As an aspiring astronomer, with no experience and little knowledge, I decided that the best way to gain experience, knowledge, and to find places and opportunities to use my telescopes, would be to join an astronomical society.  For observing alone, one must find a dark and open space, and it is difficult to find such a place where one will not be inconvenienced by others.  There are any number of extremely dark locations in my vicinity, but it is not wise, or enjoyable to set up a telescope at the side of a road.  Seclusion is required, and unless one owns land, or has an agreement with a landowner, it is unlikely that one will find the seclusion required to ensure no interruptions, or the blinding effect of approaching car headlights.

I was extremely pleased to find that there is an astronomical society in Northumberland  (that would be Nastro), and even more pleased to discover that they meet and observe in an extremely convenient location for me, merely a few minutes drive away, and a very slight detour from the route to my favourite pizza shop.  I had therefore passed the place many times, as my waistline will attest.  I downloaded an application form from their web site, completed it, and attended the following meeting to join.  The speaker at that meeting gave a talk on the forthcoming year, expected events, and the society's plans for participating in the IYA.  All very good then, and I enjoyed myself, but this was merely a meeting rather than an observing session.  Not surprisingly, the society tend to observe on Fridays and Saturdays, and the next couple of weeks posed successive disappointments with no observing sessions, due to poor conditions.  Still, at least I could attend and enjoy the next fortnightly meeting, or at least I would have done, had it not been understandably cancelled due to snow.

I was unavailable for the next observing session, and on holiday for the weekend following that, during which they enjoyed two nights of observation in my absence, taking pictures of Lulin.  On return from my holiday, I missed what seems to have been an exceptional observing session under perfect conditions due to jet lag, and I missed the meeting the following week due to injury.  I had really wanted to attend that meeting too, as the theme was for each member to 'Bring a book that has interested or influenced your pursuit of astronomy', and I had  thought that would be tremendous fun, with any number of tomes on my bookshelf from which I could choose.  Instead, I spent the night at home, with my injured foot up, enduring the gruelling lack of entertainment on TV.

A week later, I returned home from work, hopeful that the sky would remain as clear as it had been all day long, hopeful that the society would actually be out observing on a night with a good sky when I was available.  I checked the web site, and sure enough, there was a post declaring that there would indeed be an observing session that night.  I checked the sky, still clear.  I checked the web site again, checked the sky again, checked the web site... and so it went on for the next few hours as I beseeched the stars to shine until at last, with joy, expectation, disbelief, and supplication I turned the key in the ignition and commenced my short journey to the nature reserve where Nastro meets and observes.  I did not take any telescopes with me on this first outing, as I preliminarily wanted to see where they set up, get the lay of the land, etc, so I instead imposed on the hospitality of others.

For the first time in my life, I saw a planet though a telescope.  It was Saturn, which makes it even better, and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the rings were not as edge-on as had been predicted for this year.  I was told that this was due to our current orbital orientation, or Saturn's, or whatever.  I didn't take in much information, so busy was I enjoying myself.  I saw star clusters, galaxies, nebulae and satellites.  My partner pointed at every single aeroplane in the sky and asked if it was a satellite.  I saw the space station (one thing that I had actually seen before) pass Orion's belt and disappear into Earth's shadow.  I spoke to other members, looked at some stunning photographs taken that night, and I discovered that apparently, last year had been a particular poor year for observation at the nature reserve, so at least I no longer felt I was the sole victim of bad luck.

But things were looking up, in so far as that, at last I had been able to.  So I attended the next meeting, only my second meeting since joining six or seven weeks earlier, looking forward to what I expected to be a fascinating talk about comets.  The meetings are held in a small visitors' centre on the nature reserve.  It is of timber construction, and as we entered, we noticed that the lights were off.  My partner and I spoke to those that had entered before us, as they scratched their heads looking for, and then at, the circuit breakers, and those that followed us as we looked at the circuit breakers, then they looked at the circuit breakers, before with utter futility, and lack of utility we grudgingly accepted that there had been a power cut.  Disastro strikes again...

We milled around, chatted a little, milled around a little more, milled around a lot.  I turned to one of the windows and looked out, and there before me was an incredibly bright satellite.  I turned to my partner to point it out, when someone behind us mentioned it and suddenly everyone in the room was pressed against the windows, which span the entire wall.  It had to be the ISS given its magnitude.  But no, from further across the room, a second satellite was spotted, and there we all stood in awe, as we watched the International Space Station chase Discovery as it raced across the night sky.  Suddenly, the power cut had become a blessing, as nobody would have been looking out of the windows, nor if they did, would they have seen anything other than reflections, had the talk been in progress, had the power been on.  After nearly an hour, I resigned to going home (well, pizza then home), and as I headed for the door, my extremely dark-adjusted eyes were seared by the blinding light as the power came back on.

So an hour late, the talk on comets began, and I wish I had been recording it so that I could relay some of it here, because it was excellent.  Nastro is extremely lucky to have enthusiastic and engaging members to give presentations, and though I tried to remember some points, the sheer weight of information and entertainment ensured that if I concentrated on committing something to memory, I would miss the next thing discussed, and I did not wish to miss a thing, because it was fascinating.

So I look forward to our next meeting, and our next observing session, and all others thereafter, because surely, after my initial poor luck, things have to improve, don't they?

Written by Dave Scott ©

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