Simple. Effective. Does what it says on the tin.
Who can argue with that?
Discoveries in the Physics & Astronomy shop | Science, curiosities, and surprises
Simple. Effective. Does what it says on the tin.
Who can argue with that?
The Observatory’s windows have but a single sheet of glass, which leads to some impressive wintry displays when the temperature differential is just right.
New semester, new classes, same old, same old around the shop. It’s not that we don’t notice the passage of time, just more that we’ve always got stuff to do. Things to sort out. Odd gizmos to tinker with.
Such as this wee little astronomy camera. (Much bigger than the camera portion of your phone, of course.) It’s a planetary camera, meaning it’s capable of a high framerate, even in low-light conditions. Unlike stars, which are effectively point sources, planets have visual size and even detail given reasonable magnification. Cool, right?
Of course, there’s this pesky but essential-for-life atmosphere in the way, and the visual wobbliness it produces – known as seeing – can make some photographs of Jupiter look like you’re peering at it from the bottom of a turbulent lake. Nicht so gut.
The simplest solution is to take a lot of pictures, sometimes compiled as a video, and select the very best ones, those moments in time when the seeing was perfect.
Of course, these cameras also work for other purposes, such as all-sky cameras to check for cloud cover at a remote location, or for meteor activity when you’d rather get some shuteye. Or, for kicks, to see one’s office through a fisheye lens.
“Observations of Variable Stars by the American Association of Variable Star Observers”
One would expect there’s no better-qualified group for the task.
We have several boxes of NASA press releases from the height of the space age, for the simple reason that it’s easier to pack things away than to sort and dispose of junk. None of them are worth much, really, but they can be entertaining. Take this, for example, a summary of the Ranger 4 launch. Not mentioned here, but interesting: Ranger 4 was the first US spacecraft to reach another solar system body.
By crashing into the Moon, as intended. You can read more in a brief summary by Leonard David, or by skimming Wikipedia.
Entertaining bits gleaned from the Space Activities Summary:
Hundreds of 50cm lengths of #30 AWG nichrome wire, all twisted up and ready to go? Must be toy kit time!
Nichrome – so named for its mostly-nickel-some-chrome alloy composition* – has a fairly high electrical resistance, high melting point, and the added bonus of its tendency to develop a chromium oxide finish which prevents wee bits from sputtering away when it gets blackbody-in-the-visible-spectrum hot. Hence why it’s used inside toasters as a resistive heating element.
* Depends on the specific alloy, technically. Can be as low as 35% nickel, but an 80-20 alloy is common.
A surprise discovery on a hallway bulletin board at the Observatory: a push pin Big Dipper!
It’s good and charming and subtle, and we can forgive that this version has eight stars instead of the night sky’s seven. (Not counting the visual double of Mizar and Alcor where the handle kinks.) Someone did this on a whim, and now it’s hard to resist the idea of putting up others all over campus to see who notices.
Have a great semester break!
There are many, many reminders in a workshop to wear appropriate protective equipment, and the first time you watch a flying piece of material bounce off of your safety glasses, you’re ever so grateful. This one’s one of our favorites.
Yeah, when you see enough of them, you get opinions on label design quality.
Making an ‘X’ across your telescope’s eyepiece is a handy thing, letting you mark the center instead of eyeballing it. There are all sorts of reasons you might appreciate that little bit of assistance, provided it doesn’t actively interfere with seeing things. So you use as fine a wire as you can. Which is going to break, of course, so keep some spares in the desk drawer.
How thin? This is AWG 53, all of 0.0007 inches thick (0.0178 mm). Enough to make even the finest human hair seem chunky in comparison.
Our Observatory is the second on campus, a replacement for the 1887 original. That one was constructed to house our antique Clark refractor telescope, an early gift from William Bucknell, because it’s really not the sort of instrument you set up on the front lawn when the skies are looking decent.
Here we see the building’s layout as of June, 1959, presumably as discussions were underway regarding the renovations that would begin in 1962. During which one of these walls would collapse, necessitating a relatively hasty pivot to create the current Observatory to maintain the astronomy program. (We’re very grateful for that, sixty years later.)
Should we expect restrooms in an 1889 structure? Which way is north? Did the individual drafting up these plans just not like drawing doors? What’s that unlabeled space “south” of the office? When transitioning a class from the classroom to the observation dome upstairs, do you lead the students through your office or make them go outside? So many questions.