Category: BAFacts

BAFact Math: The Sun is mind-crushingly brighter than the faintest object ever seen. Seriously.

By Phil Plait | August 29, 2012 10:10 am

[BAFacts are short, tweetable astronomy/space facts that I post every day. On some occasions, they wind up needing a bit of a mathematical explanation. The math is pretty easy, and it adds a lot of coolness, which I’m passing on to you! You’re welcome.]

Today’s BAFact: How much brighter is the Sun than the faintest object ever seen? About Avogadro’s number times brighter.

Yesterday and the day before I wrote about how much brighter the Sun is than the Moon, and how much brighter the Sun is than the faintest star you can see (note that here I mean apparent brightness, that is, how bright it is in the sky, not how luminous it actually is). I have one more thing to add here.

Years ago, I worked on a Hubble Space Telescope camera called STIS – the Space Telescope Imaging Spectrograph. At the time, it was the most sensitive camera ever flown in space, and I was constantly amazed at what we saw using it.

Hubble did a series of observations called the Deep Fields: it stared at one spot in the sky for days, letting light from incredibly faint objects build up so that they could be detected. For the Deep Field South, STIS was used to observe a particular kind of galaxy, a quasar called J2233-606. The total observation time was over 150,000 seconds – nearly two days!

I worked on these images, and was chatting with a friend about them. We were astonished at the number of objects we could see, distant galaxies so faint that they were unnamed, uncategorized, because no one had ever seen them before. Playing with the numbers, we figured that the faintest objects we could see in the observations had a magnitude of about 31.5. That’s incredibly faint.

How faint, exactly?

The faintest star you can see with just your eye has a magnitude of about 6. Using the magnitude equation I wrote about earlier, plugging those numbers in we get

Brightness ratio = 2.512(31.5 – 6)) = 2.51225.5 = 16 billion

Wow.

But we can do better than that. A lot better. After all, the Sun is the brightest object in the sky, of course, with a magnitude of -26.7. Just for grins, how much brighter is the Sun than the faintest objects ever seen?

Brightness ratio = 2.512(31.5 – (-26.7)) = 2.51258.2 = 2 x 1023

Um.

That’s 200,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. 200 sextillion. Holy yikes.

That number is crushing my mind. It’s ridiculous. A sextillion is simply too big a number to grasp. And 200 of them? C’mon!

But hey, wait a sec…

Does the number 2 x 1023 look familiar to you? It does to me: it’s the same order of magnitude (factor of 10) as Avogadro’s number! It’s the number of atoms of an element in a mole of the element, where a mole is the number of atoms in 12 grams of pure carbon-12. I know, it’s an odd unit, but it’s handy in chemistry, and a lot of (geeky) folks have heard of it.

Avogadro’s number is actually about 6 x 1023. So if we could detect stars or galaxies just a hair more than a magnitude fainter, the ratio of the brightness of the Sun to those objects would be Avogadro’s number. Huh.

I’m not sure that helps, but it’s fun in a spectacularly nerdtastic kind of way.

Science, baby. I love this stuff!

Related Posts:

CATEGORIZED UNDER: Astronomy, BAFacts, Cool stuff, Science

BAFact Math: The Sun is 12 *trillion* times brighter than the faintest star you can see

By Phil Plait | August 28, 2012 10:00 am

[BAFacts are short, tweetable astronomy/space facts that I post every day. On some occasions, they wind up needing a bit of a mathematical explanation. The math is pretty easy, and it adds a lot of coolness, which I’m passing on to you! You’re welcome.]

Today’s BAFact: The Sun is 12 trillion times brighter than the faintest star you can see with your naked eye.

In yesterday’s BAFact, I showed how the Sun is about 400,000 times brighter than the full Moon – and I showed my math. That’s an amazing brightness difference, but while I was writing it I had to wonder: how much brighter is the Sun than the faintest star you can see?

The faintest stars visible to the naked eye have a magnitude of about 6. This depends on lots of stuff, like how dark the sky is, how good your eyesight is, and so on. Some people with excellent vision can see stars down to magnitude 7, and there are reports of a few extraordinary people who can see even fainter. But on a dark night, the average person can just barely see 6th magnitude stars.

