbit (popularized by the movie The Right Stuff) – were designed with the intent of conducting long-term space flights and a manned mission to the Moon.
Neil’s first mission to space would take place four years later, on March 16th, 1966, aboard a Titan II spacecraft, with Neil acting as Command Pilot and fellow astronaut David Scott as Pilot. Known as Gemini 8, this mission was the most complex mission to date, involving a rendezvous and docking with an unmanned Agena target vehicle, and some extra-vehicular activity (EVA) being performed.
The docking procedure was a success, but due to mechanical failure, the mission had to be cut short. On September 12th, 1966, Armstrong served as the Capsule Communicator (CAPCOM) for the Gemini 11 mission, remaining in communication with astronauts Pete Conrad and Dick Gordon as they conducted spacecraft rendezvous and EVA operations.
On April 5th, 1967, just three and half months after the Apollo 1 fire took place, Deke Slayton – one of the Mercury Seven astronauts and NASA’s first Chief of the Astronaut Office – brought Armstrong and many other veterans of project Gemini together and told that they would be flying the first Lunar missions.
Over the next six months, Armstrong and the other astronauts began training for a possible trip to the Moon, and Neil was named backup commander for the Apollo 8 mission. On December 23rd, 1968, as Apollo 8 orbited the Moon, Slayton informed Armstrong that he would be commander for the Apollo 11 mission, joined by Buzz Aldrin as lunar module pilot and Michael Collins as command module pilot.
Apollo 11:
On July 16th, 1969, the historic mission blasted off from the Kennedy Space Center in Florida at 13:32:00 UTC (9:32:00 a.m. EDT local time). Thousands of people crowded the highways and beaches near the launch site to watch the Saturn V rocket ascend into the sky. Millions more watched from home, and President Richard M. Nixon viewed the proceedings from the Oval Office at the White House.
The rocket entered the Earth’s orbit some twelve minutes later. After one and a half orbits, the S-IVB third-stage engine pushed the spacecraft onto its trajectory toward the Moon. After 30 minutes, the command/service module pair separated from this last remaining Saturn V stage, docked with the Lunar Module, and the combined spacecraft headed for the Moon.
On July 19th at 17:21:50 UTC, Apollo 11 passed behind the Moon and fired its service propulsion engine to enter lunar orbit. On July 20th, the Lunar Module Eagle separated from the Command Module Columbia, and the crew commenced their Lunar descent. When Armstrong looked outside, he saw that the computer’s landing target was in a boulder-strewn area which he judged to be unsafe. As such, he took over manual control of the LM, and the craft landed at 20:17:40 UTC with only 25 seconds of fuel left.
Armstrong then radioed to Mission Control and announced their arrival by saying: “Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.” Once the crew had gone through their checklist and depressurized the cabin, the Eagles’ hatch was opened and Armstrong began walking down the ladder to the Lunar surface first.
When he reached the bottom of the ladder, Armstrong said: “I’m going to step off the LEM now” (referring to the Lunar Excursion Module). He then turned and set his left boot on the surface of the Moon at 2:56 UTC July 21st, 1969, and spoke the famous words “That’s one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind.”
About 20 minutes after the first step, Aldrin joined Armstrong on the surface and became the second human to set foot on the Moon. The duo then began their tasks of unveiling a plaque commemorating their flight, setting up the Early Apollo Scientific Experiment Package, and planting the flag of the United States. The crew then returned to the LM and blasted off, commencing their return trip to Earth.
Upon returning to Earth, the Apollo 11 crew went on a 45-day tour around the world called the “Giant Leap” tour. Armstrong also traveled to the Soviet Union to talk at the 13th annual conference of the International Committee on Space Research. While there, he met Valentina Tereshkova (the first female astronaut to go into space), Premier Alexei Kosygin, and was given a tour of the Yuri Gagarin Cosmonaut Training Center.
Shortly after the Apollo 11 mission, Armstrong announced that he did not intend to fly in space again; and in 1971, resigned from NASA. He then settled into a life of teaching, accepting a position in the Department of Aerospace Engineering at the University of Cincinnati. After eight years, he resigned. He also spent much of this time acting as a corporate spokesperson and serving on the board of directors of several companies.
