Farewell Kepler!

Normally this blog is reserved for my own work, but today I have decided to cover a news topic, as it's one that sits close to my heart. A few days ago, it was reported that the Kepler Space Telescope was damaged and beyond repair, despite the best efforts of the NASA scientists involved to right its problems.

Kepler before launch (Credit: NASA/JPL)

For those of you who don't know, Kepler is a sun-orbiting telescope designed to examine a small patch of sky near the border between the constellations Cygnus (the Swan), Lyra (the Lyre) and Draco (the Dragon). Over one hundred thousand stars lie within Kepler's view of this region, and each is monitored by the telescope, which looks for tiny dips in the light emanating from each star. Each of these dips may correspond to a planet passing in front of its star and to date, Kepler has identified 3,277 exoplanetary candidates, 134 of which have now been confirmed as definite.

Kepler's view of the sky. (Credit: Guy Stimpson)

With more than two thousand left to be confirmed, there is still a goldmine of Kepler data to be sifted through, and such data will keep many scientists busy for years to come, but it is still sad that this awesome experiment has come to an end. Like its namesake, Johannes Kepler, who demonstrated that Earth was not the centre of the universe, the NASA project has once again shown us that, far from being unique in the universe, our planet is a mere afterthought in the grand scale of existence. It has shown us giant worlds that dwarf even Jupiter, a world thought to be made almost completely from diamond, and a planet whose skies and clouds are bright, vivid pink. Above all though, it has shown us just what we are capable of, and just how far we can see. It has put us on the long path to answering the ultimate question: are we alone?

Two of the four reaction wheels which, now damaged, have led to the spacecraft's demise. (Credit: Ball Aerospace)

Regardless of my own, or anyone else's feelings about the answer to this question, no-one can convincingly deny that this is a question of great import. Since human beings first began walking upright and making fire, we have been explorers and pioneers, stretching out over our world and ever broadening our horizons, and Kepler has thrown down a new benchmark of where the next horizon lies.

Using statistical analysis from the mission, scientists have been able to estimate the number of planets in the rest of our galaxy, and it's not small. Around 17 billion seems to be the number, and within that simple number resides an incredible premise. To suspect that out of 17 billion (that's 17,000,000,0000 there's only one with liquid water oceans teeming with life is far-fetched, more so than the notion of alien life itself.

Artist's impression of Kepler in action. (Credit: NASA)

So far, of course, we know of life on only one planet, our own, yet even our most distant probes (Voyagers 1 and 2) have only just reached the edge of our solar system, which contains only nine planets. We have been exploring space for only half of a century, yet already we have looked deep into this vast expanse and known our insignificance. With data from past missions like Kepler and Voyager and from future missions such as Juno, Curiosity, New Horizons and many other that will surely follow, our journey into the stars is only just beginning, and it is these robotic pioneers who will be our vanguard, paving the way for humanity to follow as once again, we sail the seas of space and voyage out to pastures new.

A new star!

Over the last few days, there's been a new star in our skies! Well, it appears as such anyway.

Discovered by amateur astronomer Koichi Itagaki on the 14th of August 2013, the attractively named PNVJ20233073+2046041 (now renamed Nova Delphini 2013 - thankfully) was spotted near the borders between the constellations Delphinus, Vulpecula and Sagitta. Rather than a new star, however, Nova Delphini 2013 is a much rarer object.

Nova Delphini 2013 located at RA 20:23:30.73 DEC +20:46:04.1 with DSS data from the same region (prior to Nova) inset.

Deep sky images show a very dim star, around +17 in magnitude, at the precise location of our Nova. Most likely, this is the progenitor of this event.

A nova takes place where a large giant star and a small white dwarf are in orbit around each other. Due to the intense gravitational forces arising from the massive density of the dwarf and the proximity of the two stars, material becomes torn away from the larger of the pair and begins to accrete upon the surface of the white dwarf. As this material collects, its temperature and pressure steadily rises until it reaches a critical point, at which it erupts in a cataclysmic thermonuclear explosion. This violent outburst causes the dwarf to increase dramatically in brightness, in this case by about 25,000 times so far. 

An artist's impression of a nova in action.

How bright this will become is anyone's guess, and the nova may endure for days and weeks to come.

Unlike in a supernova explosion, the white dwarf is not destroyed in the event, and is likely to give birth to another nova, and possibly many more, in the millennia to come. Eventually though, the tiny white dwarf may succumb and be destroyed, causing a Type Ia supernova which may be brighter than all of the stars in the milky way combined!

Sometimes, you just have to make do...

The season is getting ready to begin, and soon, as the darkness draws in ever earlier in the evening, astrophotographers around the Northern Hemisphere will begin to dust off their gear (if they haven't already). I, of course, am no exception....except that I'm about 150 miles from most of my kit!

Not to be deterred though, I've decided to go for something a little different this evening, and have, against all odds, decided to have a go at filming clouds. Yes, that's right, clouds. Those pesky, high level, "you-won't-be-looking-at-naff-all-through-me-mate", nebulous wispy blighters that normally mess everything up. Well, they say that if you can't beat 'em, then you should join 'em.

In view of this then, I've tried to capture the motion of the clouds in front of the rotational pole of the celestial sphere, so, in the brief windows amid the gloom, it's just possible to make out the gentle turn of the Earth as our planet revolves around its heavenly axis. The clouds themselves, too, carry a certain beauty, which believe you me is a tough thing for an astronomer to say!

Enough guff though - here's tonight's effort. 100x thirty second exposures, each separated by about 5 seconds, stitched into around 15 seconds of video, including titles. Enjoy!