Let’s use that number then. All we have to do is plug that into the equation I gave yesterday (and remembering that the Sun has a magnitude of -26.7):

Brightness ratio = 2.512(6 – (-26.7)) = 2.51232.7 = 12 trillion

Now, to be fair, that’s not really the brightness range your eyes can detect. You can’t look right at the Sun easily or comfortably; it’s simply too bright. So the range of brightness your eye can see is probably smaller.

We can put a lower limit on it easily enough using the Moon. The Moon is the second brightest object in the sky, and we know we can look at that easily enough, so let’s do that math (the Moon’s magnitude is -12.7 when it’s full):

Brightness ratio = 2.512(6 – (-12.7)) = 2.51218.7 = 30 million

Wow. So you can comfortably see objects over a brightness range of 30 million. That’s impressive! The eye is a pretty cool little machine.

As an aside, your eye isn’t linear; it’s logarithmic (in reality, it’s more complicated than this, and I’m simplifying, but close enough). In other words, a star giving off twice as much light doesn’t look twice as bright as another. The way your eye responds to light squeezes down the scale, making it easier to see fainter and brighter objects at the same time.

So how faint do objects get? Ah, that’ll be tomorrow’s BAFact. Stay tuned!

Related Posts:

CATEGORIZED UNDER: Astronomy, BAFacts
MORE ABOUT: magnitudes, Moon, star, Sun

BAFact Math: The Sun is 400,000 times brighter than the full Moon

By Phil Plait | August 27, 2012 10:02 am

[BAFacts are short, tweetable astronomy/space facts that I post every day. On some occasions, they wind up needing a bit of a mathematical explanation. The math is pretty easy, and it adds a lot of coolness, which I’m passing on to you! You’re welcome.]

Today’s BAFact: The Sun is 400,000 times brighter than the full Moon in the sky.

If you’ve ever looked at the full Moon through a telescope you know how painfully bright it can be. But you can do it if you squint, or use a mild filter to block some of the light.

On the other hand, if you try the same thing with the Sun (hint: don’t) you’ll end up with a fried retina and an eyeball filled with boiling vitreous humor.

So duh, the Sun is much brighter than the Moon. But how much brighter?

Astronomers use a brightness system called magnitudes. It’s actually been around for thousands of years, first contrived by the Greek astronomer Hipparchus. It’s a little weird: first, it’s not linear. That is, an object twice as bright as another doesn’t have twice the magnitude value. Instead, the system is logarithmic, with a base of 2.512. Blame Hipparchus for that: he figured the brightest stars were 100 times brighter than the dimmest stars, and used a five step system [Update: My mistake, apparently he didn’t know about the factor of 100, that came later.]. The fifth root of 100 = 2.512 (or, if you prefer, 2.5125 = 2.512 x 2.512 x 2.512 x 2.512 x 2.512 = 100), so there you go. I’ll give examples in a sec…

Secondly, the other weird thing about the magnitude system is that it’s backwards. A brighter star will have a lower number. It’s like an award; getting first place is better than third. So a bright star might be first magnitude, and a dimmer one third magnitude.

To figure out how much brighter one star actually is than another, subtract the brighter star’s magnitude from the dimmer one’s, and then take 2.512 to that power. As an example, the star Achernar has a magnitude of roughly 0.5. Hamal, the brightest star in the constellation of Aries, has a magnitude of 2.0. Therefore, Achernar is 2.512(2.0 – 0.5) = 2.5121.5 = 4 times brighter than Hamal. So you can say it’s four times brighter, or 1.5 magnitudes brighter. Same thing.

It’s weird, but actually pretty handy for astronomers. And it doesn’t stop at 0. A really bright object can have a negative magnitude, and the math still works. For example, Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky, has a magnitude of about -1.5 (making it 6 times as bright as Achernar – check my math if you want). Which brings us to the topic at hand…

The Moon is pretty bright, and when it’s full has a magnitude of about -12.7. That’s bright enough to read by! But the Sun is way, way brighter. It’s magnitude is a whopping -26.7. How much brighter is that?

Well, it’s 2.5(-12.7 – (-26.7)) = 2.514 = 400,000.

In other words, the Sun is 400,000 times brighter than the full Moon!

This would explain why you can look at the Moon easily enough with just your eye, but trying that with the Sun is not – wait for it, wait for it – a bright idea.