Retirement and Death:
During his post-Apollo years, Armstrong also served on two spaceflight accident investigations. The first took place in 1970, where he served as part of the panel that investigated the Apollo 13 mission, presented a detailed chronology of the mission and made recommendations. In 1986, President Reagan appointed him as vice-chairman of the Rogers Commission to investigate the Space-shuttle Challenger disaster of that year.
In 2012, Armstrong underwent vascular bypass surgery to relieve blocked coronary arteries. Although he was reportedly recovering well, he died on August 25th, in Cincinnati, Ohio. In a ceremony that was held aboard the USS Philippine Sea (an American missile cruiser) Armstrong was buried with honors in a ceremony where a U.S. Navy ceremonial guard draped an American flag over his ashes before commended them to the sea.
For his years of service, Armstrong has received numerous medals including the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Congressional Space Medal of Honor, the Congressional Gold Medal, the Robert J. Collier Trophy, and the Sylvanus Thayer Award.
Neil Armstrong has had over a dozen elementary, middle and high schools named in his honor, and many streets, buildings, schools, and other places around the world have been named in honor of Armstrong and/or the Apollo 11 mission. The lunar crater Armstrong, which sits approx. 50 km (31 miles) from the Apollo 11 landing site, and asteroid 6469 Armstrong are named in his honor.
Armstrong was also inducted into the Aerospace Walk of Honor, the National Aviation Hall of Fame, and the United States Astronaut Hall of Fame. Armstrong and his Apollo 11 crewmates were the 1999 recipients of the Langley Gold Medal from the Smithsonian Institution. His alma mater, Purdue University, also named a new engineering hall after him, which was completed in 2007.
Situated on the south shore of New Jersey’s Shark River lies 37 acres of land known as Camp Evans. On April 1, 2015, I was privileged to attend the dedication ceremony celebrating Camp Evans’ becoming one of only 2532 locations in the United States designated as a National Historic Landmark.
In 1912, Gugliemlo Marconi and his company, the American Marconi Company, constructed the Belmar Receiving Station which became part of the wireless girdle of the earth.
In 1917, the site was acquired as part of the Navy’s World War I “Trans-Atlantic Communication System.”
In 1941, the Army Signal Corps purchased the property to construct a top-secret research facility, and it was renamed Evans Signal Laboratory which later became Camp Evans Signal Laboratory.
Following a visit in late October, 1953, Senator Joseph McCarthy described Camp Evans as a “house of spies.” Following an investigation that spanned 1953-1954, not one single employee was prosecuted.
But perhaps Camp Evans’ most interesting – and surprising – place in history begins with a small, informal research project taking place on a parcel of land in the Camp’s northeast corner. The ramifications of this project would ultimately give birth the to Space Age, lead to the development of the US Space Program, and start the Cold War.
Following the end of WWII, American scientists at Camp Evans continued their investigation into whether the earth’s ionosphere could be penetrated using radio waves – a feat that had been studied prior to the end of the War but had long been believed impossible. Project Diana, led by Lt. Col. John H. DeWitt, Jr., aimed to prove that it could indeed be penetrated. A group of radar scientists awaiting their discharge from the Army modified a radar antenna – including significantly boosting its output power – and placed it in the northeast corner of Camp Evans.
On the morning of January 10, 1946, with the dish pointed at the rising moon, a series of radar signals was broadcast. Exactly 2.5 seconds after each signal’s broadcast, its corresponding echo was detected. This was significant because 2.5 seconds is precisely the time required for light to travel the round trip distance between the earth and the moon. Project Diana – and her scientists – had successfully demonstrated that the ionosphere was, in fact, penetrable, and communication beyond our planet was possible. And thus was born the Space Age – as well as the field of Radar Astronomy.
By mid-1958 the United States had launched the Television InfraRed Observation Satellite (TIROS) program designed to study the viability of using satellite imagery and observations as a means of studying the Earth and improving weather forecasting. As part of this effort, the original “Moonbounce” antenna was replaced with a 60-foot parabolic radio antenna dish which would serve as the project’s downlink Ground Communication Station.
On April 1, 1960, NASA successfully launched its TIROS I satellite and the “Silent Sentinel Radio Dish” at Camp Evans began receiving its data being sent down to earth.
The resulting images were so astonishing and groundbreaking that the first photos received from TIROS I were immediately printed and flown to Washington where they were presented to President Eisenhower by NASA Administrator T. Keith Glennan.
