Ch1 Summary

Introduction

We invite you to come along on a series of voyages to explore the universe as astronomers understand it today. Beyond Earth are vast and magnificent realms full of objects that have no counterpart on our home planet. Nevertheless, we hope to show you that the evolution of the universe has been directly responsible for your presence on Earth today.

Along your journey, you will encounter:

• a canyon system so large that, on Earth, it would stretch from Los Angeles to Washington, DC (Figure 1.2Links to an external site.).

Figure 1.2 Mars Mosaic. This image of Mars is centered on the Valles Marineris (Mariner Valley) complex of canyons, which is as long as the United States is wide. (credit: modification of work by NASA)

• a crater and other evidence on Earth that tell us that the dinosaurs (and many other creatures) died because of a cosmic collision.

• a tiny moon whose gravity is so weak that one good throw from its surface could put a baseball into orbit.

• a collapsed star so dense that to duplicate its interior we would have to squeeze every human being on Earth into a single raindrop.

• exploding stars whose violent end could wipe clean all of the life-forms on a planet orbiting a neighboring star (Figure 1.3Links to an external site.).

• a “cannibal galaxy” that has already consumed a number of its smaller galaxy neighbors and is not yet finished finding new victims.

• a radio echo that is the faint but unmistakable signal of the creation event for our universe.

Figure 1.3 Stellar Corpse. We observe the remains of a star that was seen to explode in our skies in 1054 (and was, briefly, bright enough to be visible during the daytime). Today, the remnant is called the Crab Nebula and its central region is seen here. Such exploding stars are crucial to the development of life in the universe. (credit: NASA, ESA, J. Hester (Arizona State University))

Such discoveries are what make astronomy such an exciting field for scientists and many others—but you will explore much more than just the objects in our universe and the latest discoveries about them. We will pay equal attention to the process by which we have come to understand the realms beyond Earth and the tools we use to increase that understanding.

We gather information about the cosmos from the messages the universe sends our way. Because the stars are the fundamental building blocks of the universe, decoding the message of starlight has been a central challenge and triumph of modern astronomy. By the time you have finished reading this text, you will know a bit about how to read that message and how to understand what it is telling us.

Astronomy is defined as the study of the objects that lie beyond our planet Earth and the processes by which these objects interact with one another. We will see, though, that it is much more. It is also humanity’s attempt to organize what we learn into a clear history of the universe, from the instant of its birth in the Big Bang to the present moment. Throughout this book, we emphasize that science is a progress report—one that changes constantly as new techniques and instruments allow us to probe the universe more deeply.

In considering the history of the universe, we will see again and again that the cosmos evolves; it changes in profound ways over long periods of time. For example, the universe made the carbon, the calcium, and the oxygen necessary to construct something as interesting and complicated as you. Today, many billions of years later, the universe has evolved into a more hospitable place for life. Tracing the evolutionary processes that continue to shape the universe is one of the most important (and satisfying) parts of modern astronomy.

Over centuries scientists have extracted various scientific laws from countless observations, hypotheses, and experiments. These scientific laws are, in a sense, the “rules” of the game that nature plays. One remarkable discovery about nature—one that underlies everything you will read about in this text—is that the same laws apply everywhere in the universe. The rules that determine the motion of stars so far away that your eye cannot see them are the same laws that determine the arc of a baseball after a batter has hit it out of the park.

Note that without the existence of such universal laws, we could not make much headway in astronomy. If each pocket of the universe had different rules, we would have little chance of interpreting what happened in other “neighborhoods.” But, the consistency of the laws of nature gives us enormous power to understand distant objects without traveling to them and learning the local laws. In the same way, if every region of a country had completely different laws, it would be very difficult to carry out commerce or even to understand the behavior of people in those different regions. A consistent set of laws, though, allows us to apply what we learn or practice in one state to any other state.

This is not to say that our current scientific models and laws cannot change. New experiments and observations can lead to new, more sophisticated models—models that can include new phenomena and laws about their behavior. The general theory of relativity proposed by Albert Einstein is a perfect example of such a transformation that took place about a century ago; it led us to predict, and eventually to observe, a strange new class of objects that astronomers call black holes. Only the patient process of observing nature ever more carefully and precisely can demonstrate the validity of such new scientific models.

One important problem in describing scientific models has to do with the limitations of language. When we try to describe complex phenomena in everyday terms, the words themselves may not be adequate to do the job. For example, you may have heard the structure of the atom likened to a miniature solar system. While some aspects of our modern model of the atom do remind us of planetary orbits, many other of its aspects are fundamentally different.

