Area 377
For the first time in this series of articles, I am writing about the same subject, Comet Olbers, twice in a row. This time I observed the comet using an unusual small telescope, a 4-inch reflector named Cole. Joshua Cole is the central character in one of my Dad’s favorite childhood novels, Cole of Spyglass Mountain. At the end of this beautiful story, Cole is informed that his discovery of life on Mars has been confirmed, and the book’s closing thought is this: “First to Report Discovery: Cole of Spyglass Mountain, famous in a night.”
On Sunday, evening, 7 July 2024, I joined my colleagues Tim Hunter and James McGaha at Tim’s Grasslands Observatory. While they prepared for an evening of astrophotography, I set Cole up outside and began an hour of comet hunting in the northwest. At first the comet seemed elusive. But as I searched I noticed a familiar 10-square degree patch of sky. This was area 377, and right away it brought me back to my teenage years, when I began observing with friends at the Montreal Centre of the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada. Among their many observing programs was an organized comet and nova search. The sky was divided into 438 discrete areas, and I was assigned two: Area 40, which included Vega and its constellation of Lyra, and 377, south of the Big Dipper’s bowl. For years I faithfully checked these areas until the program, like some of the comets it never found, faded away more than half a century ago.
Tonight was different. By sighting along some of the star patterns in area 377 I found a spot. Slowly I moved Cole through this region of stars. And then, just like that! There it was, Comet Olbers, a little east of Area 377, brighter than it was last month, and sporting a nice 1-degree long tail. Tim and James were able to spot it using Cole, and later through binoculars.
Comets mark the passage of our lives. My great-grandson Beau will be nearing the middle of his life when Halley returns, and his grandchildren may pause to take a look at Olbers’ comet when it next visits at the end of this century. But whether they see these celestial apparitions or not, may they at least have the will to pause in their lives, and reflect upon the great cosmic clock that chimes not on the hour but at any minute when something new, different, and mesmerizing pays a visit to the planet that is our home.