The TIROS program would go on to be instrumental in meteorological applications not only because it provided the first accurate weather forecasts and hurricane tracking based on satellite information, but also because it began providing continuous coverage of the earth’s weather in 1962, and ultimately lead to the development of more sophisticated observational satellites. [1]
In addition to serving as the downlink Ground Communications Center for the TIROS I and TIROS II satellites, this same dish has also tracked:
Explorer 1, America’s first satellite, in January, 1958 (pre-dates the launch of TIROS I), and
Sadly, by the mid-1970s, the technology within the TIROS dish (officially named the TLM-18 Space Telemetry Antenna) had become obsolete, and it was retired. Camp Evans was decommissioned and closed in 1993 and its land was transferred to the National Park Service. But in 2012, Camp Evans was designated a National Historic Landmark, and thus began a new, revitalized era for this immensely significant site. In addition to the TIROS Dish and the InfoAge Science History Learning Center and Museum, Camp Evans is also home to:
The Military History Museum;
The Radio Technology Museum;
The National Broadcasters’ Hall of Fame.
DISH RESTORATION
In 2001, InfoAge stepped in and began preserving and restoring the mechanical systems of the TIROS dish. In 2006, a donation from Harris Corporation allowed the dish to be completely repainted and preserved.
Norman Jarosik, Senior Research Physicist at Princeton University and Daniel Marlow, PhD. and Evans Crawford 1911 Professor of Physics at Princeton, as well as countless volunteers from the University, InfoAge, Wall Township (NJ), and the Ocean-Monmouth Amateur Radio Club, Inc. (OMARC) have provided the engineering/scientific knowledge and sweat-equity required to refurbish and update the inoperative radio dish. The original vacuum-tube technology has been replaced with smaller electronic counterparts. Rusty equipment has been replaced. Seized/inoperative motors have been reconditioned and rebuilt. And system-level software controls have been added. The TIROS dish has been transformed into a truly modern, state-of-the-art Radio Astronomy Satellite Dish and Control Center.
On January 19, 2015, scientists from Princeton University pointed the dish skyward toward the center of our galaxy and detected a clear peak at 1420.4 MHz, the well-known 21 cm emission line originating from the deepest recesses of the Milky Way – the dish was working!
FUTURE PLANS
After almost 15 years of restoration and nearly 40 years since it last listened to the sky, the TIROS dish is once again operational, is detecting radio signals from the universe, and is well on its way to be used for science education.
Work continues on renovating Building 9162, the original TIROS Control Building, to convert it into the InfoAge Visitor Center. Plans include a NASA-style control room with theater seating for 20-30 students, a full-scale model of the original TIROS I satellite, and other exhibits dedicated to the history of Project Diana, the TIROS program, and the scientific impact these projects have had on our daily lives.
Future activities being planned using the dish include a Moonbounce experiment, communicating with NOAA weather satellites, performing real-time satellite imaging, viewing the Milky Way in the radio spectrum, and tracking deep space pulsars.
If you are interested in visiting the InfoAge Science History Learning Center and Museum at Historic Camp Evans, they are open to the public on Wednesdays, Saturdays, and Sundays, from 1-5pm.
To learn more about Camp Evans, Project Diana, the TIROS Satellite project, and InfoAge, tune into this week’s Weekly Space Hangout. This week’s special guest is Stephen Fowler, the Creative Director at InfoAge. He will be chatting with Fraser about the history and plans for Camp Evans and the TIROS dish.
Still want to learn more? Click on any of the links provided in this article, or visit the following sites:
Don’t be surprised if you look up in the Sun’s direction and squint with itchy, watery eyes. You might be staring into billows of tree pollen wafting through your town. It’s certainly been happening where I live.
When conditions are right, billions of microscopic pollen grains consort to create small, oval-shaped rings around a bright Moon during the peak of the spring and early summer allergy season. With the Full Moon coming up this week, there’s no better time to watch for them.
Because they’re often lost in the glare of the Sun or Moon, the key to finding one is to hide the solar or lunar disk behind a thick tree branch, roof or my favorite, the power pole. Look for a telltale oval glow, sometimes tinted with rainbow colors, right up next to the Moon or Sun’s edge. Common halos, those that form when light is refracted by ice crystals, span 44° compared to pollen coronas, which measure just a few degrees in diameter.