This problem is the reason scientists often prefer to describe their models using equations rather than words. In this book, which is designed to introduce the field of astronomy, we use mainly words to discuss what scientists have learned. We avoid complex math, but if this course piques your interest and you go on in science, more and more of your studies will involve the precise language of mathematics.

A common unit astronomers use to describe distances in the universe is a light-year, which is the distance light travels during one year. Because light always travels at the same speed, and because its speed turns out to be the fastest possible speed in the universe, it makes a good standard for keeping track of distances. You might be confused because a “light-year” seems to imply that we are measuring time, but this mix-up of time and distance is common in everyday life as well. For example, when your friend asks where the movie theater is located, you might say “about 20 minutes from downtown.”

So, how many kilometers are there in a light-year? Light travels at the amazing pace of 3×1053×105 kilometers per second (km/s), which makes a light-year 9.46×10129.46×1012 kilometers. You might think that such a large unit would reach the nearest star easily, but the stars are far more remote than our imaginations might lead us to believe. Even the nearest star (other than the Sun) is 4.25 light-years away—more than 40 trillion kilometers. Other stars visible to the unaided eye are hundreds to thousands of light-years away (Figure 1.4Links to an external site.).

Figure 1.4 Orion Nebula. This beautiful cloud of cosmic raw material (gas and dust from which new stars and planets are being made) called the Orion Nebula is about 1400 light-years away. That’s a distance of roughly 1.34×1016 kilometers—a pretty big number. The gas and dust in this region are illuminated by the intense light from a few extremely energetic adolescent stars. (credit: NASA, ESA, M. Robberto (Space Telescope Science Institute/ESA) and the Hubble Space Telescope Orion Treasury Project Team)

There is another reason the speed of light is such a natural unit of distance for astronomers. Information about the universe comes to us almost exclusively through various forms of light, and all such light travels at the speed of light—that is, 1 light-year every year. This sets a limit on how quickly we can learn about events in the universe. If a star is 100 light-years away, the light we see from it tonight left that star 100 years ago and is just now arriving in our neighborhood. The soonest we can learn about any changes in that star is 100 years after the fact. For a star 500 light-years away, the light we detect tonight left 500 years ago and is carrying 500-year-old news.

Because many of us are accustomed to instant news from the Internet, some might find this frustrating.

“You mean, when I see that star up there,” you ask, “I won’t know what’s actually happening there for another 500 years?”

But this isn’t the most helpful way to think about the situation. For astronomers, now is when the light reaches us here on Earth. There is no way for us to know anything about that star (or other object) until its light reaches us.

But what at first may seem a great frustration is actually a tremendous benefit in disguise. If astronomers really want to piece together what has happened in the universe since its beginning, they must find evidence about each epoch (or period of time) of the past. Where can we find evidence today about cosmic events that occurred billions of years ago?

The delay in the arrival of light provides an answer to this question. The farther out in space we look, the longer the light has taken to get here, and the longer ago it left its place of origin. By looking billions of light-years out into space, astronomers are actually seeing billions of years into the past. In this way, we can reconstruct the history of the cosmos and get a sense of how it has evolved over time.

This is one reason why astronomers strive to build telescopes that can collect more and more of the faint light in the universe. The more light we collect, the fainter the objects we can observe. On average, fainter objects are farther away and can, therefore, tell us about periods of time even deeper in the past. Instruments such as the Hubble Space Telescope (Figure 1.5Links to an external site.) and the Very Large Telescope in Chile (which you will learn about in the chapter on Astronomical InstrumentsLinks to an external site.), are giving astronomers views of deep space and deep time better than any we have had before.

Figure 1.5 Telescope in Orbit. The Hubble Space Telescope, shown here in orbit around Earth, is one of many astronomical instruments in space. (credit: modification of work by European Space Agency)

We can now take a brief introductory tour of the universe as astronomers understand it today to get acquainted with the types of objects and distances you will encounter throughout the text. We begin at home with Earth, a nearly spherical planet about 13,000 kilometers in diameter (Figure 1.6Links to an external site.). A space traveler entering our planetary system would easily distinguish Earth from the other planets in our solar system by the large amount of liquid water that covers some two thirds of its crust. If the traveler had equipment to receive radio or television signals, or came close enough to see the lights of our cities at night, she would soon find signs that this watery planet has sentient life.

Figure 1.6 Humanity’s Home Base. This image shows the Western hemisphere as viewed from space 35,400 kilometers (about 22,000 miles) above Earth. Data about the land surface from one satellite was combined with another satellite’s data about the clouds to create the image. (credit: modification of work by R. Stockli, A. Nelson, F. Hasler, NASA/ GSFC/ NOAA/ USGS)

Our nearest astronomical neighbor is Earth’s satellite, commonly called the Moon. Figure 1.7Links to an external site. shows Earth and the Moon drawn to scale on the same diagram. Notice how small we have to make these bodies to fit them on the page with the right scale. The Moon’s distance from Earth is about 30 times Earth’s diameter, or approximately 384,000 kilometers, and it takes about a month for the Moon to revolve around Earth. The Moon’s diameter is 3476 kilometers, about one fourth the size of Earth.