Image credit: NASA/SDO

Related Posts:

CATEGORIZED UNDER: Astronomy, BAFacts, Cool stuff
MORE ABOUT: brightness, magnitudes, Moon, Sun

BAFact Math: Jupiter is big enough to swallow all the rest of the planets whole

By Phil Plait | August 22, 2012 9:46 am

[BAFacts are short, tweetable astronomy/space facts that I post every day. On some occasions, they wind up needing a bit of a mathematical explanation. The math is pretty easy, and it adds a lot of coolness, which I’m passing on to you! You’re welcome.]

Today’s BAFact: Jupiter is so big you could fit every other planet in the solar system inside it with room to spare.

Volume is a tricky thing. Our brains are pretty good at judging relative linear sizes of things: this thing is twice as long as that thing, for example. But volume increases far more rapidly than linear size. Take a cube where each side is one centimeter. It has a volume of one cubic centimeter (cc). Now double the length of each side to 2 cm. It looks twice as big, but its volume goes up to 8 cc! The volume of a cube is a the length x width x height, so there you go.

Spheres are the same way: the volume increases with the cube of the radius. Specifically, volume = 4/3 x π x (radius)3. So one sphere might look slightly larger than another, but in fact have a lot more volume.

Such is the way of Jupiter. I see pictures of it compared to the other planets, and honestly Saturn looks only slightly smaller – Saturn’s radius is about 60,000 km compared to Jupiter’s 71,000. But that turns out to make a huge difference in volume!

Here’s a table I created to compare the planets. The first number column is the planet’s equatorial radius in kilometers (the biggest planets aren’t perfect spheres, but as you’ll see this doesn’t matter). The second number column is the volume in cubic km based on that radius. The third is the volume of the planet divided by the volume of Jupiter (so that ratio = 1 for Jupiter itself). The last column is the same, but rounded to two decimal places to make it easier to read.

The big conclusion here is pretty obvious when you look at that last column. Even though Saturn is only a little smaller than Jupiter, it only has 60% of the big guy’s volume! Uranus and Neptune together are only another 9%. If you combine all the planets in our solar system, they add up to only about 70% of Jupiter’s volume. That leaves a lot of room left over for all the moons and asteroids in the solar system, too!

So Jupiter really is a monster. There’s a half-joke astronomers say: The solar system consists of the Sun, Jupiter, and assorted rubble. As you can see, that’s really not that far off from the truth!

Image credit: NASA

Related Posts:

MORE ABOUT: BAFacts, Jupiter, math, Saturn, volume

BAFacts: Halfway there!

By Phil Plait | July 16, 2012 10:30 am

On January 4, 2012, I posted my first BAFact: a short astronomy fact that was brief enough to put on Twitter but informative enough to be interesting. I posted the first one on perihelion – the point in Earth’s orbit when it’s closest to the Sun – and the last one will be a year later.

Because 2012 is a leap year with 366 days, July 5th was the 184th day: the first day of the second half of the year. That means I’m more than halfway done!* Appropriately enough, here’s the July 5 BAFact:

I post the BAFacts on Twitter, Google+ (where I can flesh them out a bit more – and add pictures – since there’s no character limit), and have a complete archive of them on the blog as well. With 180+ already in the bag, reading those should keep you busy for a while!

I generally link them to previous blog posts dealing with the topic in question, but not always. I’ve actually been surprised at how difficult it can be to reduce a topic to 100 or so characters (leaving room for the leading "#BAFact: " and shortened link, plus room for retweets), and how that limits some topics. I have also been surprised to find out I haven’t written about some topics! For example, I was thinking recently of making a BAFact about the nearest known black hole, Cygnus X-1, and discovered I had literally never even mentioned it in a blog post! That’s weird… but by coincidence that got fixed just this last weekend.

So this exercise in brevity has given me new things to write about. I’ll note that there have been arguments over the accuracy of some of the BAFacts, too. Sometimes that’s just due to having to be so brief that the description might be misleading if you don’t click the link; I struggle with those but usually make them as clear as possible, and hope people actually read the post to clarify. And once I really did just make a mistake; as I recently mentioned I didn’t know that recent research had found that zodiacal light is mostly from comet dust and not asteroid collisions, and had to post an immediate correction! But that’s OK; I love learning new things, too.

So as we enter the second half of these, I hope you keep up with them and enjoy them. And if you have a beef with them, find a mistake, have something to add, or know of a good picture or story relating to them, follow it up with a tweet of your own! The whole point here is to have fun and learn things. Which, when it comes to science, are exactly the same.

