Heartbreak

Yesterday was tough, hearing the news of the school shooting from Tumbler Ridge. In the coming days, there will be plenty of comments on why it happened. Most will not be helpful.

It is tough to comprehend the feelings the people of the small town must be experiencing. The whole of Canada is in mourning for the families touched by this tragedy.

When I was young, I feared many things. Somehow, though, I believed I had a measure of control over those fears. I could outrun them, outthink them, or at least convince myself they were manageable.

I wonder what children think now, growing up in a world where news travels instantly to the palm of their hand. A phone can feed fear twenty-four hours a day. At certain ages, it is easy to focus only on the darkness and not yet understand that life bends back toward light. I suspect many young people feel powerless—not just over the world, but sometimes over their own thoughts and emotions.

If my grandchildren ask about this tragedy, what will I say? How do you promise safety in a world that offers no guarantees?

Lisa and I have tried to make our house a safe place for our grandkids—a place where they know they are loved unconditionally. We try to show them beauty in small things. They help me in the woodpile and the garden. Lisa shows them how to bake and keeps a huge supply of art supplies for any project. We have supper together at least two times a week, where we talk about our day. We want them to feel safe and to feel they have some control, maybe not over the threats of the world, but over how they approach them. All we can do is love them.

Last night, I went looking for stars and peace. It was after midnight but before the moon was up. I could hear the creek flowing under the ice. The mountains were in outline, and the familiar constellations were holding their own.

My mind eased if only momentarily. I stopped before the creek to make sure I didn’t break through the ice in the dark. There may never be true safety. You can only take it all in and know that good will offer a path. It may never be safe all the time, but the more often you look for good, the more often you will find it. Unfortunately there is no consolation for the people of Tumbler Ridge and the families suffering with heart breaking loss.

Clear

Along the great Columbia River where it starts as a trickle.

The first clear night in a long while. Warm weather in winter is usually accompanied by cloud and we have had our share.

It’s tougher to stay up late for Willow and I. We had intended to head into the mountains. But the thought of breaking through snow to the knee stopped me. Willow would have been okay. The warm weather softened the snow, with the cooler weather putting a hard crust on the surface, but not enough to hold me.

We stuck to the valley bottom. And headed for the source of the Columbia River. The warmth has robbed the ground of snow and has left a layer of ice. I walked carefully. I could hear Willow’s nose going constantly. She is slowing down, grateful for the smells that still cause a wag and bark.

The Old Geary Place with Orion standing guard.

The winter stars were out in force. Orion ruled the dim end of the Milky Way, Sirus twinkled so much when I caught it in the corner of my eye I thought it was a falling star. Jupiter shone bright above the great chase.

To see it in force, while I try to make sense of it all, knowing all along it’s all a best guess is somehow comforting.

A fine night to count the stars.

Winter stars and Jupiter. The Beehive Cluster in the top left corner and the Pleiades Cluster in the top right corner.

Winding Down

Finally a good layer of ice on the lake. Providing there is no snow tonight, Cooper and I will be heading down for a skate. We will have a few pucks to toss back and forth. We might even take the net. You learn fast if you miss it you have to skate a long ways to retrieve the puck.

It’s good to feel the cooler temps.

and now for something completely different

This is a composite made from a photo my son Hunter took in downtown Calgary, and a picture I took of the Milky Way.

There is a photographer who used to do cityscapes with stars in the background. They were compositions when they weren’t easy to do with the software available at the time. He tried to show what cities would look like without light pollution. They were eerie. His name is Thierry Cohen if you want to check him out.

Many, if not most, of the astrophotography photos seen now are composites in one way or the other. Often the landscape is taken in one shot and the sky is taken in another. The time and place of the two or more photos can vary greatly. Like this composite for example.

The problem is composites are often presented as real. There is a photo of a nearby historic town with a well known mountain. Above the mountain the Milky Way shoots straight up in the east. The problem is the Milky Way is never in that position. It is a two photo composite. The photographer never presents it as such. The photo has been on magazine covers and sold as fine art photographs. It is probably one of the most well known photographs of that area. Yet the scene it depicts doesn’t exist. Does that matter as we enter an era of AI produced images? Where it is becoming impossible to tell the difference between what is real?

I have always appreciated documentary style photography. It is what I try to do on this site. It is to show change and also provide a record. That attitude probably comes from my family’s history in newspapers.

With this said, I like Hunter and my collaboration. It is not representative of reality, it is more symbolic. What would a city look like if the lights were off on a clear night? Would the world be a different place if we all could see the stars?

Hunter enjoys mixing music. Like his mixes, like art, like this photo, it is essentially storytelling and exists to make us think.

Comet Hunting

Tried to peek through the clouds to get a glimpse at Comet Lemmon. It hasn’t been easy with clouds rolling in just as it’s been getting dark, however thought I’d give it a try regardless. You’ll never catch fish if you don’t put your line in the water.

As the clouds parted I was able to easily see the comets nucleus. In the photo you can even see it reflected in the river. The tail was harder to see. The camera picked it up nicely even amongst the light pollution of the Village of Radium Hot Springs.

Just a word about light pollution; it was interesting to have been in Waterton recently and saw how they have tried to limit light pollution. They are part of a dark sky reserve and it is important to them. In the Windermere Valley light pollution gets brought up occasionally but never gets much traction. The only way it ever will is by showing decision makers that there is some profit in shining lights down. That is a tough sell in a valley growing as fast as this one.

Speaking of pollution, notice the ‘scratches’ in the sky around Comet Lemmon. These are Starlink satellites. It is amazing and annoying how many are in low orbit around the earth. It is almost impossible to look into a darkened sky without seeing them now. This is only going to get worse as Starlink continues to launch thousands more and other countries and companies begin to launch their own version of Starlink.