Figure 1.7 Earth and Moon, Drawn to Scale. This image shows Earth and the Moon shown to scale for both size and distance. (credit: modification of work by NASA)

Light (or radio waves) takes 1.3 seconds to travel between Earth and the Moon. If you’ve seen videos of the Apollo flights to the Moon, you may recall that there was a delay of about 3 seconds between the time Mission Control asked a question and the time the astronauts responded. This was not because the astronauts were thinking slowly, but rather because it took the radio waves almost 3 seconds to make the round trip.

Earth revolves around our star, the Sun, which is about 150 million kilometers away—approximately 400 times as far away from us as the Moon. We call the average Earth–Sun distance an astronomical unit (AU) because, in the early days of astronomy, it was the most important measuring standard. Light takes slightly more than 8 minutes to travel 1 astronomical unit, which means the latest news we receive from the Sun is always 8 minutes old. The diameter of the Sun is about 1.5 million kilometers; Earth could fit comfortably inside one of the minor eruptions that occurs on the surface of our star. If the Sun were reduced to the size of a basketball, Earth would be a small apple seed about 30 meters from the ball.

It takes Earth 1 year ( 3×1073×107 seconds) to go around the Sun at our distance; to make it around, we must travel at approximately 110,000 kilometers per hour. (If you, like many students, still prefer miles to kilometers, you might find the following trick helpful. To convert kilometers to miles, just multiply kilometers by 0.6. Thus, 110,000 kilometers per hour becomes 66,000 miles per hour.) Because gravity holds us firmly to Earth and there is no resistance to Earth’s motion in the vacuum of space, we participate in this extremely fast-moving trip without being aware of it day to day.

Earth is only one of eight planets that revolve around the Sun. These planets, along with their moons and swarms of smaller bodies such as dwarf planets, make up the solar system (Figure 1.8Links to an external site.). A planet is defined as a body of significant size that orbits a star and does not produce its own light. (If a large body consistently produces its own light, it is then called a star.) Later in the book this definition will be modified a bit, but it is perfectly fine for now as you begin your voyage.

Figure 1.8 Our Solar Family. The Sun, the planets, and some dwarf planets are shown with their sizes drawn to scale. The orbits of the planets are much more widely separated than shown in this drawing. Notice the size of Earth compared to the giant planets. (credit: modification of work by NASA)

We are able to see the nearby planets in our skies only because they reflect the light of our local star, the Sun. If the planets were much farther away, the tiny amount of light they reflect would usually not be visible to us. The planets we have so far discovered orbiting other stars were found from the pull their gravity exerts on their parent stars, or from the light they block from their stars when they pass in front of them. We can’t see most of these planets directly, although a few are now being imaged directly.

The Sun is our local star, and all the other stars are also enormous balls of glowing gas that generate vast amounts of energy by nuclear reactions deep within. We will discuss the processes that cause stars to shine in more detail later in the book. The other stars look faint only because they are so very far away. If we continue our basketball analogy, Proxima Centauri, the nearest star beyond the Sun, which is 4.25 light-years away, would be almost 7000 kilometers from the basketball.

When you look up at a star-filled sky on a clear night, all the stars visible to the unaided eye are part of a single collection of stars we call the Milky Way Galaxy, or simply the Galaxy. (When referring to the Milky Way, we capitalize Galaxy; when talking about other galaxies of stars, we use lowercase galaxy.) The Sun is one of hundreds of billions of stars that make up the Galaxy; its extent, as we will see, staggers the human imagination. Within a sphere 10 light-years in radius centered on the Sun, we find roughly ten stars. Within a sphere 100 light-years in radius, there are roughly 10,000 (104)(104) stars—far too many to count or name—but we have still traversed only a tiny part of the Milky Way Galaxy. Within a 1000-light-year sphere, we find some ten million (107)(107) stars; within a sphere of 100,000 light-years, we finally encompass the entire Milky Way Galaxy.

Our Galaxy looks like a giant disk with a small ball in the middle. If we could move outside our Galaxy and look down on the disk of the Milky Way from above, it would probably resemble the galaxy in Figure 1.9Links to an external site., with its spiral structure outlined by the blue light of hot adolescent stars.

