I have several distinct modes as a stargazer. Sometimes I’m in exploration mode and I want to see and log new objects. Sometimes I’m in gear mode and I want to see how a given piece of equipment performs. Sometimes I’m in aesthetic mode and I just want to look at beautiful things. Sometimes I do all three in one night, or even looking at one object.
The last post, about current and future observing projects, was written in exploration mode. “Exploration” might seem like an odd word to apply to the activity of tracking down lists of things compiled by other observers. But if I haven’t seen them myself, then there is still the thrill of the hunt and the rush of discovery. And looking at all of these things is how I personally transmute caelum incognitum into known space. That’s exploration in my book.
Saturday night at the Salton Sea, I was in a blend of aesthetic mode and gear mode, because my ongoing thought process was basically, “Oh, hey, that beautiful thing is up now. I wonder how it looks through these scopes?” I think the only new thing I logged was 8 Lacertae, and if I hadn’t been so close to fiinishing the Double Star program, I wouldn’t have logged any new objects at all, despite staying up almost all night.
I do like observing lists. Some people dismiss them as stamp collecting or say that they make a fun pursuit into work. Well, different strokes, I guess. For me, observing lists come with the implicit subtitle, “Hey, here are the next n-hundred things that are really out there to be seen, any of which might knock your socks off.” Every observing program I have completed has introduced me to new favorite objects, which I periodically revisit, and has broadened my knowledge and experience of the cosmos.
But with all of that said, I don’t do enough casual stargazing, with no plan or agenda. That’s all I used to do, in my first few months as an amateur astronomer, and it almost killed me. Observing programs gave me a way to simultaneously learn the sky and educate myself about what’s up there. But the pendulum may have swung too far now; I hardly ever haul out a scope just to take a quick peek at the moon or Saturn.
All of this is on my mind because of a thread on CN called “When astronomy becomes a chore….” Here’s are some excerpts that have been much on my mind:
RussL: If I feel lazy I can get by with just the 120ST and my trusty TV Widefield 32mm. That way I don’t even have to feel obligated to see each object at every power I can. Easy.
Me: Peace through deliberately limited options–I love it! You have inspired me, sir.
RussL: Well, thanks. I’m glad to know my laziness has helped someone. But, it’s true that sometimes we need to relax more. It’s kinda like when I was a kid with next to nothing to view with, but happy as a clam with whatever I had. I have much more now, although not all that much. I guess part of the difference nowadays is that I have so much more knowledge and feel like I need to use it more. But there’s also a lot to be said for just having a good time without feeling like I must do everything possible.
karstenkoch: I’ve been mentally kicking around an idea for awhile that is still taking shape in my head. For lack of anything better to call it, I’ll call it the “Rule of Ones”. I’ve seen some comments above like it, so I thought I would mention it. There’s really nothing to it other than in order to keep things simple, easy, pure, and enjoyable do or choose only one of everything. Take one scope outside. Take only one eyepiece too. Pick one target to observe. You can imagine all of the other variables involved … choose or do only only one of each. Then, with no more decisions to make, just have a rest under the stars and enjoy your time observing and reflecting.
I like that. One scope, one eyepiece, just go. That sorta dovetails with another idea that has been growing in my mind–more on that in the next post.