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I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber. Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither
slumber nor sleep. The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite
thee by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. The
Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore. -- Psalm
121 IN THIS UPDATE Beautiful Texas Texas Eclipse Hello Friends, The partial phase of last week's annular eclipse was a total washout here in Cleveland. And it was a non-event in the local media. This was disappointing as I hoped it would be a springboard to the big event next April. But I wasn't even in Cleveland. Instead, I traded the gloomy autumn shores of the Great Lakes for the sunny skies of Texas. It was a fine day for a solar eclipse and the annular event was as
interesting a sight as could be expected.
For more information about topics from Classical Astronomy discussed in this newsletter, please check out a homeschool astronomy curriculum (but popular with adult readers too!) Visit our archive of previous editions of the Classical Astronomy Update newsletters, going back to 2007. *****
Beautiful Texas (This section is not the usual astronomy newsletter content, a travelogue of my brief visit to the Lone Star State. This section is just for fun, hope everyone can appreciate my sense of humor. You can skip along to the
astronomy recap which follows in the next section below.) I've travelled very little in my life, and such travel has been mostly by car. I dislike flying. I hate airports and TSA and cramming into a flying sardine can. And besides, I don't have money or time off from my day job for vacations anyway. So my meager travel has mostly been east of the Mississippi. But I did fulfill a lifelong bucket list item in March, 2022 when we drove from Ohio to California -- 13 days, 15
states and 6270.3 miles. Along that trip we swung down to spend a day with our friends Mark and Leslie in San Antonio, Texas. They took us around to the Alamo and the Riverwalk, the usual "city" stuff that one
hears of in San Antonio. The Alamo is a worthy historical destination, but its setting was unexpected. Having learned of the doomed heroes including Davey Crockett and Jim Bowie who battled the overwhelming army of General Santa Anna, I imagined them fighting in a wide open area. I was therefore surprised to see that a modern city has grown up around that site over the last 185 years. Today you can grab a latte or sandwich across from where those brave fighters fell.
But contrary to the Mills Brothers' song, there is no alley by the Alamo. Half the businesses in San Antonio are named for that famous Spanish mission, so the roads are dotted with signs like "Alamo Muffler and Brake" and "Alamo Plumbing." So you can't help but to "Remember the Alamo" as you cruise the streets of San Antone. I was so impressed with our whirlwind whistlestop that I promised to revisit San Antonio real soon. And the annular eclipse was a good excuse to hang out. Mark is one of my eclipse friends, and we speak often, though our in-person visits are sadly infrequent. Mark is an eclipse filmmaker, and he's done some brilliant work. I
highly recommed watching his Easter Island Eclipse produced for National Geographic. It's a great documentary that will help your family learn and prepare for next April's total solar eclipse. Please visit Mark's Vimeo channel and his site Eclipse Across America. Here's Mark standing by my rental. The airport didn't have the minivan I reserved so the rental guy said, "you don't really want a minivan anyway, do you?" Well, actually no, who
would? So at no extra charge, they bumped me up to a Grand Cherokee -- a Texas-sized vehicle. We always hear that Texas is a big state and therefore everything is big in Texas. But let's not forget that Alaska is a much bigger state, nearly the size of the entrire eastern USA. So a comparably scaled-up rental upgrade in Alaksa would be an Abrams tank.