Figure 1.9 Spiral Galaxy. This galaxy of billions of stars, called by its catalog number NGC 1073, is thought to be similar to our own Milky Way Galaxy. Here we see the giant wheel-shaped system with a bar of stars across its middle. (credit: NASA, ESA)

The Sun is somewhat less than 30,000 light-years from the center of the Galaxy, in a location with nothing much to distinguish it. From our position inside the Milky Way Galaxy, we cannot see through to its far rim (at least not with ordinary light) because the space between the stars is not completely empty. It contains a sparse distribution of gas (mostly the simplest element, hydrogen) intermixed with tiny solid particles that we call interstellar dust. This gas and dust collect into enormous clouds in many places in the Galaxy, becoming the raw material for future generations of stars. Figure 1.10Links to an external site. shows an image of the disk of the Galaxy as seen from our vantage point.

Figure 1.10 Milky Way Galaxy. Because we are inside the Milky Way Galaxy, we see its disk in cross-section flung across the sky like a great milky white avenue of stars with dark “rifts” of dust. In this dramatic image, part of it is seen above Trona Pinnacles in the California desert. (credit: Ian Norman)

Typically, the interstellar material is so extremely sparse that the space between stars is a much better vacuum than anything we can produce in terrestrial laboratories. Yet, the dust in space, building up over thousands of light-years, can block the light of more distant stars. Like the distant buildings that disappear from our view on a smoggy day in Los Angeles, the more distant regions of the Milky Way cannot be seen behind the layers of interstellar smog. Luckily, astronomers have found that stars and raw material shine with various forms of light, some of which do penetrate the smog, and so we have been able to develop a pretty good map of the Galaxy.

Recent observations, however, have also revealed a rather surprising and disturbing fact. There appears to be more—much more—to the Galaxy than meets the eye (or the telescope). From various investigations, we have evidence that much of our Galaxy is made of material we cannot currently observe directly with our instruments. We therefore call this component of the Galaxy dark matter. We know the dark matter is there by the pull its gravity exerts on the stars and raw material we can observe, but what this dark matter is made of and how much of it exists remain a mystery. Furthermore, this dark matter is not confined to our Galaxy; it appears to be an important part of other star groupings as well.

By the way, not all stars live by themselves, as the Sun does. Many are born in double or triple systems with two, three, or more stars revolving about each other. Because the stars influence each other in such close systems, multiple stars allow us to measure characteristics that we cannot discern from observing single stars. In a number of places, enough stars have formed together that we recognized them as star clusters (Figure 1.11Links to an external site.). Some of the largest of the star clusters that astronomers have cataloged contain hundreds of thousands of stars and take up volumes of space hundreds of light-years across.

Figure 1.11 Star Cluster. This large star cluster is known by its catalog number, M9. It contains some 250,000 stars and is seen more clearly from space using the Hubble Space Telescope. It is located roughly 25,000 light-years away. (credit: NASA, ESA)

You may hear stars referred to as “eternal,” but in fact no star can last forever. Since the “business” of stars is making energy, and energy production requires some sort of fuel to be used up, eventually all stars run out of fuel. This news should not cause you to panic, though, because our Sun still has at least 5 or 6 billion years to go. Ultimately, the Sun and all stars will die, and it is in their death throes that some of the most intriguing and important processes of the universe are revealed. For example, we now know that many of the atoms in our bodies were once inside stars. These stars exploded at the ends of their lives, recycling their material back into the reservoir of the Galaxy. In this sense, all of us are literally made of recycled “star dust.”

In a very rough sense, you could think of the solar system as your house or apartment and the Galaxy as your town, made up of many houses and buildings. In the twentieth century, astronomers were able to show that, just as our world is made up of many, many towns, so the universe is made up of enormous numbers of galaxies. (We define the universe to be everything that exists that is accessible to our observations.) Galaxies stretch as far into space as our telescopes can see, many billions of them within the reach of modern instruments. When they were first discovered, some astronomers called galaxies island universes, and the term is aptly descriptive; galaxies do look like islands of stars in the vast, dark seas of intergalactic space.

The nearest galaxy, discovered in 1993, is a small one that lies 70,000 light-years from the Sun in the direction of the constellation Sagittarius, where the smog in our own Galaxy makes it especially difficult to discern. (A constellation, we should note, is one of the 88 sections into which astronomers divide the sky, each named after a prominent star pattern within it.) Beyond this Sagittarius dwarf galaxy lie two other small galaxies, about 160,000 light-years away. First recorded by Magellan’s crew as he sailed around the world, these are called the Magellanic Clouds (Figure 1.12Links to an external site.). All three of these small galaxies are satellites of the Milky Way Galaxy, interacting with it through the force of gravity. Ultimately, all three may even be swallowed by our much larger Galaxy, as other small galaxies have been over the course of cosmic time.

