- A review of the Unistellar EVscope
- Astrotrac 360 tracking platform – first impression
- FIELD TEST: CARL ZEISS APOCHROMATIC & SHARPEST (CZAS) BINOVIEWER
- Omegon 32mm 70º SWA eyepiece review
- Review of iPolar hardware and software for polar alignment
- Review of the Hubble Optics 14 inch, f/4.6 Premium Ultra Light Dobsonian Tele...
- My experience with the Starizona Landing Pad
- A quick Review of the MIGHTY MAX 12V 100AH BATTERY
- Nexus II Review
- New Moon Telescopes 20”F/3.3 Review
- FIELD TEST OF THE BAADER MAXBRIGHT® II BINOVIEWER
- My Experience using SkyWatch for the Alphea All Sky Camera from Alcor Systems
- Astroart 7 - A Review and "How To" (Part 1)
- My experience using two 80-millimeter long-focus refractors
- GSO 8-inch TRUE CASSEGRAIN
CNers have asked about a donation box for Cloudy Nights over the years, so here you go. Donation is not required by any means, so please enjoy your stay.
If you're like me, you have probably seen Jupiter, Saturn, the Orion Nebula, and all of the sky's showpiece objects more times than you can count. And while they are truly spectacular and well worth revisiting, you may be looking for something new, something challenging to observe.
The sky is full of weird sights. And among planetary nebulae, NGC 6445 is one of the strangest. Discovered by William Herschel on May 28, 1786, NGC 6445 shines at 11th magnitude. That's bright enough to be seen even through giant binoculars. Although visible in smaller apertures, it takes a 6-inch telescope for NGC 6445's true, if bizarre, nature to shine through. The nebula's brighter central shell looks like a dented rectangle. Nature rarely creates an amorphous form with sharp edges, and indeed, the peculiar appearance of NGC 6445 is due largely to our perspective as well as its age. But the look is very odd nonetheless. No wonder NGC 6445 has been nicknamed the Box Nebula.
Seyfert's Sextet, known to many as Hickson Compact Galaxy Group 79, is a tight gathering of galaxies in the northern corner of Serpens Caput. Serpens Caput is the western segment of this bisected constellation, marking the triangular head of the serpent that Ophiuchus is handling. Observing Seyfert's Sextet has been one of my pet projects for years. It's a fun little galactic rat pack for summer outings before we plunge headlong into the summer Milky Way.
What is your favorite lunar feature? Maybe it's the mighty craters Copernicus or Tycho. Or could it be the historic Sea of Tranquility? Perhaps you enjoy visiting the rugged southern highlands around Clavius, or the Apennine and Alp Mountains. If I had to come up with my favorite target, it would have to be a far more modest sight. I always enjoy looking for and at the Straight Wall.
Most agree that the Messier catalog of deep-sky objects stands as the finest single compilation of star clusters, nebulae, and galaxies visible from the northern hemisphere. When it comes time to single out the finest of the list's 109 entries, however, we often have trouble agreeing. Is it the Orion Nebula, M42; the Great Globular Cluster, M13; or maybe the Ring Nebula, M57? So many choices! One thing is for certain -- you'll never find Messier's 40th entry on anyone's "finest" list.
You have undoubtedly heard of the Leo Trio, made up of M65, M66, and NGC 3628. But how about the Leo Trio 2? The Leo Trio 2 are tucked snuggly into the constellation's northernmost quadrant, some 7° north of the Leo "sickle."
The constellation Cancer the Crab may not be much to look at, but it holds some fascinating objects within its emaciated body. Case in point: Arp 82, the 82nd entry in Halton Arp's Atlas of Peculiar Galaxies. Made up of NGC 2535 and NGC 2536, Arp 82 is a strange pair that seems to be experiencing a galactic version of arrested development.
Although most globular clusters line the summer sky as they huddle around the core of our galaxy, there are a few renegades that have stepped out on their own to occupy regions far beyond the rest. One such globular, nestled behind the rich Milky Way star fields of Puppis, is NGC 2298.
Planetary nebula NGC 1535 is a victim of circumstance. Take a look at its facts. Its bluish disk spans about a minute of arc, which is quite large as planetaries go, and shines brightly enough to be visible through giant binoculars. Its central star glows at magnitude 11.6, creating a surreal scene resembling a disembodied human eye, which led to the nickname "Cleopatra's Eye." Those in the know rate NGC 1535 as one of the sky's finest planetary nebulae. Yet this enticing target remains unknown to many backyard stargazers.
As 2019 draws to an end, let's talk about a first. I am always interested in seeing the first of anything, whether it's the first day of a new year, the opening day of baseball season, the first robin of spring, the first snowflake of winter, or the first object in a particular deep-sky catalog. In the case of the latter, NGC 1, along with NGC 2, create our final challenge of the year.
Of the 27 known satellites in the Uranian family, four stand out, just as the four Galilean satellites do among the Jovian clan. William Herschel discovered the first two Uranian moons on January 11, 1787, six years after he had discovered the planet itself. The next two remained undetected until the British astronomer William Lassell (1799-1880) spotted them on October 24, 1851. It is these four that we hope to catch through our own telescopes.