Without regulations or common sense it may become impossible, in the future, to enjoy the stars, meteor showers and visiting comets, as the night sky fills with streaking satellites. Humans should be ashamed of polluting the atmosphere, oceans, water and land, instead of giving it a second thought, however, we have moved onto corrupting the space and stars above us.

I would still like to get a better look at Comet Lemmon, but my chances are limited as it gets closer to the sun and our weather fails to improve.

Orion

Another beautiful morning. Deep blue skies. The moon is closing in on the sun as it wanes to a thin crescent.

It is time to get the carrots out of the ground and plant next year’s garlic. The garden is getting too big for Lisa and I. Not so much the looking after it but the food it produces. I may have to reevaluate it next year.

Orion is beaming in the mornings. Wintermaker, as a good blogging friend calls it. A much more apt name. It is tough to not be drawn into all it’s mystery, legend and science that accompanies it rising and setting in it’s own season.

C/2025 A6 Lemmon

Comet Lemmon (upper left) seemingly following the same trajectory as a satellite.

Nice brisk morning at -6°c. Willow and I went out at about 5:30. It was just starting to lighten around the mountains in the east. The waning moon was bright to the southeast. I pointed the camera in the direction of where Comet Lemmon should be located as I wasn’t able to spot it with my naked eye. Later when I was home I was able to easily locate it on the downloaded photos. Now that I know where to look it will be easy to spot next time out. And it should get brighter!

Comet Lemmon in relation to the Big Dipper.

Thanksgiving Weekend

Just a reminder to step outside and try to spot **Comet Lemmon**, now brightening in northern skies. It may not reach the brilliance of **Comet NEOWISE**—seen here in 2020—but with comets, you never really know how bright they’ll become.

It’s finally starting to have a chill in the air. I found a home for most of my giant red cabbage. Sophie from Sophie’s Choice Pickles took it to make fermented sauerkraut. Her pickles are incredible and she sells out every year.

***

The good neighbour Larry has been enjoying the carrots. I left a bag of them on his doorstep the other day. I didn’t stay to talk as I was in a hurry and figured he’d find them as soon as he came out the door. They are Chantenay carrots. If you know your carrot varieties you know Chantenay have short thick tapered bodies.

Later that day a friend stopped by who is quite religious. I behave myself in his company. As we talked outside, Larry came out and found the carrots. He grabbed them by the stems and walked to the edge of his property, celebrating the gift raised high, yelled across the road, ‘Thanks for the buttplugs!’

I looked to my pious friend and sheepishly said, ‘They are carrots.’

But I couldn’t resist an answer to my good neighbour as he expects it from me, and yelled back across the road, ‘They are various sizes so you can work your way up!’

He didn’t miss a beat and yelled back, ‘I’m no amateur!’

***

If it clears a little, Willow and I may head out tomorrow morning to look for Comet Lemmon in the coming dawn. Hard to know if it will clear however as some are calling for snow.

Waterton

Thirty-nine years ago we visited Waterton Park on our honeymoon. The Prince of Wales Hotel looked abandoned. I took a few pictures with the 2.25 Yashica. Once I developed the B/W film all the negatives were blurry from the wind. The negatives were also bad because the film was expired. I didn’t print any of them.

*Mt. Vimy between the Lakes of Waterton.*

This time the pictures turned out better. The Hotel was a lot more expensive. We even got out under the stars for a wander around.

*The Milky Way on a backroad away from light pollution. Waterton Park is known for dark skies.*

The wind still howls at The Prince of Wales. The skies are dark in Waterton. A piece of The Milky Way is still bright before midnight.

*A scenic view of wind turbines standing tall against a clear blue sky. These are prominent at the start of the mountains where the wind blows continually.*

It was nice to get away even for a short time to celebrate our anniversary.

Waning Crescent

*The moon, Venus and Regulus at 6am shot through a 200mm lens handheld.*

A magnificent sight this morning with the waning crescent moon beside Venus and Regulus.

A few things to consider:

The moon is about 385,000 kms away from earth. It takes 29.5 days to orbit earth. Amazingly the same time it takes to complete a rotation or day.

Venus is close to the same size as Earth. It is the second plant from the sun. Earth is the third.

Both the moon and Venus have been observed through history and have important cultural significance to humanity.

Regulus is part of the constellation Leo. It is 79 light years away from us. It is actually four stars in a star system. The largest of the four is four times larger than our sun. It is a dominant star in the night sky.

I could go on with more facts. The point is, we know all of this from observation. I consider this fantastic. Think of the speed, time, math, angles and experimentation needed to prove what we now take as fact. It has been figured out by people like us (smarter than me I concede). Of course, it has taken generations. Something is learned and it gets added to, and so on. It is amazing to me.

It also shows what humanity is capable of when we collectively work together. Of course it takes time.

Most of the time on this blog I speak of the spiritual importance of nature. There is something I do in my head; I use the word nature and science interchangeably. I mentioned this to a teacher in high school long ago and was told how wrong I was. I took his word, but didn’t change my mind. I know I don’t understand either. Somehow that gives me peace. The same way watching wild orchids appear shortly after the snow melts or watching The Milky Way reappear, rising sideways in the east, curving above the Rocky Mountain Trench. I get the same feeling considering distance and time working out the trip in light speed to Betelgeuse or The Andromeda Galaxy.

I will leave this earth without contributing to the great pool of knowledge needed for the next great discovery. But shouldn’t the wonderful discoveries we already have be honoured. Shouldn’t that be enough to inspire us to do our best and treat our fellow humans with kindness and respect. It is not a jump from marvelling the brilliance of Regulus to loving your family or even pointing out the moon or sharing a mountaintop to someone interested.

It’s in our nature.

Palliser Pass

Primary Menu

Tag: astrophotography