Figure 1.12 Neighbor Galaxies. This image shows both the Large Magellanic Cloud and the Small Magellanic Cloud above the telescopes of the Atacama Large Millimeter/Submillimeter Array (ALMA) in the Atacama Desert of northern Chile. (credit: ESO, C. Malin)

The nearest large galaxy is a spiral quite similar to our own, located in the constellation of Andromeda, and is thus called the Andromeda galaxy; it is also known by one of its catalog numbers, M31 (Figure 1.13Links to an external site.). M31 is a little more than 2 million light-years away and, along with the Milky Way, is part of a small cluster of more than 50 galaxies referred to as the Local Group.

Figure 1.13 Closest Spiral Galaxy. The Andromeda galaxy (M31) is a spiral-shaped collection of stars similar to our own Milky Way. (credit: Adam Evans)

At distances of 10 to 15 million light-years, we find other small galaxy groups, and then at about 50 million light-years there are more impressive systems with thousands of member galaxies. We have discovered that galaxies occur mostly in clusters, both large and small (Figure 1.14Links to an external site.).

Figure 1.14 Cluster of Galaxies. This image shows part of a rich cluster of galaxies some 4 billion light-years away. Nicknamed Pandora's Cluster, the grouping consists of many galaxies, each with billions of stars in them. (credit: NASA, ESA, and J. Lotz, M. Mountain, A. Koekemoer, and the HFF Team (STScI))

Some of the clusters themselves form into larger groups called superclusters. The Local Group is part of a supercluster of galaxies, called the Virgo Supercluster, which stretches over a diameter of 110 million light-years. We are just beginning to explore the structure of the universe at these enormous scales and are already encountering some unexpected findings.

At even greater distances, where many ordinary galaxies are too dim to see, we find quasars. These are brilliant centers of galaxies, glowing with the light of an extraordinarily energetic process. The enormous energy of the quasars is produced by gas that is heated to a temperature of millions of degrees as it falls toward a massive black hole and swirls around it. The brilliance of quasars makes them the most distant beacons we can see in the dark oceans of space. They allow us to probe the universe 10 billion light-years away or more, and thus 10 billion years or more in the past.

With quasars we can see way back close to the Big Bang explosion that marks the beginning of time. Beyond the quasars and the most distant visible galaxies, we have detected the feeble glow of the explosion itself, filling the universe and thus coming to us from all directions in space. The discovery of this “afterglow of creation” is considered to be one of the most significant events in twentieth-century science, and we are still exploring the many things it has to tell us about the earliest times of the universe.

Measurements of the properties of galaxies and quasars in remote locations require large telescopes, sophisticated light-amplifying devices, and painstaking labor. Every clear night, at observatories around the world, astronomers and students are at work on such mysteries as the birth of new stars and the large-scale structure of the universe, fitting their results into the tapestry of our understanding.

Our senses suggest to us that Earth is the center of the universe—the hub around which the heavens turn. This geocentric (Earth-centered) view was what almost everyone believed until the European Renaissance. After all, it is simple, logical, and seemingly self-evident. Furthermore, the geocentric perspective reinforced those philosophical and religious systems that taught the unique role of human beings as the central focus of the cosmos. However, the geocentric view happens to be wrong. One of the great themes of our intellectual history is the overthrow of the geocentric perspective. Let us, therefore, take a look at the steps by which we reevaluated the place of our world in the cosmic order.

The Celestial Sphere

If you go on a camping trip or live far from city lights, your view of the sky on a clear night is pretty much identical to that seen by people all over the world before the invention of the telescope. Gazing up, you get the impression that the sky is a great hollow dome with you at the center (Figure 2.2Links to an external site.), and all the stars are an equal distance from you on the surface of the dome. The top of that dome, the point directly above your head, is called the zenith, and where the dome meets Earth is called the horizon. From the sea or a flat prairie, it is easy to see the horizon as a circle around you, but from most places where people live today, the horizon is at least partially hidden by mountains, trees, buildings, or smog.

Figure 2.2 The Sky around Us. The horizon is where the sky meets the ground; an observer’s zenith is the point directly overhead.

If you lie back in an open field and observe the night sky for hours, as ancient shepherds and travelers regularly did, you will see stars rising on the eastern horizon (just as the Sun and Moon do), moving across the dome of the sky in the course of the night, and setting on the western horizon. Watching the sky turn like this night after night, you might eventually get the idea that the dome of the sky is really part of a great sphere that is turning around you, bringing different stars into view as it turns. The early Greeks regarded the sky as just such a celestial sphere (Figure 2.3Links to an external site.). Some thought of it as an actual sphere of transparent crystalline material, with the stars embedded in it like tiny jewels.