To see or photograph coronas, you need plenty of light. The Sun’s ideal, but so is the Moon around full. Fortunately, that happens on June 2, neatly fitting into the sneezing season. Last night, the same grains — most likely pine tree pollen — also stoked a lunar corona. Once my eyes were dark adapted and the Moon hidden by an arboreal occulting instrument (tree branch), it was easy to see.
One of things you’ll notice right away about these biological bullseyes is that they’re not circular. Pollen coronas are oval because the pollen particles are elongated rather than spherical like water droplets. When light from the moon or sun strikes pollen, the minute grains diffract the light into a series of closely-spaced colored rings. I’ve read that pine and birch produce the best coronas, but spruce, alder and and others will work, too.
And here’s another amazing thing about these coronas. You don’t need a transparent medium to produce them. No ice, no water. All that’s necessary are very small, similarly-shaped objects. Light waves are scattered directly off their surfaces; the waves interfere with one another to create a diffraction pattern of colored rings.
Pollen coronas tend to become more elongated when the Sun or Moon is closer to the horizon, so look be on the lookout during those times for more extreme shapes. For some reason I’ve yet to discover, pollen disks sometimes exhibit “bumps” or extensions at their tops, bottoms and sides.
So many of us suffer from allergies, perhaps the glowing presence of what’s causing all the inflammation will serve as partial compensation for our misery.
Over the centuries, humans have attempted to link the phases of the Moon—especially the onset of the Full Moon—with terrestrial affairs. Heck, terms such as lunacy have even entered into the common lexicon, citing a supposed connection between insanity brought on by the Moon. And we’ve long heard anecdotal tales from police and late shift delivery room workers, who swear that everything, from crime rates to delivery room admissions increase around a Full Moon.
A 2004 study published in a nursing journal looking at admissions in a hospital in Barcelona, Spain cited a similar phenomenon.
So, what is this lunacy?
A recent study out of the UCLA caught our eye addressing this same issue. UCLA professor of planetary astronomy Jean-Luc Margot took a fresh look at the data from the 2004 study and found not only flaws in the correlation and data analysis in the 2004 study, but no link between the onset of the Full Moon and a spike in hospital admissions. We agree that looking at one hospital unit in Barcelona hardly constitutes a large data set. This also backs up a larger 40 year-old UCLA meta-study which found no correlation between the timing of births and the lunar cycle.
“The Moon is innocent,” Margot said, exonerating our celestial companion in a UCLA press release.
Blame our good friend and logical fallacy confirmation bias. Also known as the gambler’s fallacy, this occurs when we tend to count the hits but not the misses. When a topic such as a link between the Full Moon and a given activity comes up, we search back in our memory—which in and of itself is much more frangible than we’d like to think—and selectively remember all of the times that a Full Moon occurred when (pick your stated bias) occurred. And keep in mind, a Full Moon is only the technical instant when the Moon is opposite to the Sun and merely appears fully illuminated as seen from our Earthly perspective. That’s 180 degrees solar elongation, if you want to be precise. Of course, the orbit of the Moon is tilted about 5 degrees relative to the ecliptic, meaning that it’s only precisely opposite to the Sun during a central total lunar eclipse, when it’s immersed in the shadow of the Earth. Though the Moon approaches it, it never really reaches 100% illumination as seen from the Earth!
So much for werewolves…
The Moon also appears pretty darned close to Full on days it isn’t on the dates surrounding this instant in time. We say the Moon is then either waxing gibbous (headed towards Full) or waning gibbous (after Full).
Here’s what the Full Moon doesn’t do, though we’ve heard ‘em all over the years: Increase birth rates, criminal activity, cause an increase in car accidents, cause a spike in earthquake activity, or affect fishing expedition outcomes. Well, OK, you might have more success finding your way back to shore using the moonlight as a guide if you stay out after dark…
A 2013 Swiss study in the journal of Current Biology has suggested a possible link between lunar and human sleep cycles, though again, this is very tentative. (thanks to K.E.M Lindblom @the_egghunter on Twitter for bringing this one to our attention.)
Update: Astronomer Jean-Luc Margot has brought it the attention of Universe Today that said lunar sleep study has been debunked last year.
