dark cloud constellations : the emu and coalsack nebula

our campsite in the bush near Gilgandra

Camping in a forest of eucalyptus in NSW, we looked up through a clearing to find the most wonderful night sky with stars of exceptional clarity and brightness. This low-tech image below, a 60 second exposure where I left the camera on the ground, shows the varied colours of the stars. What it doesn't convey however, is the dark area in the milky way. Initially surprised by how clear the milky way was in the night sky, we suddenly noticed that there was a significant amount of darkness within it which I've subsequently learned is called the coalsack nebula and the "Emu" - an aboriginal constellation consisting of darkness rather than stars.

the sky in the southern hemisphere photographed near Gilgandra, NSW.
(click on the image to enlarge enough to view) 

Like it's northern hemisphere counterpart the great rift, the Emu is an area of darkness in the night sky that makes it evident that the night sky is never really totally dark. However, these dark areas are not voids, or absences; the dark patches are star forming regions in our galaxy. Proto-stars (newly forming stars) generate molecular dust that doesn't allow light in the visible spectrum to shine through. However, with the advancements of telescopes that see in different light waves (e.g. x-rays or infrared) we now know that there is activity in these dark areas. This too reminds me of my earlier post on a new man made light absorbing material.

the "emu" (image by D. Smith)

I feel I've a lot to learn about aboriginal culture, and being here has sparked an interest in it for me. But I'm especially fascinated to learn of a culture that values the dark spaces, the interstices of the sky as much as it's light and objects.

We were en route to the Warrumbungles and Coonabarabran which have two observatories, being at a higher elevation (1160m above sea level) than the surrounding countryside. Clearly, this is good sky-watching country. Sliding Spring Observatory is housed inside the Warrumbungle National Park, and is Australia's largest optical astronomy research facility.

Back to solid visible objects, as you drive along the road to Coonabarabran, you pass various models of the planets in our solar system with the 37m dome of Sliding Spring Observatory representing the sun.

"Jupiter"

These are scale models (38 million times smaller than the real thing) of the planets in our solar system with relative distances between them as you drive. It was designed to give you an idea of the vastness of the solar system. There's at least an hour and a half of driving between Jupiter and Neptune, the two planets we passed; I'd almost forgotten about it until Neptune popped up, reminding me of the huge space between them. Remembering there's only 5 minutes drive between the Sun, Mercury, Venus, Earth and Mars, the distances to the outer planets are phenomenally huge.

Jupiter, west of Coonabarabran

Neptune, in Gunnedah

(See also here for a post on the Guugu Yimithirr people of Northern Queensland).

Eugenius Johann Christoph Esper

Coral, Eugenius Johan Christoph Esper, c 1798

fruit bats

A short video I made in the botanical gardens in Sydney of the extraordinary colony of fruit bats. Apparently there are so many of them they are beginning to damage the trees. As the bats are a protected species, the gardeners have been given special dispensation to try to reduce/control their numbers.

burning mountain part 1

the coal seam at the top of Burning Mountain (Mt Wingen)

Looking into places to visit on our road trip in Australia (we collect our camper van tomorrow), I'm attracted to a place called Burning Mountain. I'm told "you won't see much there", or more commonly "never heard of it" from various locals here in Sydney, but to me, it looks fascinating. Burning Mountain, or to give it it's proper name, Mount Wingen, was thought to be a volcano, but it's now known to be an underground seam of coal that's thought to have been burning for almost 6000 years. The plant life en route to the summit has suffered, with little growing on the forest floor. The burning head of the seam can be seen and the fire pours out sulphurous gas and smoke.

scott's hut

Visiting the exhibition on Scott's hut (and after seeing the recent documentary in the UK on how it had been preserved at Cape Evans) I was looking forward to seeing it's recreation in Sydney at the National Maritime Museum. Unfortunately, it hasn't really been recreated; all there is, is a floor map not unlike the stage set for Lars von Trier's Dogville and Manderlay, mapping on the floor the relative positions of where the crew would have slept etc.

the real Scott's hut at Cape Evans, Antarctica

In the gift shop, things got worse, with poor old Robert Falcon's fate reduced to a snowstorm paperweight. Not sure whether it's hilarious or in bad taste..

challenges to navigation

Having just arrived in Sydney, Australia, and going out walking after sunset (abruptly early having come from our Scottish summer with long hours of daylight) we looked up to the winter night sky and it occurred to us that we didn't recognise anything.

Similarly, orienting oneself with sun proves confusing until one realises that whilst the sun still rises in the east and sets in the west, it's movement over the sky is in the northern half of the sky, as opposed to the south in the northern hemisphere.

"The shadow of a sun dial moves clockwise in the northern hemisphere (opposite of the southern hemisphere). During the day the sun tends to raise to its maximum at a southerly position, whereas in the southern hemisphere it raises to a maximum that is northerly in position (as it tends towards the direction of the equator). In both hemispheres the sun rises in the east and sets in the west."

the night sky in the Southern Hemisphere

Climbing mountains here, the North face is the gentler side, the more temperate.