Figure 2.3 Circles on the Celestial Sphere. Here we show the (imaginary) celestial sphere around Earth, on which objects are fixed, and which rotates around Earth on an axis. In reality, it is Earth that turns around this axis, creating the illusion that the sky revolves around us. Note that Earth in this picture has been tilted so that your location is at the top and the North Pole is where the N is. The apparent motion of celestial objects in the sky around the pole is shown by the circular arrow.

Today, we know that it is not the celestial sphere that turns as night and day proceed, but rather the planet on which we live. We can put an imaginary stick through Earth’s North and South Poles, representing our planet’s axis. It is because Earth turns on this axis every 24 hours that we see the Sun, Moon, and stars rise and set with clockwork regularity. Today, we know that these celestial objects are not really on a dome, but at greatly varying distances from us in space. Nevertheless, it is sometimes still convenient to talk about the celestial dome or sphere to help us keep track of objects in the sky. There is even a special theater, called a planetarium, in which we project a simulation of the stars and planets onto a white dome.

As the celestial sphere rotates, the objects on it maintain their positions with respect to one another. A grouping of stars such as the Big Dipper has the same shape during the course of the night, although it turns with the sky. During a single night, even objects we know to have significant motions of their own, such as the nearby planets, seem fixed relative to the stars. Only meteors—brief “shooting stars” that flash into view for just a few seconds—move appreciably with respect to other objects on the celestial sphere. (This is because they are not stars at all. Rather, they are small pieces of cosmic dust, burning up as they hit Earth’s atmosphere.) We can use the fact that the entire celestial sphere seems to turn together to help us set up systems for keeping track of what things are visible in the sky and where they happen to be at a given time.

Celestial Poles and Celestial Equator

To help orient us in the turning sky, astronomers use a system that extends Earth’s axis points into the sky. Imagine a line going through Earth, connecting the North and South Poles. This is Earth’s axis, and Earth rotates about this line. If we extend this imaginary line outward from Earth, the points where this line intersects the celestial sphere are called the north celestial pole and the south celestial pole. As Earth rotates about its axis, the sky appears to turn in the opposite direction around those celestial poles (Figure 2.4Links to an external site.). We also (in our imagination) throw Earth’s equator onto the sky and call this the celestial equator. It lies halfway between the celestial poles, just as Earth’s equator lies halfway between our planet’s poles.

Figure 2.4 Circling the South Celestial Pole. This long-exposure photo shows trails left by stars as a result of the apparent rotation of the celestial sphere around the south celestial pole. (In reality, it is Earth that rotates.) (Credit: ESO/Iztok Bončina)

Now let’s imagine how riding on different parts of our spinning Earth affects our view of the sky. The apparent motion of the celestial sphere depends on your latitude (position north or south of the equator). First of all, notice that Earth’s axis is pointing at the celestial poles, so these two points in the sky do not appear to turn.

If you stood at the North Pole of Earth, for example, you would see the north celestial pole overhead, at your zenith (Figure 2.5Links to an external site.). The celestial equator, 90° from the celestial poles, would lie along your horizon. As you watched the stars during the course of the night, they would all circle around the celestial pole, with none rising or setting. Only that half of the sky north of the celestial equator is ever visible to an observer at the North Pole. Similarly, an observer at the South Pole would see only the southern half of the sky.

If you were at Earth’s equator, on the other hand, you see the celestial equator (which, after all, is just an “extension” of Earth’s equator) pass overhead through your zenith. The celestial poles, being 90° from the celestial equator, must then be at the north and south points on your horizon. As the sky turns, all stars rise and set; they move straight up from the east side of the horizon and set straight down on the west side. During a 24-hour period, all stars are above the horizon exactly half the time. (Of course, during some of those hours, the Sun is too bright for us to see them.)

What would an observer in the latitudes of the United States or Europe see? Remember, we are neither at Earth’s pole nor at the equator, but in between them. For those in the continental United States and Europe, the north celestial pole is neither overhead nor on the horizon, but in between. It appears above the northern horizon at an angular height, or altitude, equal to the observer’s latitude. In San Francisco, for example, where the latitude is 38° N, the north celestial pole is 38° above the northern horizon.

For an observer at 38° N latitude, the south celestial pole is 38° below the southern horizon and, thus, never visible. As Earth turns, the whole sky seems to pivot about the north celestial pole. For this observer, stars within 38° of the North Pole can never set. They are always above the horizon, day and night. This part of the sky is called the north circumpolar zone. For observers in the continental United States, the Big Dipper, Little Dipper, and Cassiopeia are examples of star groups in the north circumpolar zone. On the other hand, stars within 38° of the south celestial pole never rise. That part of the sky is the south circumpolar zone. To most U.S. observers, the Southern Cross is in that zone. (Don’t worry if you are not familiar with the star groups just mentioned; we will introduce them more formally later on.)