Mark's a pretty mellow guy for a Texan but he's still true to form. He told me that Ohio is "Northeast Texas." He once told a German friend that that country is "East Texas." Now I'm sure I can speak for everyone from the other 49 states that we all collectively roll our eyes when Texans get going about Texas. I once had a lady from Texas
inform me that Texas has the ONLY flag allowed to fly full staff, level with Old Glory, since Texas had once been its own country. (Hmmm, never heard that about Hawaii even though it had once been a kingdom.) But we
Ohioans are nonetheless rather fond of our Buckeye State where we claim 8 presidents, great inventors like the Wright Brothers and Thomas Edison, famous astronauts including John Glenn and Neil Armstrong, and notable Union generals such as U.S. Grant and William Tecumseh Sherman, even though their memory is not as celebrated in other states such as Georgia. I once met a gentleman from Georgia who explained that even when you're in Alabama, Mississipi, Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona
and California, you're still in Georgia, since the original royal colonial land grant extended all the way west to the Pacific. (The same could be said of several other original colonies, but Georgia must be special like that.) Well, I'll just sit back and let Texas and Georgia hash that one out. So anyway, when I saw that Lone Star flag fluttering in the breeze, I told Mark that I finally understood it -- it's just an ordinary American flag as viewed through the lens of Texas -- one star in a field of blue for the only state that matters, and instead of 13 red and white stripes for the original colonies, it's got one white stripe for Texas and one red stripe for Texas. "Exactly," Mark confirmed,
"Texas is the whole planet, the galaxy, the universe." So if there really are aliens out there, I guess that'd make them Texans too. Not sure if that's good or bad. So anyway, I arrived on Thursday, ahead of the
Saturday eclipse, and Mark asked what I wanted to do on Friday. I'm not a big fan of cities. Seen one, seen 'em all. All American cities have the same basic Lego blocks but arranged differently than home -- a strip mall over here, a freeway over there, a downtown with different Lego block buildings, and "indoor" man-made attactions. So I asked Mark to show me some of the natural wonders of Texas away from town. Whenever I travel, I'm always fascinated by what the
locals consider "normal" that's different from my own normal in Cleveland, all the mundane background details of the surroundings that people take for granted. I was pleased seeing the "normal" of San Antonio. We walked
through nearby San Pedro Springs Park which was filled with these bizarre trees, which Leslie later informed me were "Live Oaks." They have a small trunk and branches as thick as the trunk, which get so heavy they just fall over and sag down onto the ground and keep growing like that. They can get all gnarly and twisted like something out of the Wizard of Oz, or Tolkien's Fangorn Forest. I come to find out that Live Oaks are the predominant life form in that part of Texas, and
they also grow along the Gulf and Atlantic coasts all the way up to Virginia.
I was perstering Mark the entire time -- "What kind of flower is that? What kind of bird is that? What kind of bug is that?" Mark had no idea. It got to be funny after a while. He's a brilliant photographer and filmmaker but he was no help with
the local flora and fauna. I also saw crepe myrtle which I had previously seen in Georgia, and bougainvillea which I discovered last year in California, after similarly pestering our friend, longtime Update reader Wendy from San Diego. So after a while we hit the road north deep into Texas Hill Country. What a beautiful region! But Texas must be a pretty flat state if that's the hill country. It was about a hilly as the rolling terrain of my own Northeast Ohio, which is not considered hilly at all by the standards of our neighboring states, Pennsylvania and West Virginia, where you'd be hard pressed to find a straight, level quarter mile of road in either
state. We had lunch at the Black Board Bar B
Q in Sisterdale, TX. In typically blunt Texas fashion, the sign out front proudly proclaims, "Our food does not suck!" (Please pardon the expression, ladies!) This struck me like a used car salesman assuring you, "Hey, I'm an honest guy!" But the food surely did not! This is a fine eatery, highly recommended, where one single meal entails a week's ration of protein as found in most other nations of
the world. So be sure to stop by next time you're in Sisterdale. Further on down the road was a little pitstop by the name of Luckenbach, Texas. Mark and Leslie said, "You know, like the famous song."
So I was like, "What famous song? Never heard of it." Well you see friends, I'm a TOTAL Yankee. I can't go much further north without getting wet, and if I go further north still, I'm in the Great White North of Canada. So I learned that day of the famous country and western song Luckenbach, Texas by Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson released in 1977, nearly a half century ago, totally unbeknownst to me. Well now that explains everything. I'm a city slicker from the frozen northern wastes, and nothing personal, folks, but country music just does not pertain to me. Gangster rap similarly does not pertain to me either. My hometown fancies itself to be "The Rock N Roll Capital of the World" and has a Hall of Fame to that effect. Have you ever heard "Cleveland Rocks" by Ian Hunter? Or the Michael Stanley Band, the
Pretenders, the James Gang, Glass Harp, Devo or Donnie Iris? How about Pere Ubu? Anyone?... Anyone?.... Well, those were bands of the Northeast Ohio rock music scene back in my day. Reminds me of the time we
stayed at a Super 8 motel somewhere down south and the desk clerk said to me, "You don't even know where you are, do you? You're in Mooresville, North Carolina, home of NASCAR." Nope, didn't know that either! Um, that has something to do with racing cars, right? Well I'm not totally hopeless, at least I enjoy having grits whenever I'm a Waffle House down south. Here you see the tiny little Post Office (with Live Oaks) at the famous place. There's also a tiny little music stage and a tiny little gift shop. And a tiny little parking lot. Not much else. I mentioned this place to several of my Yankee friends here in Cleveland, and they're all like, "Oh sure,
Luckenbach, Texas, I've head of that place. It's really famous." So I'm apparently the last Yankee on Earth who lives under a rock!
