Two second exposure right after the previous image.

I would really like to be able to show more detail, but either the D40x is unable to capture the level of detail, or I need a bigger tele. The RAW images I took didn't turn out any better. Then again I haven't really had much practice with this yet.

Two young lads, around nine or so, and their dog stopped to see what I was doing.

After I explained what was happening to the Moon, I directed them towards the Big Dipper; they knew the shape but had only ever seen it in pictures, and they were able to tell Mizar and Alcor apart. They'd never noticed the Milky Way before, or the slanted W in the sky that is Cassiopeia. Jupiter shone like a little red dot west of the Moon, which was pretty cool. And a look at the moon, half covered by Earth's shadow, through the binoculars that I'd brought along, showed it like the sphere that it really is, rather than just a flat yellow chunk of cheese. I think they discovered that the sky is a cool thing even when it isn't on TV.

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Image no. DSC_1537

At 10:40 the same night, only a portion of the moon still remained in the half-shade. It didn't go all the way in; a sliver of moon arc stayed brilliantly lit compared to the shadow parts.

Crop from 200mm tele-zoom, 1/10 second at ISO 100, properly mounted on a tripod this time.

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Image no. DSC_1530

On the evening of August 16th, exactly two weeks after the solar eclipse in my previous post, and after hardly any mention at all in the media, I accidentally discovered that a considerable portion of the Moon had gone missing. Thanks to colleague Kim for pointing that out.

Almost precisely 10pm, the moon was already completely within the half-shade of the Earth, and had started its descent into the core shadow.

Crop from 200mm tele-zoom supported on windowsill at work just before heading home. 1/80 second at ISO 400 due to lack of tripod.

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Image no. DSC_1516

This one is fresh off the camera, taken at maximum at about 11:34am here a bit west of Oslo, Norway.

(Cropped down to 1200×800 from a full 10Mpix original)

Used a 200mm telezoom and a pair of solar eclipse protection eyeglasses in front of the lens, covering the gaps with my fingers. I noticed afterwards that I fudged up a bit and forgot about the ISO, which was at 400. At 1/320 sec shutter time I could at least have afforded 200, or perhaps even 100.

Anyway, this is as far as it went around here. Anyone who wanted to see totality would have to be at Kvitøya, Svalbard, at 11:47 today. If you weren't, then I'm afraid you're too late.

“Fly me to the moon”
Those with a few bobs extra to spend could book a seat on a plane that followed the shadow of totality as it swept across the Earth, increasing the time of totality by about 31 seconds.
Link (Norwegian text)

DSC_1400c.jpg

What the maximum of the eclipse might have looked like from where I'm at, had not the sky been covered with a thick, white layer of cloud. Screenshot from the program Starry Night Beginner, with an inset (top left) of a photo of the actual eclipse from Manavgat, Turkey.

On account of being sick, I missed out on the solar eclipse today. That is, on account of being sick I forgot about it and missed totality. On account of the weather, however, I missed out on the whole thing. There's not a lot to be seen in a sky which is a uniform white from horizon to horizon.

When I say I missed out on totality, that's also juggling the truth a bit. I'm right outside Oslo, which means that only a few percent of the sun's disc would be covered even at maximum. But when I did remember about the eclipse, I was about 20 minutes late for the peak of the event. The eclipse is still in progress, barely, and I take the liberty of posting a photo taken by someone else.

This is from a live webcam in Turkey, right smack bam in the middle of the shadow, although the picture shown is taken just when I got to the webcam page at 13:13 CET (DST). [Link]

Photo by Tom Victor Kolkin for www.astronomi.no. These images may be used freely for non-commercial purposes.

Fullsize capture of the projection in the previous post.

Changed this one to grayscale to get rid of chromatic errors from the binoculars, and increased contrast and decreased gamma to make it look more «proper». Surprisingly good result, if I may say so myself. By the way, the bright area on the top left is just a lack of shadow and has nothing to do with the eclipse itself.

This is the safest way to look at the Sun during an eclipse, or indeed at any time. Point your binoculars towards the Sun, place a sheet of paper or other suitable material behind it, and make sure the projection falls on a shaded area. Adjust the focus on the binoculars and – voila – you have a Camera Obscura* version of a solar observatory on, or in, your hands. This is more or less like a real camera works, just without the roll of film (or digital CCD). The farther the sheet behind is from the binoculars in front, the bigger the projected image. If your binoculars are good enough and you get the focus right, you may even see sunspots. Mine, apparently, aren't good enough ;)

* A real Camera Obscura doesn't have a lens. Instead it works by letting light pass through a tiny hole – but I'll cheerfully ignore that fact for the moment.

Clocking in at 11:14am CET, two minutes past maximum. This, apparently, is what a 38% exlipse looks like.

Here you see even more clearly how difficult it is to keep the binoculars setup steady.

October 3rd at 10:19am CET, ten minutes into the eclipse.

Digital camera and binoculars, with protective solar eclipse sunglasses in front. And a tripod. As usual, holding the binoculars still is a nightmare. I want a proper telescope with a camera mount for Christmas :)

I tried the trick of looking through two CD's, and my conclusion is that it's nowhere near enough. Even three discs left me with spots of light dancing around my eyes afterwards. I suspect that although they dim the visible light, they let way too much UV-light through. In which case you risk giving your retinas a permanent tan.