So, what does the Moon do? Well, for one, it does a great job stabilizing the Earth’s rotational axis over the long term. One only has the look at moonless Mars (for the sake of this discussion, the tiny captured asteroids Phobos and Deimos do not count) to see what variations in the axial tilt of our world would be like without the Moon. And certain species of sea turtles along the Florida Gulf Coast do, in fact, hatch right around the time on the spring Full Moon. The Moon also provides us with a nifty celestial timekeeper: a good example is the Muslim calendar, which is based solely on the cycle of the Moon. The Full Moon also provided the human species with a fine study of celestial mechanics 101. Newton would’ve had a much tougher prospect figuring out his laws of gravity in its absence.
And finally, the Full Moon does affect the migratory patterns of deep sky astrophotographers, as they ‘pack it in’ in the weeks around the light polluting Full Moon, perchance to process and clean up images.. .
All thoughts to ponder on the next Full Moon, which occurs on June 2nd… at 16:22 UT/12:22 AM EDT, to be precise.
So, as with all things that arc towards the astrological, we’ll defer to Shakespeare, who said, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars… but in ourselves. “
16th century Spanish explorer Juan Ponce de León looked and looked but never did find the Fountain of Youth, a spring rumored to restore one’s youth if you bathed or drank from its waters. If he had, I might have interviewed him for this story.
Sunday night, another symbol of youth beckons skywatchers the world over. A fresh-faced, day-young crescent Moon will hang in the western sky in the company of the planets Mars and Mercury. While I can’t promise a wrinkle-free life, sighting it may send a tingle down your spine reminding you of why you fell in love with astronomy in the first place.
The Moon reaches New Moon phase on Saturday, April 18 during the early afternoon for North and South America. By sunset Sunday, the fragile crescent will be about 29 hours old as seen from the East Coast, 30 for the Midwest, 31 for the mountain states and 32 hours for the West Coast. Depending on where you live, the Moon will hover some 5-7° (three fingers held at arm’s length) above the northwestern horizon 40 minutes after sunset. To make sure you see it, find a location with a wide-open view to the west-northwest.
While the crescent is illuminated by direct sunlight, you’ll also see the full outline of the Moon thanks to earthshine. Sunlight reflected off Earth’s globe faintly illuminates the portion of the Moon not lit by the Sun. Because it’s twice-reflected, the light looks more like twilight. Ghostly. Binoculars will help you see it best.
Now that you’ve found the dainty crescent, slide your eyes (or binoculars) to the right. That pinpoint of light just a few degrees away is Mars, a planet that’s lingered in the evening sky longer than you’ve promised to clean out the garage. The Red Planet shone brightly at opposition last April but has since faded and will soon be in conjunction with the Sun. Look for it to return bigger and brighter next May when it’s once again at opposition.
To complete the challenge, you’ll have to look even lower in the west to spot Mercury. Although brighter than Vega, it’s only 3° high 40 minutes after sunset Sunday. Its low altitude makes it Mercury is only just returning to the evening sky in what will become its best appearance at dusk for northern hemisphere skywatchers in 2015.
Right now, because of altitude, the planet’s a test of your sky and observing chops, but let the Moon be your guide on Sunday and you might be surprised. In the next couple weeks, Mercury vaults from the horizon, becoming easier and easier to see. Greatest elongation east of the Sun occurs on the evening of May 6. Although the planet will be highest at dusk on that date, it will have faded from magnitude -0.5 to +1.2. By the time it leaves the scene in late May, it will become very tricky to spot at magnitude +3.5.
Mercury’s a bit different from Venus, which is brighter in its crescent phase and faintest at “full”. Mercury’s considerably smaller than Venus and farther from the Earth, causing it to appear brightest around full phase and faintest when a crescent, even though both planets are largest and closest to us when seen as crescents.
Venus makes up for its dwindling girth by its size and close proximity to Earth. It also doesn’t hurt that it’s covered in highly reflective clouds. Venus reflects about 70% of the light it receives from the Sun; Mercury’s a dark world and gives back just 7%. That’s dingier than the asphalt-toned Moon!
Good luck in your mercurial quest. We’d love to hear your personal stories of the hunt — just click on Comments.
KENNEDY SPACE CENTER, FL – After a 24 hour delay due to threatening clouds, a SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket soared spectacularly to orbit from the Florida Space coast today, April 14, carrying a Dragon on a science supply run bound for the the International Space Station that will help pave the way for deep space human missions to the Moon, Asteroids and Mars.
