Astrology Quarterly - Astronomy - Heavens Above

A S Morton

Heavens Above - April 2007

The Sun has arrived! Well, as is the way with these things, he’s really only started the process of arriving. However, at least we can claim him as ‘ours’ once more since when he crossed the ‘celestial equator’ on the 21st March he’s now in the northern hemisphere and just beginning that long steady climb up the inclined angle of the ecliptic (the ‘angle of obliquity’ that is – which always sounds somewhat ominous to me, a bit too much like ‘oblivion’ for my liking) towards those dizzing heights of our summer. This ‘angle of obliquity’ is the angle between the ‘ecliptic’ (the apparent path of the Sun around the Earth, even though we know it’s the other way around it’s comes back to the same thing) and the ‘celestial equator’ (which is simply a projection of our ‘terrestrial equator’ out into space). It’s because we’re tilted over by this ‘angle of obliquity’ (around 23.5°) that we get the seasons that we do. But for now ‘spring’ is here and the nightsky has shifted itself westwards and will be taking with it the quietly fading winter constellations of Orion, Taurus, Auriga and Canis Major. Next up for the disappearing act will be Gemini and Canis Minor, until their reappearance at the end of the year that is, leaving us with spring’s big players: Leo, who rises up to take centre-stage in the ‘heavens above’ (and what else would you expect?), and the slowly approaching Virgo, lowdown and bashfully picking her way over the eastern horizon, with Boötes, higher up in the east and to the left of the familiar ‘Plough’ of Ursa Major.

And even the weather at this time of the year can never quite seem to make up its mind between hot and cold, wet or dry, even though by moving our clocks artificially one hour forward it does give an apparent kick-start to the change of seasons and highlights the lengthening evenings before dusk. Come mid-month it won’t be getting fully dark (as in ‘dark’ being beyond the various stages and types of ‘twilight’) much before 10.00pm BST and therefore those decreasing hours of darkness make for more concentrated planet and star-spotting. The one exception to all of this is the ‘star-turn’ of the nightskies, Venus. At the merest hint of dusk she’s out to play high up in the west. She’s such a show-off she can’t wait for darkness like the other planets, at the earliest opportunity she’s up there strutting her stuff for all to see. It sometimes makes you wonder what (or who?) exactly she’s trying to attract with this glitzy routine of hers. Hmm, more musings on that a little further on!

Leo is one of the very few constellations that actually looks like he’s supposed to, a resplendent and restful, but alert, lion. Is he standing, crouching or lying down? Have a look one evening and decide for yourself. And just thinking of the giant sphinx in Egypt, the various statues and carvings and engravings and paintings littering the outsides and insides of temples and palaces all over the near and middle east it is quite clear that the lion, whose heavenly representation in the stars of Leo has been up there in the nightsky for man to see since time immemorial, has been a revered image with a celestial, perhaps god-like, presence from our very beginnings. The mirror-image question mark, the ‘sickle’, that denotes the front of the lion from the head going down to Regulus, the brightest star in the constellation, denoting the front paw, is the most marked feature of the asterism. No wonder the Sun was associated with this particular constellation and the equivalent tropical sign even though it is not at the highest point of the ecliptic. This is not some ancient astronomical miscalculation. The Sun reaches its maximum declination north (seen by us as its highest annual point in our daylight skies) at the beginning of what we call the tropical sign of Cancer, which roughly 2000-odd years ago was the position of the stars of the constellation of Cancer, but they are such a faint, reclusive (way beyond what you might call shy!) grouping of stars that when you look up at the nightsky there almost seems to be this massive gap between the stars of Gemini and Leo. One could hardly associate the Sun with some wispy void in the heavens, could one? However it was then, and has been since then, rationalised by intelligent men, one good look at the ‘heavens above’ will very often provide the practical, visible answers. And astrology is fundementally based on naked-eye observational astronomy.

The kite-shaped constellation of Boötes (with the slightly unpronouncable name) is one of those ancient constellations that doesn’t get that much attention these days and its history and origins have become somewhat clouded over time. It is generally referred to as the ‘herdsman’ or the ‘ploughman’ although it is pretty difficult to determine the shape as a man, more like a ‘kite’ with the very bottom of the kite marked by the brilliant orangey ‘red giant’ star Arcturus (meaning ‘bear keeper’), the fourth brightest star in the night sky. Spookily enough Arcturus is very Sun-like insofar as it is about 20 times the current size of our Sun but is pretty much the size our Sun will become in about 5 billion years from now when it also becomes a ‘red giant’ star (we are currently orbiting a ‘yellow dwarf’ star). One of the stars of the constellation of Boötes even has a rather spectacular ‘hot jupiter’ exo-planet orbiting it.

The first sightings of Arcturus in the east at dusk is purportedly a portent of those hot days of summer approaching. It is one of the 48 constellations listed by Ptolemy in the ‘Algamest’ although its name seems to have derived from the Egyptian. Around the time of the building of the Great Pyramid of Giza c2560 BC, when Thuban, of the constellation Draco, was the then pole star, Boötes was a circumpolar constellation (meaning visible all night long going around the north celestial pole). Prior to that, some three millenia earlier, the star at the very top of the ‘head’ was the pole star itself, or very close to being the pole star, and the ‘herdsman’ could therefore have been deemed to have been performing an ‘Atlas’ type of function i.e. holding the world on his shoulders. The ‘herdsman’ is eternally herding the circumpolar stars around the north celestial pole or is the ‘ploughman’ with the ‘Plough’ directly in front of him in the constellation Ursa Major (aka, the Great Bear).

