Astronomy Tuesday

“Today the key features of the Copenhagen interpretation can be more easily explained, and understood, in terms of what happens when a scientist makes an experimental observation. First, we have to accept that the very act of observing a thing changes it, and that we, the observers, are in a very real sense part of the experiment—there is no clockwork that ticks away regardless of whether we look at it or not. Secondly, all we know about are the results of experiments. We can look at an atom and see an electron in energy state A, then look again and see an electron in energy state B. We guess that the electron jumped from A to B, perhaps because we looked at it. In fact, we cannot even say for sure that this is the same electron, and we cannot make any statement about what it was doing when we were not looking at it.”

—John Gribbin, In Search of Schrödinger's Cat

I'm going to be studying cosmology at Oxford this summer, assuming my knee cooperates, and in preparation I've been re-reading some of my old books on astronomy and physics before tackling the class reading. Of course quantum physics describes things on the atomic and subatomic level, while much of astronomy looks at things that are incomprehensibly enormous—the Medulla nebula, for example, a supernova remnant in Cassiopeia, which is still expelling radio waves and gases 10,000 years after it blew up.

Image Credit: Pierre Konzelmann

Snowy day

Yesterday was the first day of intake testing for spring classes. The forecast on my phone said rain, possibly some sleet, so I wore sneakers that were completely inadequate for the slushy sidewalks left by hours of light but sloppy snow.

One picture is from the bus on Fifth Avenue looking into a Central Park that was blurred by focus-grabbing droplets on the window. The photo isn't black and white but might as well have been, as you can judge by subtracting the taxi and streetlight colors from the other photo, taken on the other side of the park after I got off the bus.

I managed to get home without breaking any bones, which is the important thing.

Urban poetry

When you just need a break from doomscrolling.

Cars

I've always loved the details on cars. Here are a few that have been sitting in the folder forever.

Saturday reflections

I need a lot of soothing these days, and these tranquil blues and greens are doing their best.

Urban poetry

There are a lot of alleys in lower Manhattan, but you rarely see them festooned with clotheslines and laundry.

I didn't look closely when I took this picture, off Walker Street last summer, and thought that the towels and undershirts were banners or pennants of some kind. But it's very festive!

Badland detail

That harsh geology looks better in black and white.

How about some of those bad Badlands

Since I posted pictures of the Painted Canyon badlands in North Dakota, here's another look at their southern cousins. Similar geology, very different landscape.

Welcome to the Corn Palace

Thank you to Mary Kay for providing such a cheerful welcome, and letting me take a picture of her and the Fourth of July flags in her hair.

And for the popcorn, which ensured that when you walk into the Corn Palace, you smell...corn.

I also want to mention that I didn't eat any popcorn because we had just had really excellent Mexican food, which I did not expect in Mitchell, South Dakota.

Inside the Corn Palace

There are more murals, and exhibits covering the history of the building. The combination auditorium/basketball court that takes up much of the building also serves as the gift shop.

The Sydney Opera House, in corn

This closeup of one of the mosaics shows how they do it. Twelve different colors of corn, grown locally, are used and the designs are created by local artists. The corn cobs are split lengthwise and then nailed to the walls.

The Corn Palace

The Corn Palace, in tiny Mitchell, South Dakota (well, tiny by my standards—its 15,000 inhabitants make it the seventh largest city in South Dakota) is the last of what was once a series of “crop palaces” across the Midwest, built to promote their cities and the local agriculture.

All of the art on the facade, depicting the wonders of the world, is made out of corn. The theme changes every year, and new corn mosaics are created.