* Well, kinda. Perihelion is actually on January 2, 2013, roughly a day earlier than usual because we have an extra calendar day this year. The Earth orbits the Sun not caring at all for our calendrical contrivances, so when the time comes I’ll decide whether to post the last BAFact based on the Earth’s orbit our roughly-hewn measurement of it.

The softly glowing zodiac: lesson learned

By Phil Plait | July 12, 2012 6:57 am

Every day I post a short, pithy astronomy or space fact on Twitter and Google+. I call them BAFacts, and I have them all archived here on the blog. I try to make them as accurate as possible within the limitation of 140 characters. But I wrote one recently that, as it turns out, I had to retract for being incorrect. And I’m happy about it! Here’s why.

I recently was going through old posts and saw one that mentioned zodiacal light, a very faint glow in the sky that can only be seen on very dark nights. It’s a band of light that follows the path of the planets across the sky, which is technically called the ecliptic. It passes through the constellations of the zodiac, hence its name*.

This picture of the zodiacal light is by friend of the BABlog Brad Goldpaint [click to embiggen, and note this is a part of a larger shot that’s breathtaking]. The two bright "stars" are Venus and Jupiter, and you can see the glow from zodiacal light reaching up and to the left, following the ecliptic.

The origin of zodiacal light (when I learned about it, years ago) was thought to be dust from asteroid collisions. Asteroids out past Mars orbit pretty much in the same plane as the planets. When they smack into each other – and they do – they make dust. This reflects sunlight, so we’d see it as a faint band of light across the ecliptic. Case closed!

BAFact math: Give him an inch and he'll take a light year

By Phil Plait | June 18, 2012 10:23 am

[BAFacts are short, tweetable astronomy/space facts that I post every day. On some occasions, they wind up needing a bit of a mathematical explanation. The math is pretty easy, and it adds a lot of coolness, which I’m passing on to you! You’re welcome.]

Today’s BAFact: To scale, if the Earth/Sun distance were one inch, a light year would be exactly one mile.

Humans have a miserable sense of scale. Space is huge – that’s why we call it "space" – but how huge? Here’s a fun trick my friend Dan Durda pointed out to me many years ago when we were in college together (forgive my not using metric units, but what the heck, this only works in imperial):

The average distance of the Earth to the Sun (what we call an astronomical unit) is about 92.8 million miles. If you made a scale model of the solar system where that distance were equal to one inch, then one mile in the model would be almost exactly a light year in the real world!

The math is easy. One light year is the distance light travels in a year. The speed of light is 186,282 miles/second, and distance equals speed multiplied by time. So:

186,282 mi/sec x 86,400 sec/day x 365.25 days/year = 5.88 trillion miles

[Note: I’m rounding the answer to two decimal places for ease of comparison.]

OK, now what about our scale? There are 12 inches to a foot, and 5280 feet to a mile. That means there are

12 in/ft x 5280 ft/mile = 63,360 inches/mile

If we let 1 inch = 92.8 million miles, then 63,360 inches = 5.88 trillion miles.

See? To two decimal places the scale is exact! In real life the Earth orbits the Sun in an ellipse, so there’s a roughly 3% change in distance over time. But if we just take the average distance, this works perfectly.

So the next time you’re out driving, keep that in mind… The nearest known star to the Sun is Proxima Centauri, roughly 4.2 light years away. That means it’s 4.2 miles away to scale, and at 60 mph would take over four minutes to reach. At that same speed, you’re crossing the entire Earth/Sun distance in less than one-thousandth of second!

If you really tried to drive from the Earth to the Sun (and there were a heavenly highway connecting them) at that speed it would take over 175 years.

From a scale model millisecond to more than a century. Did I mention space is big?

Original image credit: sebikus/shutterstock.com

Related Posts:

CATEGORIZED UNDER: Astronomy, BAFacts, Cool stuff, Geekery, Space

BAFact math: how big does the Sun look from Pluto?

By Phil Plait | March 16, 2012 10:16 am

[On January 4, 2012, I started a new features: BAFacts, where I write an astronomy/space fact that is short enough to be tweeted. A lot of them reference older posts, but some of the facts need a little mathematical explanation. When that happens I’ll write a post like this one that does the math so you can see the numbers for yourself. Why? Because MATH!]