Had a ball wheeling my Grand Cherokee rental down the winding back roads of Texas at 70 mph! Yee haw! At several points on the road, grand panoramic vistas opened up before us, the entire landscape covered with Live Oaks all the way to the horizon. After a
brief stop in Fredericksburg, Texas (birthplace of World War 2 Fleet Admiral Chester Nimitz), we headed toward our destination, Enchanted Rock. It literally is just a big rock, the largest rock I'd ever seen, a Texas-sized rock, protruding
425 feet above the terrain of Texas Hill Country, north of San Antonio and east of Austin. The picture below does NOT do it justice! It looms overhead like a skyscraper, a huge dome made entirely out of pink granite, thrust upwards through the Earth's crust as a part of a geological formation called the Llano Uplift.
It's an easy hike to the top, even for a decrepit geriatric case such as myself. The grade is smooth and gentle and you can find a level route over the steeper
parts. There's no specific trail since you're literally walking on a solid granite roack face. I kept looking down at my feet to see the familiar pink with black flecks, identical to the small granite cobblestones found everywhere in the soil of Cleveland, purportedly transported 1000 miles south from the Canadian Shield by the mammoth glacier that once carved out Lake Erie. However, There are spots along Enchanted Rock like the pic below where patchy growth can be found.
These scenes are right out of a western movie, as if John Wayne's hacienda is about to be attacked by Comanches.
There are smaller green patches near the top where cactus grows, and even a shallow pond filled with wiggling tadpoles! Near the summit, it's almost entirely
bare rock so you can see to the horizon in all directions. This will be a FANTASTIC location to view the 2024 total solar eclipse. Nearly along the centerline, those observers will have 4 minutes and 25 seconds of totality, and a broad panoramic view of the umbra racing toward the Rock at 2000 miles per hour. Mark is hoping to secure a reservation when that opens in a couple weeks, and I'm sure he will obtain some SPECTACULAR footage of the scene. I'd be so tempted to join him,
but I'm committed to staying home to witness this special event from Cleveland.
Growing up in Cleveland, I had a media-driven impression that Texas was "nothin' but 900 miles of brown dirt." And while there is a lot of that, there is
so much unique natural beauty in Texas that I never could have imagined. Last year we also saw Dallas and West Texas, some very diverse terrain in those areas. Still haven't seen the Pandhandle or the Gulf Coast. Hoping that the LORD permits us another opportunity to further explore the beautiful and fascinating Lone Star State of Texas. Thanks to all our Texas readers for tolerating some good-natured ribbing of your fine state! Here's my blog from two years ago where I make fun of California. Texas Eclipse Texas
Hill Country has the distinction of being the "Eclipse Crossroads" for the 2023 and 2024 eclipses. The area just south of Enchanted Rock including Fredericksburg encompasses the intersection of the path of annularity of the
eclipse just past and the path of totality of the April 8 eclipse. So folks in that area are in for a double treat, less than six months apart. We were in Boerne, Texas (pronounced "Bernie") on Eclipse Day 2023. Though
clouds were forecast, the day turned out to be pristine -- the kind of weather we're praying for in Cleveland for April 8. I'll get to my pix in a little while, but first here's some pix submitted from readers of the Classical Astronomy Update. We got these pix from Miner Family in Florence, Arizona: We tried a few methods for viewing, a basic pinhole cardboard, a welding helmet (a cool way to look directly at the sun), but our favorite
was projecting through our telescope onto a white background. That method was fun because all of us from greatest to smallest could see, we could take pictures of the projection, and because it was magnified through the telescope optics, we could see relief on the edge of the lunar shadow, and even sunspots on the sun near the limb.
Near max occlusion. If you zoom in on that picture, look toward the top of the sun, by the shadow. You will see a small fuzzy spot, which we are pretty sure is a sunspot. No amount of lens cleaning/adjustment moved that spot or made it go away. Sunspots only appeared near the limb, where it was shaded enough to be able to see detail. It was a neat thing to be able to see! We are excited to get all our “kit” out again next year for the eclipse in April!
Projected images are cool, but don't attempt pointing a telescope at the Sun unless you know EXACTLY what you're doing! I don't trust myself to do such a
thing! We also got this slick pic from Paula at Science Lab Tutorials in Rowlett, Texas who writes: We only had an 80% or so view in the Dallas area, but I got a few pictures that I complied of the eclipse. It was a good dress rehearsal for April! Just wanted to send a compilation of what I saw.
