Planet Viewing in 2009

Ahh, I've been waiting for this! :)

Mercury
The solar system's smallest planet flits back and forth from morning sky to evening sky several times a year. It never strays far from the Sun in our sky, so it's tough to find in the glare. From the northern hemisphere, it is visible in the morning sky this year in February and early March, June, and October. The late-year appearance is the best, because the planet will stand highest above the horizon. In the evening, Mercury is best seen in April and early May, August and early September, and December. The spring appearance is best.

Venus
Venus, the dazzling morning or evening star, outshines all the other stars and planets in the night sky. It begins the year in the evening sky, well up in the west as darkness begins to fall. It will disappear from view in late March as it passes between Earth and the Sun. It will return to view as a “morning star” by early April, and remain in the morning sky until December.

Mars
Mars climbs into view as a modest orange “star” quite low in the east or southeast at sunrise in late February. As the year progresses, it will pull farther away from the Sun and be visible for more of the night. By late in the year, it will in view for more than half of the night, and will outshine all but two planets and one star. Mars will stage beautiful encounters with Venus in mid-April and again in mid-July.

Jupiter
The largest planet in our solar system is a commanding presence for much of the year. It looks like an intensely bright cream-colored star, shining brighter than anything else in the night sky except the Moon and Venus. It climbs into view in the pre-dawn sky in February. It rises earlier as the months go by, and moves into the evening sky in late spring. Jupiter is at opposition in mid-August, when it appears brightest for the year and remains visible all night. Late in the year it is visible only in the evening sky, dropping lower each night.

Saturn
Saturn looks like a bright golden star. It spends the first eight months of the year in Leo, the lion, then moves into the neighboring constellation Virgo, the virgin. Saturn is at its best in early March, when it's closest to Earth. It disappears behind the Sun in late August, then returns to view in the morning sky in October.

Uranus
Although it's the third-largest planet in the solar system, it's so far from the Sun that you need binoculars to see it. It begins the year in the constellation Aquarius, then slides into Pisces in spring. It stages its best appearance in September.

Neptune
The fourth-largest planet in the solar system is so far away that you need a telescope to find it. Neptune is in the constellation Capricornus, and stages its best appearance in August.

Planet Viewing In January

Happy Birthday to me! 46 today :)

January 2009

Skywatchers willing to brave the cold air on January nights will be rewarded with such memorable sights as majestic Orion climbing high across the south, trailed by Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. Orion's shoulder, orange Betelgeuse, is the hub of the Winter Circle, a great loop of bright stars. These astronomical luminaries twinkle fiercely through the nippy night air.

The Bard of Maplewood

I wondered what had happened to Daniel Smythe, my grandmother's poetry teacher, who was kind enough to give some of my juvenile efforts a going over. It turns out that he died 3 years before she did:

Saturday, June 2, 2007

The Bard of Maplewood

I remember standing alone in front of my house after a deep, winter snow. The world evoked Robert Frost’s poem, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.

Along came a man, walking down the middle of the street where the snow was packed. He was wearing a trench coat, and a fedora capped his head, above his ruddy face.

It was Daniel Webster Smythe, a poet.

I knew this because my parents had told me, and, like my father, Mr. Smythe worked at Bradley University. I don’t think I ever spoke a word to Mr. Smythe in my whole life, though his friendly wife Ruth, with the sound of Cape Cod still in her voice, occasionally visited my mother. She would take mom to their book crammed house, five places down from ours, looking for some thing or another. The Smythe’s had two children, a boy and a girl, who were grown by the time we came along.

So, all I really know of Daniel Smythe is what I learned reading his poems and bits of public information about him. He was a widely published poet with poems in more than 100 publications, including the New Yorker and Harper’s. He won the Annual Award of the Poetry Society of America in 1940 and many other prizes during his life.

Before his academic career, Mr. Smythe worked on a farm in New Hampshire and on a wildlife sanctuary in New York, which perhaps explains why so many of his poems have nature as their theme. He served in the armed forces during World War II, and he came to Bradley in about 1949 to teach American literature and creative writing.

Daniel Smythe was praised by many influential poets, including Robert Frost, about whom he wrote a book, Robert Frost Speaks.

The book of poems on my shelf entitled, The Best Poems of Daniel Smythe, is inscribed, “For Ed & Mary King With best wishes, Daniel Smythe Thanksgiving 1974” He died seven years later.

I didn’t know when I saw him walking down the street that I would one day take classes in creative writing—poetry no less—as a graduate student at Bradley. Poetry—it’s a word that makes a lot of people, including me, a little nervous. There’s a kind of mystery about it. I think poetry has something to do with trying to see the world with fresh eyes and translating the observations into fresh language, though this is a stale way of putting it.