Meanwhile, SpaceX’s bold attempt to land and recover the 14 story tall first stage of the Falcon 9 rocket successfully reached a tiny ocean floating barge in the Atlantic Ocean, but tilted over somewhat over in the final moments of the approach, and tipped over after landing and broke apart. Here’s a Vine video posted on Twitter by Elon Musk:
See the video of the launch, below.
SpaceX will continue with attempt to soft land and recover the rocket on upcoming launches, which was a secondary goal of the company. SpaceX released some imagery and video with a few hours of the landing attempt.
“Looks like Falcon landed fine, but excess lateral velocity caused it to tip over post landing,” tweeted SpaceX CEO Elon Musk.
The Falcon 9 first stage was outfitted with four landing legs and grid fins to enable the landing attempt, which is a secondary objective of SpaceX.
The top priority was to safely launch the Falcon 9 and deliver critical supplies to the station with the Dragon cargo vessel.
“Five years ago this week, President Obama toured the same SpaceX launch pad used today to send supplies, research and technology development to the ISS,” said NASA Administrator Charles Bolden.
“Back then, SpaceX hadn’t even made its first orbital flight. Today, it’s making regular flights to the space station and is one of two American companies, along with The Boeing Company, that will return the ability to launch NASA astronauts to the ISS from U.S. soil and land then back in the United States. That’s a lot of progress in the last five years, with even more to come in the next five.”
“Looks like Falcon landed fine, but excess lateral velocity caused it to tip over post landing,” tweeted SpaceX CEO Elon Musk.
A chase plane captured dramatic footage of the landing on the ocean going platform known as the ‘autonomous spaceport drone ship’ (ASDS).
It was pre-positioned some 200 to 250 miles offshore of the Carolina coast in the Atlantic Ocean along the rockets flight path flying along the US Northeast coast to match that of the ISS.
The ASDS measures only 300 by 100 feet, with wings that extend its width to 170 feet.
Overall CRS-6 is the sixth SpaceX commercial resupply services mission and the seventh trip by a Dragon spacecraft to the station since 2012.
CRS-6 marks the company’s sixth operational resupply mission to the ISS under a $1.6 Billion contract with NASA to deliver 20,000 kg (44,000 pounds) of cargo to the station during a dozen Dragon cargo spacecraft flights through 2016 under NASA’s original Commercial Resupply Services (CRS) contract.
Dragon is packed with more than 4,300 pounds (1915 kilograms) of scientific experiments, technology demonstrations, crew supplies, spare parts, food, water, clothing and assorted research gear for the six person Expedition 43 and 44 crews serving aboard the ISS.
After a three day orbital chase, the Dragon spacecraft with rendezvous with the million post Earth orbiting outpost Friday morning April 17.
After SpaceX engineers on the ground maneuver the Dragon close enough to the station, European Space Agency (ESA) astronaut Samantha Cristoforetti will use the station’s 57.7-foot-long (17-meter-long) robotic arm to reach out and capture Dragon at approximately 7 a.m. EDT on April 17.
Cristoforetti will be assisted by fellow Expedition 43 crew member and NASA astronaut
Terry Virts, as they work inside the stations seven windowed domed cupola to berth Dragon at the Earth-facing port of the Harmony module.
Watch for Ken’s continuing onsite coverage of the CRS-6 launch from the Kennedy Space Center and Cape Canaveral Air Force Station.
Stay tuned here for Ken’s continuing Earth and planetary science and human spaceflight news.
Learn more about SpaceX, Mars rovers, Orion, Antares, MMS, NASA missions and more at Ken’s upcoming outreach events:
Apr 18/19: “Curiosity explores Mars” and “NASA Human Spaceflight programs” – NEAF (NorthEast Astronomy Forum), 9 AM to 5 PM, Suffern, NY, Rockland Community College and Rockland Astronomy Club
Millions of viewers across the western United States and across the Pacific, to include Australia and New Zealand were treated to a fine Easter weekend lunar eclipse on Saturday. And while this was the third of the ongoing tetrad of four lunar eclipses, it was definitely worth getting up early for and witnessing firsthand.
But was it truly total at all?
To Recap: The April 4th eclipse featured the shortest advertised duration for totality for the 21st century, clocking in at just four minutes and 43 seconds in length. In fact, you’d have to go all the way back to 1529 to find a shorter span of totality, at one minute and 42 seconds. And you’ll have to wait until September 11th, 2155 to find one that tops it in terms of brevity.