At this particular time in Earth’s history, there happens to be a star very close to the north celestial pole. It is called Polaris, the pole star, and has the distinction of being the star that moves the least amount as the northern sky turns each day. Because it moved so little while the other stars moved much more, it played a special role in the mythology of several Native American tribes, for example (some called it the “fastener of the sky”).

Astronomy Basics

What’s Your Angle?

Astronomers measure how far apart objects appear in the sky by using angles. By definition, there are 360° in a circle, so a circle stretching completely around the celestial sphere contains 360°. The half-sphere or dome of the sky then contains 180° from horizon to opposite horizon. Thus, if two stars are 18° apart, their separation spans about 1/10 of the dome of the sky. To give you a sense of how big a degree is, the full Moon is about half a degree across. This is about the width of your smallest finger (pinkie) seen at arm’s length.

Rising and Setting of the Sun

We described the movement of stars in the night sky, but what about during the daytime? The stars continue to circle during the day, but the brilliance of the Sun makes them difficult to see. (The Moon can often be seen in the daylight, however.) On any given day, we can think of the Sun as being located at some position on the hypothetical celestial sphere. When the Sun rises—that is, when the rotation of Earth carries the Sun above the horizon—sunlight is scattered by the molecules of our atmosphere, filling our sky with light and hiding the stars above the horizon.

For thousands of years, astronomers have been aware that the Sun does more than just rise and set. It changes position gradually on the celestial sphere, moving each day about 1° to the east relative to the stars. Very reasonably, the ancients thought this meant the Sun was slowly moving around Earth, taking a period of time we call 1 year to make a full circle. Today, of course, we know it is Earth that is going around the Sun, but the effect is the same: the Sun’s position in our sky changes day to day. We have a similar experience when we walk around a campfire at night; we see the flames appear in front of each person seated about the fire in turn.

The path the Sun appears to take around the celestial sphere each year is called the ecliptic (Figure 2.6Links to an external site.). Because of its motion on the ecliptic, the Sun rises about 4 minutes later each day with respect to the stars. Earth must make just a bit more than one complete rotation (with respect to the stars) to bring the Sun up again.

Figure 2.5 Star Circles at Different Latitudes. The turning of the sky looks different depending on your latitude on Earth. The red circle in each case is your horizon. Your zenith is the point above your head. (a) At the North Pole, the stars circle the zenith and do not rise and set. (b) At the equator, the celestial poles are on the horizon, and the stars rise straight up and set straight down. (c) At intermediate latitudes, the north celestial pole is at some position between overhead and the horizon. Its angle above the horizon turns out to be equal to the observer’s latitude. Stars rise and set at an angle to the horizon.

As the months go by and we look at the Sun from different places in our orbit, we see it projected against different places in our orbit, and thus against different stars in the background (Figure 2.6Links to an external site. and Table 2.1Links to an external site.)—or we would, at least, if we could see the stars in the daytime. In practice, we must deduce which stars lie behind and beyond the Sun by observing the stars visible in the opposite direction at night. After a year, when Earth has completed one trip around the Sun, the Sun will appear to have completed one circuit of the sky along the ecliptic.

Figure 2.6 Constellations on the Ecliptic. As Earth revolves around the Sun, we sit on “platform Earth” and see the Sun moving around the sky. The circle in the sky that the Sun appears to make around us in the course of a year is called the ecliptic. This circle (like all circles in the sky) goes through a set of constellations. The ancients thought these constellations, which the Sun (and the Moon and planets) visited, must be special and incorporated them into their system of astrology. Note that at any given time of the year, some of the constellations crossed by the ecliptic are visible in the night sky; others are in the day sky and are thus hidden by the brilliance of the Sun. (The term constellation will be defined more precisely in the next subsection.)

Table 2.1

The ecliptic does not lie along the celestial equator but is inclined to it at an angle of about 23.5°. In other words, the Sun’s annual path in the sky is not linked with Earth’s equator. This is because our planet’s axis of rotation is tilted by about 23.5° from a vertical line sticking out of the plane of the ecliptic (Figure 2.7Links to an external site.). Being tilted from “straight up” is not at all unusual among celestial bodies; Uranus and Pluto are actually tilted so much that they orbit the Sun “on their side.”

The inclination of the ecliptic is the reason the Sun moves north and south in the sky as the seasons change. In Earth, Moon, and SkyLinks to an external site., we discuss the progression of the seasons in more detail.

Figure 2.7 The Celestial Tilt. The celestial equator is tilted by 23.5° to the ecliptic. As a result, North Americans and Europeans see the Sun north of the celestial equator and high in our sky in June, and south of the celestial equator and low in the sky in December.

