Weird Science

Iris Nebula

Polish ver­sion is here

In the nor­thern sky, amidst the stars that form a quiet, twin­kling canvas at night, lie nume­rous fasci­na­ting con­stel­la­tions (Photo 1). Among them, it's impos­si­ble not to notice Ursa Minor — the Lit­tle Bear, or the Lit­tle Dip­per — which, altho­ugh less stri­king in appe­a­rance than its lar­ger coun­ter­part, Ursa Major, plays a cru­cial role in cele­stial navi­ga­tion. It is home to Pola­ris, or the North Star (α Ursae Mino­ris), a star posi­tio­ned so close to the cele­stial pole that it appe­ars nearly motion­less in the sky. Its con­stancy has made it a relia­ble guide for sai­lors, tra­ve­lers, and astro­no­mers thro­u­ghout the ages.

Nearby lies the con­stel­la­tion Draco — the Dra­gon. It is often iden­ti­fied with Ladon (Gr. Λάδων), the mythi­cal ser­pent who guar­ded the gar­den of the Hespe­ri­des and the gol­den apple tree given to Hera as a wed­ding gift. This con­stel­la­tion was known to many ancient cul­tu­res. About 80 stars within Draco are visi­ble to the naked eye. In Poland, Draco can be obse­rved year-round, altho­ugh it's best vie­wed during the spring and sum­mer mon­ths.

Ano­ther con­stel­la­tion visi­ble in this region is Came­lo­par­da­lis — the Giraffe. Tho­ugh it lacks par­ti­cu­larly bri­ght stars, it makes up for this with its vast cove­rage of the sky. It's con­si­de­red one of the youn­ger con­stel­la­tions, intro­du­ced in 1613 by the Dutch astro­no­mer, geo­gra­pher, and cler­gy­man Petrus Plan­cius. He desi­gna­ted this area of the sky — once belie­ved by the ancient Gre­eks to be nearly star­less — by con­nec­ting fain­ter stars, none bri­gh­ter than fourth magni­tude. For per­si­stent star­ga­zers, Came­lo­par­da­lis pre­sents a deli­ght­ful chal­lenge and a good exer­cise in navi­ga­ting the dim­mer regions of the cele­stial sphere.

Also easily spot­ted is Cepheus, repre­sen­ting the mytho­lo­gi­cal king of Ethio­pia, hus­band of Cas­sio­peia and father of Andro­meda — all immor­ta­li­zed in nei­gh­bo­ring con­stel­la­tions. Tho­ugh he played a minor role in the myth of Andro­meda’s rescue by Per­seus, Pose­i­don hono­red (or per­haps puni­shed) him by pla­cing him in the sky with only modest stars.

Among all these con­stel­la­tions, Cas­sio­peia — queen of the nor­thern sky — stands out with her distinc­tive "W" (or "M") shape, making her one of the easiest con­stel­la­tions to iden­tify. Accor­ding to legend, Cas­sio­peia’s vanity bro­u­ght divine wrath upon her family. Today, her cele­stial form is a deli­ght to obse­rve and a help­ful refe­rence point for begin­ner astro­no­mers. Cas­sio­peia lies along the plane of the Milky Way, making it rich in open clu­sters and other intri­gu­ing objects to explore.

To the sou­the­ast of Cepheus and Cas­sio­peia lies the small con­stel­la­tion Lacerta — the Lizard — intro­du­ced in the 17th cen­tury by Polish astro­no­mer Johan­nes Heve­lius.

Near Cepheus lies our main object of inte­rest: the Iris Nebula, also known as NGC 7023. This reflec­tion nebula is loca­ted within the boun­da­ries of the Cepheus con­stel­la­tion and was disco­ve­red on Octo­ber 18, 1794, by Wil­liam Her­schel. It is situ­a­ted about 1,400 light-years from Earth.

Obse­rva­tions

March 21, 2025, aro­und 11:00 PM – Kamie­nica Pol­ska (Poland)
Con­di­tions: rural, rela­ti­vely low light pol­lu­tion

You never know when a great obse­rva­tion oppor­tu­nity will pre­sent itself — which is why it’s always wise to be pre­pa­red. This time, I was on a short trip, invi­ted to teach a class at a frien­dly school out­side the city. I wasn’t expec­ting any­thing spe­cial — just a quick geta­way. After the class, as I was unwin­ding at the hotel, I loo­ked out the win­dow and was struck by the sight of a bre­a­th­ta­kin­gly clear sky — deep, vast, and stud­ded with tho­u­sands of stars, bril­lian­tly visi­ble far from urban light pol­lu­tion. For­tu­na­tely, in kee­ping with my gol­den rule, I had bro­u­ght along my handy tra­vel tele­scope. I set it up on the hotel ter­race, sur­ro­un­ded by the quiet of the coun­try­side, aimed it at the sky, and began col­lec­ting light — pho­tons that had tra­ve­led across light-years of space to finally reach my eye and the tele­scope’s lens. That’s how the photo below was taken (Photo 2).

The Iris Nebula lies at the nor­thern edge of a vast mole­cu­lar cloud, which rema­ins vir­tu­ally invi­si­ble in opti­cal wave­leng­ths. Its glow comes from the bri­ght star SAO 19158, hid­den behind dense lay­ers of gas and dust. The star’s blue light reflects off tiny dust par­tic­les, giving the nebula its distinc­tive hue. Addi­tio­nally, the Iris Nebula emits large amo­unts of infra­red radia­tion, pro­du­ced by the micro­sco­pic dust gra­ins suspen­ded within it.

Para­me­try foto­gra­fii 2:

  • Total expo­sure time: 90 minu­tes (stack of 360 RAW fra­mes at 15s each)
  • DWARF3
  • Lens: f=150mm (aper­ture: 35mm)
  • Mount: pho­to­gra­phic tri­pod

Fur­ther rea­dings:

Marek Ples

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