Today’s BAFact:

From Pluto, the Sun is so far away it would appear to be a point in the sky like a star, though an incredibly bright one.

Yesterday, I showed how the Sun would still be painfully bright even from Pluto, far brighter than the full Moon looks from here on Earth. But how big would it look in the sky?

It turns out, that math is even easier than it was to find the brightness! The size of an object on the sky depends on how big it really is, physically, and how far away it is. If you double the distance to an object, it will appear half the size. Easy peasy*.

So, as I established yesterday, on average Pluto is about 39 times farther from the Sun than the Earth, so if you were standing on Pluto (hopefully, in a well-heated and insulated spacesuit!) the Sun would appear 1/39th as big, or 0.026 times as big as it does from Earth.

What would that look like?

Well, the size of the Sun in the sky from Earth is about a half a degree — remember, there are 360° in a circle. So from the horizon to the zenith is 90°, and your outstretched fist is very roughly 10°. The Sun is about 0.5°, so you can block it with a single finger held at arm’s length.

From Pluto, though, it’s far smaller: less than 1 arcminute in size (a degree is divided into 60 arcminutes, so from Earth the Sun is about 30 arcmin across). That brings up an interesting point: the smallest size the human eye can easily resolve is something about an arcminute across. Anything smaller than that looks like a dot.

So from Pluto, the Sun would look like a star — that is, a point of light — albeit an intensely bright one. Looking at it would certainly be painful, and probably make your eyes tear up.

But wait! I also mentioned yesterday that Pluto’s orbit is an ellipse, and it goes from 4.4 billion to 7.3 billion km from the Sun. That’s a factor of 29 to 49 times the Earths distance from the Sun. So that shrinks the size of the Sun accordingly. When Pluto is farthest from the Sun (called aphelion) the Sun is far less than an arcminute in size, and looks like a dot. When Pluto is closest to the Sun (perihelion) it will actually be just about one arcminute in diameter. Someone with sharp eyes might be able to perceive it as a disk rather than a point of light… though that would still be really tough to do, because the Sun’s still so bright. If you had a filter in your spacesuit visor you’d be able to see the disk of the Sun.

If you’re curious, blogger Burton MacKenzie made a simple diagram showing how big the Sun is from each of the planets (thumbnail shown here; click to ensolarnate). He didn’t put Pluto on it, but from there the Sun would look even smaller on average than it does from Neptune.

Never forget: the solar system is big! The New Horizons probe was launched in early 2006, is screaming across the solar system at 15 km/sec (fast enough to cross the entire US in about 5 minutes!) but still won’t pass Pluto until mid-2015.

Space is deep, vast, and empty. From far enough away, even the Sun itself would be dimmed to invisibility. If there’s a life lesson in there somewhere, feel free to find it.

Image credit: ESO, annotated by me

* Well, almost easy peasy. This only works well if the object is far enough away that it appears small to you. There’s actually a trigonometric formula to do this exactly, but it hardly matters; for something the size of the Sun, even at Mercury’s distance, saying its apparent size changes linearly with distance is OK.

CATEGORIZED UNDER: Astronomy, BAFacts, Cool stuff, Debunking
MORE ABOUT: angular size, Pluto, Sun

BAFact math: How bright is the Sun from Pluto?

By Phil Plait | March 15, 2012 11:07 am

[On January 4, 2012, I started a new features: BAFacts, where I write an astronomy/space fact that is short enough to be tweeted. A lot of them reference older posts, but some of the facts need a little mathematical explanation. When that happens I’ll write a post like this one that does the math so you can see the numbers for yourself. Why? Because MATH!]

Today’s BAFact:

From Pluto, the Sun is fainter than it is from Earth, but still can be 450x brighter than the full Moon.

I remember reading a science fiction story many years ago which took place on Pluto. The author described the Sun as being so faint that it looked like just another bright star (too bad I don’t remember the name of the story anymore). I was thinking about that again recently, and wondered just how bright the Sun does look from Pluto. This turns out to be pretty easy to calculate!

First, you need to understand how an object like the Sun — really, any source of light — dims with distance. The Sun emits light in all directions, so as you get farther away from the Sun, that light gets spread out. Imagine a sphere perfectly encasing the Sun right at its surface. Each square centimeter has a certain amount of light passing through it. If I double the size of the sphere, there’s a lot more surface area to that sphere, but the total amount of light passing through it hasn’t changed. Therefore the amount of light passing through each square centimeter has dropped. Since I doubled the sphere’s diameter, I can figure out how much its dropped, too!

