Venus before Dawn

I've noticed Venus high in the sky in the pre-dawn twilight while riding my bike to work in the last couple of  weeks, but I haven't seen it in a truly dark sky setting until this morning at 5am, where it was blazing low down along the road as I pottered about, unable to sleep.

It really is a stunning object at its maximum magnitude.

Earlier on, I'd had a good evening's observing with my binoculars, again spotting Comet Wirtanen which I think is now on the fringes of naked eye visibility, despite what I said a couple of days ago. Too bad moonlight will obliterate it from here on in.

I also observed all manner of star clusters, some like the Mirfak cluster in Perseus which are larger than my binocular field of view, and others that are far less prominent like the three Messier clusters in Auriga - 36,37 and 38.

Comet Wirtanen itself was just about in the same binocular field of view as the most famous star clusters, the Seven Sisters, or Pleiades, in Taurus.

I enjoyed taking in the sights, on what was a much milder evening than a couple of nights ago.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 16.12.18

Moon and Venus on a Bicycle

It was a freezing morning today, which meant I got to wear the neck warmer I bought yesterday and thus set off for work feeling like a Poundland lady ice skating coach from Omsk. It did help though.

I drew the line at the balaclava until it gets colder. It is too gimp like.

My hand thermometer told me about zero degrees and that indeed was what it was. Having read lots of  reports on twitter I wondered why I wasn't seeing Venus. The answer was that I was looking in the wrong direction - Venus in the morning is in the Eastern sky, idiot!

Dawn wasn't far off but it was still a very bright object, with the added bonus of there being a beautiful thin sliver of moon nearby.

Obviously my phone doesn't take great pictures of astronomical objects, but I  hope I've picked up the flavour of my cold, crisp morning.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 04.12.18

Newark in the Dawn

I'm having a lot of trouble sleeping at the moment; I think the trouble is that at night there is less to distract a racing brain, and I end up too tired to actually rest as well. If that makes any sense.

So I decided to make the most of it, and strode out of my flat at just before 4am into the lightning indigo skies and a hail of birdsong. Oddly enough, the night had already been productive nature wise; the local vixen was prowling again - I recognised her tail - and on my drive a hedgehog scuttled along the hedge, raised up on its little legs like one of those old Citroens.

I could have headed out for the poppies again, but I figured I'd leave them be for a bit (as it turned out, I was back in the poppy field at 1030AM) so instead I headed for the river to take the shots below. I wasn't alone. Birds were busy, rabbits were plentiful and a huge female toad popped her head out from under a bush to take a look at the funny man on the riverbank.

The water was mirror smooth, and tinged with pink. All was calm.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 25.06.15

At the lock looking NE

Castle, sun rising behind it

Closer at the castle

Looking SW to the locks

Like the tree reflection and the orange water

Sleepy fishermen just visible

Needle in the lightning sky

The Dawn Chorus

I had been having a hard time sleeping last night, and figured a little fresh air would do me good.

It was 4am, and there was a thick haze in the sky negating any chance of doing any early morning astronomy. But there was still plenty going on to keep my senses occupied, although initially I couldn’t see any of it.

It started with me hearing a few high pitched “seeeeep seeeep” noises coming from above somewhere. At first I thought it was the sound of my own slightly cold-ridden nasal breathing, but a little self suffocation soon proved that wrong. It then occurred to me that it was possibly the sound of a redwing, those most attractive of winter thrushes.

This was just the beginning. Despite dawn still being the best part of three hours away, it seemed I had walked out into Halloween morning’s Dawn Chorus.

I wandered down to the road, drawn by the sound of some aggressive chirruping. And there on the actual main road, what must have been a pair of robins were fighting over the tarmac. The one who lived on the far side of the rode was clearly winning; he drove his opponent back onto the pavement with a series of aggressive flapping drives, and then mounted the pavement in triumph as the defeated bird submitted and flew off, leaving the victor to start feeding at the base of a tree.

Not far away a blackbird was rooting around in fallen leaves in the gutter of the road, and others were beginning to stir and call, but not sing, in the trees in the small park opposite. The singing was being left to the robins. Above me a bird settled in a tree, it was an eerily streetlamp illuminated great tit, its face and chest looking orange in the glow.

As my eyes began to grow heavy, woodpigeons and collared doves started to crash about in the foliage. And as I headed back inside to successfully go to sleep, I reflected on what pleasure being outside at this crazy, early hour had brought me.

Copyright Cream Crackered Nature 31/10/2013