Leo, Boötes and even Virgo can all be found in the nightsky by using the handle of the prominent ‘Plough’ as a pointer (see this month’s skymap). Taking a nice curved sweep from the handle round and down to the right will bring you to the bright Regulus in Leo. Similarly taking a nice curve from the handle round to the left will bring you first to the bright orange Arcturus and continuing the sweep further down will bring you to Virgo’s bright white star Spica (the ‘ear of corn’). In and around the constellation Virgo, underneath the belly of the lion Leo and between the two constellations is a veritable mass of galaxy-land. Tiny, fuzzy little patches in a clear sky, a pair of binoculars would see them better but a telescope would be needed to get any sort of perspective on the enormity of what is out there. The so-called ‘Virgo Supercluster’ of galaxies is so massive and so powerful that its gravity also has our own galaxy, the Milky Way, firmly in its hold.

Meanwhile, back here on the ‘magic roundabout’, planet Earth, what can we see of those ‘wanderers’ of ours, the planets? We’ve aready briefly mentioned Venus (and far too briefly for her liking you can be sure), so let’s see what else we can see with our own unaided eyes.

Planetwatch

Mercury is not up for it this month, being seen that is. You can never quite tell with him just exactly what he’s going to do next. Not so much the elusive one as simply the erratic one, to say the very least. Why do you think the band of the zodiac extends out to 8? either side of the ecliptic? Not because the Sun wanders out that far on his annual journey, nor indeed do we here on Earth. Actually the Sun doesn’t quite keep to a perfect line and does wobble about a little bit but certainly not to that extent. And so do we a bit. No, it is primarily to accommodate our slippery friend whose eccentric orbit can take him out to almost those extremes. And this is representative of our logical, conscious minds is it? So much for consistent clear thinking then! The other planets are much more orderly in their orbital behaviour, although typically Mars is a little on the wilful side.

Venus. Well, what can you say? I’m not saying the gal’s exactly got class but she sure has that certain something about her. Allure, perchance? She is now well into her Evening Star routine, even brighter than before and setting some four hours after the Sun. It’s gone beyond the plane-landing double-take and is now more akin to alien invasion time. Not exactly ‘X-Files’, ‘Close Encounters’ or ‘Taken’ territory but it does make you wonder how many UFO’s have historically been reported by us unknowing terrestrials at this unbelievably fabulous nightly mirage. And for whose benefit is this amazing show of hers? The only other planetary body that’s been around long enough in the nightsky this time to be able to take in her full splendour is good old stick-in-the-mud Saturn. These two have a strange, long-standing and not exactly transparent relationship. It’s one of those annual touch-and-go sorts of things. Last August Bank Holiday they had a fleetingly brief encounter (a conjunction) in the full heat of summer. She had tried so hard to catch him up and then no sooner had she arrived than she was gone again. What happened? Was it Saturn who couldn’t keep up with her dazzling pace or that he pulled back at the last moment or simply her restless nature that caused them to meet and part so suddenly? Whatever it was, she seems to have been doing her best to re-connect by whizzing round the zodiac and then putting on this amazingly magnetic performance, almost some kind of bizarre planetary mating ritual, and he of course has been loitering with intent, totally smitten but too shy and reserved to make sufficient a backward move to cross the heavenly void that separates them, for most of the winter. Well, here comes the last square in this particular cycle on the 2nd of the month and Venus is now in the tropical sign of Taurus and also moving into the constellation of the same name, a double-whammy indeed, so she’s really full of herself. What happens next?

While you’re pondering that one, just to mention that on the 19th of the month Venus makes a lovely posed picture with the new crescent Moon just to the right of her and the following evening the Moon has moved across and appears to the left of her. Try taking a look and see if you don’t go “aaah”.

Mars is still acting the reluctant hero and is keeping as close as he can manage to the Sun. Having moved from the constellation of Capricornus into the constellation of Aquarius he is now moving northwards in declination, rising some one and a half hours before the Sun by the end of the month. Although you might not quite spot him so readily in the pre-dawn skies he is now just beginning to stir himself into some limited action. As the year progresses he’ll become increasingly prominent.

Jupiter is still on his tropical winter holidays but now that the weather is beginning to get a bit warmer he’s more inclined to hang out up here with us, turning stationary retrograde on the 6th of the month. He and us, the Earth that is, are drawing closer together and he is noticably getting brighter at the prospect. Rising in the early hours at the start of the month, by month’s end he’s rising in the east before the midnight hour.

Saturn has been doing a splendid job. He’s held the winter’s nightsky secure, drifting backwards away from Regulus in Leo (having totally outshone him a couple of months ago, really no contest at all) and roughly taking up a holding position on the cusp of the constellations of Leo and Cancer, neither of which are entirely his favorite locations to hang out in. Methinks he’s possibly been waiting around for flirty, flighty Venus to catch him up again, he’s certainly been enjoying her evening performances of late although watching from a respectful position on the other side of the sky. The notion hadn’t previously occurred that Saturn might be into a touch of playful voyerism but then again it’s not always easy to tell what’s going on beneath that seemingly dour exterior. Anyway, decorum as always is restored and he brings himself to a grinding halt and turns himself back onto the straight and narrow mid-month, going stationary direct on the 19th. Even Saturn’s patience has its limits and he is beginning to tire a little and fade in brightness as he and Earth start to pull apart. His job is done for now.

Uranus and Neptune are still recovering from their respective solar conjunctions and in any case are generally not visible to the naked eye.

© A.S.Morton – March 2007