The formula for the surface area of a sphere is

Surface area = 4 × π × radius 2

If I double the size of the sphere, everything on the right side of the equation stays the same except for the radius, which is now twice as big. Therefore the area increases by 22 = 4. So the light passing through each square centimeter of the bigger sphere drops by a factor of four. Someone standing on that sphere would see the Sun being 1/4 as bright as if they were on the surface.

If I make the sphere ten times bigger, the area goes up by 10 × 10 = 100 times, and the brightness drops by 100. You get the picture.

So now we’re ready to figure out how bright the Sun is from Pluto!

The Earth orbits the Sun, on average, at a distance of about 150 million km. Pluto has a very elliptical orbit, but has an average distance of about 5.9 billion kilometers, or roughly 39 times the Earth’s distance from the Sun. Using the method above, the Sun must be 392 = about 1500 times fainter, or more grammatically correctly, 0.00065 times as bright. That’s pretty faint!

Or is it? Well, let’s compare that to how bright the full Moon looks from Earth. To us here at home, the Sun is about 400,000 times brighter than the full Moon, so even from distant, frigid Pluto, on average the Sun would look more than 250 times brighter than the full Moon does from Earth!

Pluto’s orbit is also highly elliptical, stretching from 4.4 billion km to just over 7.3 billion km from the Sun. Doing the math again, that means the Sun goes from being 0.0012 to 0.0004 as bright as it is from Earth: a range of roughly 150 to 450 times as bright as the Moon from Earth. That’s a change in brightness by a factor of three!

Still, given that you can read by the light of the full Moon, obviously the Sun from Pluto is still pretty dang intense. It would hardly look like just any other star: it would greatly outshine everything else in the sky. Painful to look at, most likely. So the short story I read was wrong, but at least we learned something. That’s a decent trade.

And let me leave you with a question: From Pluto, how big would the Sun look? Ah, that’s a BAFact for another day. Tomorrow, actually!

Image credit: Dan Durda, showing Pluto, its moon Charon, and the Sun.

CATEGORIZED UNDER: Astronomy, BAFacts, Cool stuff, Top Post

Announcing BAFacts: a daily dose of sciencey fun

By Phil Plait | January 4, 2012 11:16 am

I’m happy to announce I’m rolling out a new feature: BAFacts, a short daily factoid about this strange and fun Universe we live in. Every day in the mid-afternoon GMT (in the morning for most of the US) I’ll tweet something I find interesting, cool, or gee-whizlike. They’ll all be about science, mostly space and astronomy, but really anything that catches my fancy is fair game.

Some will have links for more info (if the tweet itself is short enough to accommodate one). I’ll also post them in my Google+ stream, and I’ll include more info there when I can. I’ll use the hashtag #BAFacts to make them easy to find. I have also created a BAFact archive where I’ll list the previous BAFacts.

I started thinking about doing this months ago, and always found some reason to delay the launch. Maybe, I would think, it would be better to do it this way, or post it that way… but I decided that the best way to do something new in social media is to do it. Get it out there, and fiddle with it later if something comes up that can improve it.

So maybe I’ll figure out how to add more links, or pictures, or math, or whatever. I’m happy to take suggestions. But for now, BAFacts launches today…

And just why am I starting BAFacts today? As I wrote earlier, today is perihelion, when the Earth is closest to the Sun in its orbit. It’s something of a coincidence that it happens so close to New Year’s (according to the standard Gregorian calendar most of the planet uses these days). It’s funny: the first day of the year is pretty arbitrary when you think about it, but the point of perihelion is an actual, physical thing, not arbitrary at all. It would actually make a kind of sense to start our year on that day… except that the Earth’s orbit isn’t like a racetrack; it changes shape every year due to the influence of the other planets, so the precise time and day of perihelion changes by a day or so every year. Oh well.

Still, it’s something of a milestone in our orbit, and since it’s close to New Year’s day it’s an appropriate time to start something new. It was either today, or wait until the Vernal Equinox in March, and I didn’t want to wait that long!

I hope y’all enjoy it, and get as much of a kick reading them as I do writing them.

NEW ON DISCOVER
OPEN
CITIZEN SCIENCE