Well, as the saying goes, “I know what I like.” Here is a poem from Daniel Smythe’s anthology. It’s not one of his many award winners, but I like it.

THE BEACH

Landscape,
sea-bird,
shell shape,
sea heard.

Fog snug,
beach rose,
rockweed rug
grows and grows.

The snail hut,
word-lost shore –
this is what
I am looking for.

Posted by Maria Carroll at 5:53 AM

Planet Viewing in November

November 2008

The dazzling constellations of winter begin to creep into prime evening viewing time during the longer, cooler nights of November. Beautiful Orion rises in mid-evening early in the month, but by early evening at month's end. Taurus, the bull, charges into view ahead of Orion, with Gemini, the twins, rising about the same time as Orion, but farther north. The Dog Star, Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky, follows the hunter in late evening. A special late-month treat is the pairing of Venus and Jupiter in the southwest at sunset. The crescent Moon closes in on them on the 30th, creating an especially striking tableau.

Treasure Hunt

My mother (79) passed away suddenly at the end of September. I feel very close to her now when I sort through her junk drawers. This is what I've found so far, neatly packed into an impenetrable mass:

30 plastic coffee can lids

40 metal caps to vitamin bottles from the 70's

20 packets of powdered silica from same bottles (kept out moisture)

25 plastic coffee scoops

10 nested plastic Robitussin medicine cups

10 keys from old style of sardine tins (which were discontinued sometime in the 80's or 90's)

1 miniature replica Swiss battle-axe (God knows why!)

a sheaf of junk mail dating from 1972

my 2nd quarter 4th grade report card from Mrs. Reis ("needs to finish assignments in a timely fashion")

a Ziplock bag w' about 50 plastic bread tags in a variety of colors, all neatly collated

12 mesh onion bags

50 matchbooks

25 boxes of birthday cake candles, some put back used (washed first, but still...eww!)

her 1957 Red Cross swim instructor membership card

ancient packets of soy sauce and ketchup from restaurants that went out of business 30 years ago

and enough Howard Johnson's sugar packs to stop an army of diabetics in its tracks.


I dreamt that she baked blueberry brownies (never had any like that) and left them in the refrigerator for me. I went to bed completely exhausted, but woke up feeling better after that.

Clam Cakes

The other day I got this tasty recipe for clam cakes from a lady who grew up just south of here in Rhode Island. She now lives to the north in New Hampshire.


Hi Shelley,

I noticed your blog regarding New England Clam Chowdah. I live in NH but lived originally in RI for 30 years. I grew up on RI Clam Chowdah and Clamcakes. There used to be a Chowdah House at an old amusement park that was always full in the summer time and all they sold was Clam Cakes and Chowdah. I don't remember ever having been served Manhattan Clam Chowder (tomato broth not cream) as the New Clam Chowdah was so much better and being from Southern New England, why would we grow up with anything else?? I noticed that people in Northern New England however are not familiar with Clam Cakes, they think they are like Crab Cakes (which I don't know what they are)! In RI, Clam Cakes are huge and people would always buy them by the dozen with their chowder. They are the size of golfballs and are addicting. Being in my mid-forties, I try to stay away from deep fried anything but if you want to add something a lot tastier than cornbread as an accompaniment to your Clam Chowder, try these! In RI we also call them Quahogs.

RI Clam Cakes

½ cp clams or quahogs, chopped

½ c. clam juice

1 egg

1 ¼ cp flour

½ tsp baking powder

½ tsp baking soda

¼ tsp salt

1/3 cp milk

Mix dry ingredients; add milk and egg. Fold in clams and clam juice. Heat 2 or 3 inches of oil in pan or fryolator. (Oil is hot when a drop of clam cake mix floats immediately to the top). When brown, turn cake once. Remove and dry on paper towel. Eat warm! Happy eating! (This recipe I took from a cookbook made by my elementary school close to 20 years ago). I personally would drop much bigger than teaspoons, although they do puff up. The ones I am used to eating puff up to the size of golf balls and would be dropped by rounded tablespoons.

Sincerely,

Terry Gadoury

Planet Viewing in August

August 2008

The long, warm nights of August provide some dazzling sights. The Milky Way arcs high overhead, adding a soft glow to the dark sky -- but only if you are away from pesky city lights. The constellations Sagittarius and Scorpius are at their best, anchoring the southern end of the Milky Way. Jupiter points the way to Sagittarius. Mars and Saturn drop from sight in the glare of sunset, where Venus and Mercury already lurk. That leaves Jupiter as the only naked-eye planet easily visible for most of the month.