Astronomy Tuesday

I posted a picture of the Trifid Nebula a few weeks ago; here's a spooky detail shot of the heart of the nebula.

NASA, ESA, and The Hubble Heritage Team (AURA/STScI); Acknowledgment: F. Yusef-Zadeh (Northwestern Univ.)

Sunday bird blogging

A black and white warbler in the park Friday.

Fall migration is under way; unfortunately, so is Fall semester. Tomorrow I actually have an in-person class -- my first time in a classroom since I started this program.

Saturday reflections

Two more looks at Central Park in summer. Even when it's so hot that sweat collects in my ears and drips down the lobes like Satan's earrings, it's an oasis. I am so grateful that I can go there again!

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

Central Park lake this afternoon -- it was so hot and humid that rowing a boat wouldn't have been my idea of summer fun, but this couple apparently disagreed.

Classes started on Wednesday, so summer, such as it was, is over for me anyway. Last night when I walked through my living room on my way to brush my teeth, I wondered how I had managed to get so little done on the closet reorganization yesterday. And then I remembered, Oh yeah. I was doing homework.

Urban poetry

Outside a restaurant on Ninth Avenue, waiting for the delivery orders to be ready.

Astronomy Tuesday

 Here's something a little different, from the Twitter feed of Dr. James O'Donoghue.

You can fit all of the planets (and former planets) in the solar system in the space between Earth and our moon, as long as you tilt Saturn a little to allow for the rings. This feels like it cannot possibly be true, and yet it is. The average maximum distance to the moon is 405,000 km; the combined radii of Jupiter and Saturn are a bit under 130,000 km, leaving plenty of room for everybody else.

I can't believe no one ever told me this!

Sunday bird blogging

Henri has been downgraded to a tropical storm now, and we're not on the direct path, but are seeing endless heavy rain today.

So the bright colors of a grackle are very welcome today.

Urban poetry

 

Despite my snarky prediction a few weeks ago, it appears that Hot Yoga may be coming after all.

The windows have been cleaned and someone was working inside when I walked by this week. It's not a business I would be patronizing even without a virus running rampant through the world, but the optimism of a possible opening, any opening, is a good thing right now.

And I love this building.

Saturday reflections

Reflections with the old Post Office building/Moynihan Train Hall providing some spiky contrast.

Life in the time of coronavirus

A sidewalk in Chelsea on an August day. I was on my way to have the wonderful James undo eighteen months worth of home haircuts, and I'm still not used to being able to go outside whenever I want to.

But, as this man demonstrates, thanks to rising case numbers we're mostly back to masking on the street. I will pull the mask down if I'm on a side street with no one else around, but if there are more than a couple of people in my vicinity, it goes back up. 

I'm glad I got the haircut in while I still could. School starts again next week and one class is scheduled to alternate in-person and online classes. Everyone has to supply proof of vaccination, and masks are required, but I am wondering if in-person classes are possible yet -- at least in places that take the virus seriously.

Astronomy Tuesday

The Trifid Nebula (Messier 20) got its name from the bands of interstellar dust that seem to divide it into three parts when seen through small telescopes.

Unfortunately, because I spent much of my youth watching bad sci-fi and horror movies on television, the name immediately makes me think of The Day of the Triffids, where walking carnivorous plants attack Earth. The Trifid Nebula is not, as far as we know, carnivorous, nor does it star Howard Keel.

Image Credit and Copyright: Mike Selby

Sunday bird blogging

Yes, it was 95 degrees and too humid to breathe, but a robin's gotta do what a robin's gotta do.

Not the best picture, but I liked the way that robin just sat on that patch of dirt and sang.