Why am I an astronomer?

You may live next door to one and not even realize it.

It is possible you have put those late night noises down to cats playing in the backyard, or maybe caught a glimpse of a furtive, well wrapped-up figure lurking in the shadows at some ridiculous time of night. Assuming you didn’t call the police you have probably gone to sleep none the wiser as to the true nature of this elusive figure.

If so, it is quite likely that you share your street with an amateur astronomer.

People who pursue this most esoteric yet rewarding of hobbies are dedicated, curious (in both senses of the word) and scientifically literate individuals who get an uncommon satisfaction from observing or photographing the night sky.

Almost everyone has a casual interest in the stars, it is virtually impossible to be outside on a clear dark night and not glance up at the sky and wonder what you are looking at. Many people can probably identify a couple of constellations, maybe the Plough/Big Dipper (the name depends on which side of the Atlantic you call home) or majestic Orion, his glowing sword hanging down from his belt. Unfortunately this is probably as far as they take it, realizing that more detailed familiarity with the cosmos calls for spending long, often cold hours outside in the dark and even, heaven forbid, reading some books with quite long words in them!

For those who do take this hobby to a more serious level the rewards are seldom financial. In fact the costs of equipment can rapidly spiral to literally astronomical levels, once so called ‘aperture fever’ (the urge for ever larger telescopes) takes hold there is no potential end in sight. It is however possible to enjoy the night sky without selling your wife/house/Ferrari, although it has to be said the latter two are entirely superfluous once you have your eye glued to a telescope in the hunt for some faint nebula or galaxy. A wife is of course completely indispensible, who else is going to bring you cups of tea at 2 am when your toes have turned into ice cubes and you dare not head indoors for fear of ruining your dark adaptation?

(I realize that I am making some hideously un-politically correct and possibly misogynistic assumptions here but I think it is true to say that men outnumber women in the world of amateur astronomy by probably ten to one – I have no theory as to why this is, I think it may ultimately boil down to a ‘boys and their toys’ love of gadgets but I stand to be proven wrong.)

This is clearly Photoshopped or else taken from the brain of an amateur astronomer while they slept

So why do I number myself amongst this small band of antisocial individuals?

Ever since childhood I have had a fascination with optical instruments of all types, doubtless due in part to having a father who made spectacle lenses for a living, but also I think because I was born just in time to witness the first moon landings – I have very distinct memories of watching the early black and white shots of astronauts descending the ladder to set foot on that alien world.

Early experiments with discarded lenses and toilet roll tubes were less than spectacular successes but nonetheless proved that a telescope of some sort was required. When I was about 15 I procured a copy of a small book written by a gentleman called Reg Spry (a friend of Patrick Moore) called ‘How to build your own telescope’. This was a revelation, I saved up my cash and purchased a 6” mirror from David Hinds, a well respected UK manufacturer. With the addition of a couple of four foot long planks of wood, some plastic parcel binding strip and the drive shaft of an old Ford Escort I soon became the proud owner of a Newtonian reflector.

Optically it was superb, unfortunately the hardest part of observing anything now became the challenge of actually locating it in the eyepiece. Even at low powers the field of view of a telescope is miniscule, it is like trying to aim a rifle at a full stop about half a mile away. This, coupled with the light pollution that came with living in a big city in the UK meant I was mostly restricted to the moon and planets as targets. Nonetheless I persevered and was sometimes rewarded with a glimpse of a faint distant object in the eyepiece. This would of course necessitate my mother being called outside for a look, since she was not the dedicated geek I had become by this stage she would usually oblige by quickly running outside for a look before returning to the warmth and comfort of the house. Astronomy in the UK, especially in the winter, can be a chilly experience!

The archetypal amateur astronomer, the amazing Sir Patrick Moore

Last year I was fortunate enough to move to the USA, California to be specific, and as you can imagine the weather conditions here are ever so slightly more conducive to the pursuit of my hobby. Not only are the temperatures much higher on average but that bane of the astronomer, namely the cloud, is far less in evidence. Astronomy is one outdoor hobby which is utterly impossible to pursue, no matter how high the dedication of the individual, once a bank of thick low cloud rolls in for the night. I lost count of the number of lunar eclipses or meteor showers which I had no chance whatsoever of seeing due to inclement meteorological conditions.

So why have I stuck at it all these years?

Partly it is the thrill of actually seeing with your own eyes something which many people may have read about or even seen a photograph of – maybe the rings of Saturn or a bright nebula.

Partly it is the intellectual satisfaction of realizing that the photon of light which has just entered your eyeball has been travelling, in some cases, for literally millions of years – in fact the thing that you are ‘seeing’ may no longer exist.

But ultimately I think it is because astronomy, like no other science or hobby, gives you a true perspective on how small and insignificant we are in the cosmic scheme of things, and while you are at the eyepiece straining to catch a glimpse of some desperately faint gas cloud, or gazing in awe at the cloud belts of Jupiter, the petty squabbles of the human race and the stresses and strains of daily life vanish from your mind, if only temporarily, as you float out there in space next to the stars.