A fascinating discussion as to whether this was a de facto total lunar eclipse has recently sprung up on the message boards and a recent Sky and Telescopearticle online.
It all has to do with how you gauge the shape and size of the Earth’s shadow.
This is a surprisingly complex affair, as the Earth’s atmosphere gives the umbra a ragged and indistinct edge. If you’ve ever taken our challenge to determine your longitude using a lunar eclipse — just as mariners such as Christopher Columbus did while at sea — then you know how tough it is to get precise contact timings. There has been an ongoing effort over the years to model the size changes in Earth’s shadow using crater contact times during a lunar eclipse.
Many observers have commented in forums and social media that the northern limb of the Moon stayed pretty bright throughout the brief stretch of totality for Saturday’s eclipse.
“There are 3 ways of computing the magnitude of a lunar eclipse,” Eclipse expert David Herald mentioned in a recent Solar Eclipse Message List (SEML) posting:
The ‘traditional’ way as used in the Astronomical Almanac is attributed to Chauvenet – where the umbral radius is increased by a simple 2% – with the radius being based on the Earth’s radius at 45 deg latitude (and otherwise the oblateness of the Earth is ignored). For this eclipse the Chauvenet magnitude was 1.005.
The second way (used in the French Almanac, and more recently by Espenak & Meeus in their ‘Five Millennium Canon of Lunar Eclipses’ is the Danjon method. It similarly uses the Earth’s radius at 45 deg (and otherwise the oblateness is ignored), and increases the Earth’s radius by 75km. For this eclipse the Danjon magnitude is 1.001
The most recent approach (Herald & Sinnott JBAA 124-5 pgs 247-253, 2014) is based on the Danjon approach; however it treats the Earth as oblate, allows for the varying inclination of the Earth relative to the Sun during the year, and increases the Earth’s radius by 87km – being the best fit to 22,539 observations made between 1842 and 2011. For this eclipse the magnitude is computed as 1.002.
“As for eclipses, to me it is total when sliver of light comes through the edge of the Earth’s profile,” eclipse chaser Patrick Poitevin told Universe Today. “Once a minimum of light passes through any of the lunar dales (as it does during a total solar eclipse) I do not concede it as a total. Same for a lunar eclipse.”
Michael Zeiler at the Great American Eclipse also had this to say to Universe Today about the subject:
This is a complex question because the shape of the Earth’s umbra upon the Moon is diffuse due to the effects of the Earth’s atmosphere. The various models used (with corrected radii for the Earth) are empirically based on crater timings of past lunar eclipses, of which there is some uncertainty. I’m sure this accounted for the difference between the USNO duration of eclipse and NASA.
The comment (in the recent Sky & Telescope post online) by Curt Renz is valid; correcting for the Earth’s flattening (meaning that the Earth’s radius from pole to pole is about a third of a percent shorter than the radius across the equator) might influence whether this very low magnitude eclipse is total or not. I haven’t made the calculation whether the Earth’s flattening tips this eclipse from total to partial, but it’s plausible.
There is another wrinkle: due to parallactic shifts of the Moon when observing from either pole of the Earth, it might be that for a lunar eclipse right on the knife edge of total/partial, that it may indeed be total from one polar region and partial from another. This is a kind of libration, but it would be a very subtle difference and probably unobservable.
It is only possible to conclusively define Saturday’s eclipse as total or partial if you define a brightness threshold for the Sun’s photosphere illuminating an edge of the Moon. The problem here is that this line is indistinct and fuzzy. I watched the lunar eclipse carefully with this question in mind and I could not decide for myself whether this lunar eclipse was total or partial. I think it would require a photometer to make this distinction.
Certainly, there’s little record of just how the 102 second long lunar eclipse of 1529 appeared. Ironically, it too was a total eclipse near sunrise as seen from Europe. On the other side of the coin, the deep partial eclipse of August 26th, 1961 just missed totality at 98.6% obscuration… and the two lunar eclipses in 2021 have similar circumstances, with a barely total lunar eclipse just 15 minutes long on May 26th and a 97.4% partial lunar eclipse on November 19th.
So maybe we won’t have to wait until 2155 to see another brief lunar eclipse that blurs the lines and refuses to play by the rules.
What do you, the readers think? What did you see last Saturday morn, a bright total lunar eclipse, or a deep partial?