We got a boatload of images from Jacob in Austin, Texas who viewed the eclipse from Fredericksburg. Jacob leads off with this Texas-like greeting: Howdy Jay, Had a blast watching the Annular Eclipse today, thanks again for your wonderful newsletter last week with excellent diagrams and explanations explaining the phenomenon! Since I live pretty close to the main eclipse path here in Texas, I figured you might like some pictures from someone in the “ring of fire” zone to see a different perspective of the event. I also did some experimenting during the eclipse as well, I
already knew about diffraction patterns but I saw some unique applications of the effect which I have not noticed in past eclipses. I viewed the main eclipse from a city park in Fredericksburg, Texas
with a small crowd of assorted onlookers. I had to drive a couple hours from the area north of Austin to get far enough south for full eclipse, and it was fun seeing random people in parking lots for stores and churches with funny glasses gazing upward on my way down. Was a bit late getting off but stopped in Johnson City shortly after I knew the eclipse start would occur, and took a couple pics of barely eclipsed state (timestamps in photo names are local CT time). Camera was just a Pixel Pro
smartphone held up to a pair of eclipse glasses (worked great but I tried to help someone else with their phone and could not get the zoom to lock on for more than a golden smear, so your mileage with smartphone cameras may vary depending on model).
Unlike Jacob, I had zero success holding up my lousy flip phone with a pair of Eclipse Shades. But his sequence is a really great result! All I was able to capture was some projected images, as shown below. Jacob made this cool observation of eclipse
crescents through the holes in an ordinary street sign, based on the "pinhole camera" principle, projected down onto that Texas brown dirt mentioned above: There was a cool expansion of this concept though, as there was
one of those posts used to hold street signs or construction markers nearby, with mounting holes all the way up its length. Based on the angle of the sun shadows to the post, saw a gradient from crisp normal hole shadows up the pole to blurrier crescent shadows. Neat to see so clearly how viewing angle affects the light patterns.
Jacob also made this interesting observation of lens flare revealing the crescent eclipse phase: The last interesting thing I saw was that when taking pictures without the eclipse glasses (mainly to show difference in light levels for reference), the camera occasionally showed lens flares. Each had the same crescent shape as the eclipse shadow at that moment, another neat
lighting effect. Lens flare is caused by internal reflections between individual lenses in a compound lens system, producing fainter, offset images from the main light source, i.e., the Sun. You can't see the
crescent in the direct image of the Sun because it's just too bright, but the fainter lens flare images are at a tolerable brightness level for the camera (or the human eye) to see.
The images below were captured by Mark from our observing site. The top is my snap of his viewing screen, and the bottom shows his captured image. You can
see lens flare in both. The below image captures the precise moment of C2, second contact, the start of annularity, when the trailing edge of the Moon is first within the disc of the Sun. This image is terribly
exciting because the Sun's chromosphere is visible along the rim of the Moon, a sight normally seen with the unaided eye during totality. Look at those pretty pink patches along the eclipsed limb of the Sun, two small prominences at about 1 o'clock and a big prominence at 3 o'clock. I had not previously understood that this was even possible, such a cool thing to discover.
For a sneak preview of viewing the chromosphere during totality, check out our educational animated video The Eclipse Experience at our eclipse website. The eclipse began with the Moon
contacting the very top of the Sun, and the partial phase progressing vertically downward across the disc of the Sun. I'd never seen a configuration like that before. My low-tech setup did not allow any worthwhile pictures. Here's a view of eclipse crescents projected through Leslie's collander, based on the "pinhole camera" principle:
I also snapped a series of eclipse phases projected onto the ground through tree leaves. You can see the eclipse progression from the changing orientation of the eclipse crescents, and a brief view of eclipse rings at the point of annularity, with the red circles
depicting the general shape. There are a couple decent rings in the middle image, though many are not complete.
Here's an animated GIF from TwitterX showing the progression of the
projected crescent images. Many thanks to Mark, Jacob, Paula and the Miner Family for your contributions! And thanks to Mark and Leslie for their kind hospitality! We'll keep everyone posted as Eclipse Day 2024 approaches! Till next time, God bless and clear skies, - jay The Ryan Family Cleveland, Ohio, USA When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained, what is man that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him? - Psalm 8:3-4, a Psalm of David |
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