Fixed and Wandering Stars

The Sun is not the only object that moves among the fixed stars. The Moon and each of the planets that are visible to the unaided eye—Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and Uranus (although just barely)—also change their positions slowly from day to day. During a single day, the Moon and planets all rise and set as Earth turns, just as the Sun and stars do. But like the Sun, they have independent motions among the stars, superimposed on the daily rotation of the celestial sphere. Noticing these motions, the Greeks of 2000 years ago distinguished between what they called the fixed stars—those that maintain fixed patterns among themselves through many generations—and the wandering stars, or planets. The word “planet,” in fact, means “wanderer” in ancient Greek.

Today, we do not regard the Sun and Moon as planets, but the ancients applied the term to all seven of the moving objects in the sky. Much of ancient astronomy was devoted to observing and predicting the motions of these celestial wanderers. They even dedicated a unit of time, the week, to the seven objects that move on their own; that’s why there are 7 days in a week. The Moon, being Earth’s nearest celestial neighbor, has the fastest apparent motion; it completes a trip around the sky in about 1 month (or moonth). To do this, the Moon moves about 12°, or 24 times its own apparent width on the sky, each day.

The individual paths of the Moon and planets in the sky all lie close to the ecliptic, although not exactly on it. This is because the paths of the planets about the Sun, and of the Moon about Earth, are all in nearly the same plane, as if they were circles on a huge sheet of paper. The planets, the Sun, and the Moon are thus always found in the sky within a narrow 18-degree-wide belt, centered on the ecliptic, called the zodiac (Figure 2.6Links to an external site.). (The root of the term “zodiac” is the same as that of the word “zoo” and means a collection of animals; many of the patterns of stars within the zodiac belt reminded the ancients of animals, such as a fish or a goat.)

How the planets appear to move in the sky as the months pass is a combination of their actual motions plus the motion of Earth about the Sun; consequently, their paths are somewhat complex. As we will see, this complexity has fascinated and challenged astronomers for centuries.

Constellations

The backdrop for the motions of the “wanderers” in the sky is the canopy of stars. If there were no clouds in the sky and we were on a flat plain with nothing to obstruct our view, we could see about 3000 stars with the unaided eye. To find their way around such a multitude, the ancients found groupings of stars that made some familiar geometric pattern or (more rarely) resembled something they knew. Each civilization found its own patterns in the stars, much like a modern Rorschach test in which you are asked to discern patterns or pictures in a set of inkblots. The ancient Chinese, Egyptians, and Greeks, among others, found their own groupings—or constellations—of stars. These were helpful in navigating among the stars and in passing their star lore on to their children.

You may be familiar with some of the old star patterns we still use today, such as the Big Dipper, Little Dipper, and Orion the hunter, with his distinctive belt of three stars (Figure 2.8Links to an external site.). However, many of the stars we see are not part of a distinctive star pattern at all, and a telescope reveals millions of stars too faint for the eye to see. Therefore, during the early decades of the 20th century, astronomers from many countries decided to establish a more formal system for organizing the sky.

Figure 2.8 Orion. (a) The winter constellation of Orion, the hunter, is surrounded by neighboring constellations, as illustrated in the seventeenth-century atlas by Hevelius. (b) A photograph shows the Orion region in the sky. Note the three blue stars that make up the belt of the hunter. The bright red star above the belt denotes his armpit and is called Betelgeuse (pronounced “Beetel-juice”). The bright blue star below the belt is his foot and is called Rigel. (credit a: modification of work by Johannes Hevelius; b: modification of work by Matthew Spinelli)

Today, we use the term constellation to mean one of 88 sectors into which we divide the sky, much as the United States is divided into 50 states. The modern boundaries between the constellations are imaginary lines in the sky running north–south and east–west, so that each point in the sky falls in a specific constellation, although, like the states, not all constellations are the same size. All the constellations are listed in Appendix LLinks to an external site.. Whenever possible, we have named each modern constellation after the Latin translations of one of the ancient Greek star patterns that lies within it. Thus, the modern constellation of Orion is a kind of box on the sky, which includes, among many other objects, the stars that made up the ancient picture of the hunter. Some people use the term asterism to denote an especially noticeable star pattern within a constellation (or sometimes spanning parts of several constellations). For example, the Big Dipper is an asterism within the constellation of Ursa Major, the Big Bear.

Students are sometimes puzzled because the constellations seldom resemble the people or animals for which they were named. In all likelihood, the Greeks themselves did not name groupings of stars because they looked like actual people or subjects (any more than the outline of Washington state resembles George Washington). Rather, they named sections of the sky in honor of the characters in their mythology and then fit the star configurations to the animals and people as best they could.