Grab and go

Tonight was clear -- the first time in a week or more. I wanted to get out my scope. But the clear sky chart said it was going to get cloudy between 8 and 9pm; Environment Canada's forecast was calling for clouds and fog overnight. Worse, I hadn't put out my scope to cool, and I was worried about crappy views. I dithered and dallied, but at last hauled up the Dob from the basement and set it on the front porch, and I brought out a chair.

We live in a townhouse, and there's a condo building attached to the development that's right across from us -- four metres or so separate our front door from that building. We have hedges between us and our adjacent neighbours. All in all, the sky that's visible from the porch is a chunk about 30 degrees wide, about 30 degrees above the horizon to straight up, aimed roughly southeast. And these days, Jupiter is right there when it gets dark.

I wasn't expecting much. The scope hadn't cooled, I hadn't collimated, and my eyepieces are nothing special. But oh, that view! The two giant equatorial bands, with the southern tropical band popping into view every now and then. And sure enough, there was the Great Red Spot as well -- hah! Even at 100X, the view held just fine. Callisto, Io and Io were visible off to one side, and Ganymede to the other; Europa was hidden behind Jupiter.

I looked around to see what else was visible in this sliver of sky. Not much...but there was Castor, a double star. Could I split it? Yes -- barely; this made the lack of collimation apparent. But I was happy anyway, even if double stars aren't usually my thing.

By this time the sky was clouding over -- but only in the east. On a whim I took a walk to a nearby ball field to see if I could see the moon or Venus...and holy crap, it was! I hurried back and put the dob on a hand truck I use to move it around, then wheeled it over. The moon wasn't high at all -- a hand's breadth above the rooftops -- but it was beautiful, a tiny sliver of brightness and the rest filled out by Earthshine. Venus was clearly not quite a full disk. Mars was tiny, and it too showed the shortcomings of my setup -- not just collimation, but being so very low on the horizon. But that was okay; it was enough to see it. I swung back to the moon and just drank it in until it got low, and then I went home.

There is a lot to optimize, or fuss over, or worry about in this hobby. There are good reasons to; a bit of care can make the difference between seeing a fuzzy blob and having your breath taken away by the crispness and the beauty. But there is a lot, a lot to be said for just doing it; for not overthinking things; for simply getting out and looking. I saw three planets, a double star and our moon tonight; the light I was seeing took from under two seconds (Luna) to 12 minutes (Venus) to 41 minutes (Jupiter) to nearly 50 years (Castor) to reach me from its source. I saw sunrise on the moon and imagined seeing it in person. I saw the ecliptic laid out for me, from the already-set sun through Jupiter. I wouldn't have seen anything if I'd let my worries get the best of me.