Howdy Star Gazers and welcome to this episode
of Star Trails. Drew here, and I'll be your guide
to the night sky for the week starting August
the 10th to the 16th. This week the Perseids
peak Mercury returns Jupiter and Venus cozy up
and in the second half of our show We turn our
noses to the sky and learn what space smells
like Whether you're tuning in from the backyard
the balcony or just your imagination. I'm glad
you're here So find a cozy spot. Let your eyes
adjust and let's see what the sky holds for us
this week We're coming off the bright and bold
sturgeon moon, which peaked just before this
week began. That means we start with a waning
gibbous, and as each night passes, the moon shrinks
and rises later, giving us a little more breathing
room for darker skies. By week's end, we'll reach
last quarter. This half -moon phase rises around
midnight and lingers through the early morning.
So while the moon's brightness will wash out
the fainter stars and objects for a few nights,
conditions improve dramatically midweek for stargazing
and meteor hunting. Speaking of meteor showers,
this is the one. The Perseids are peaking this
week, officially on August 12th and 13th. Normally,
this would be a real showstopper with upwards
of 100 meteors per hour under ideal conditions.
But we've got a problem. The bright waning gibbous
moon is going to be hanging out near the radiant
point, Perseus, and flooding the sky with light.
That doesn't mean you won't see anything, but
it will cut the number of visible meteors way
down. Expect perhaps a dozen or so per hour,
and mostly the brightest ones. Your best bet?
Get out during the predawn hours of the 13th,
find a spot with a clear view of the sky, and
try to block the moon with a building or a tree.
And here's a wild card, the Kappa signids. They're
a minor shower that also peaks around August
the 16th, and while they only deliver a few meteors
per hour, they're known for occasional fireballs.
If you're out late anyway, it's worth keeping
an eye out. Their origins are still a bit mysterious,
just the way we like it. Now, let's talk planets,
because this week brings one of the prettiest
planetary pairings of the year. In the pre -dawn
eastern sky, look low near the horizon around
August 11th and 12th, and you'll spot Venus and
Jupiter just a single degree apart. That's close
enough to cover with your fingertip at arm's
length. Venus is the brighter of the two, but
both will be striking, especially if you're up
early. And there's more. Mercury ends its retrograde
on August the 11th, and while it's still tricky
to see, it's starting to climb back into the
dawn. Meanwhile, Saturn rises in the southeast
just after midnight and is beautifully placed
for telescope viewing by the wee hours. Neptune
is hanging around nearby too, but at magnitude
7 .8, you'll need binoculars or a scope. Still,
it's fun to know you're staring at a planet nearly
3 billion miles away. It's August, so you'll
still see the summer triangle this week. Vega,
Deneb, and Altair holding court high overhead.
But let's talk about some underdogs. First up,
Sagitta, the arrow. This one's tiny, just four
stars forming a narrow spear below Volpecula,
but it punches above its weight in charm. Its
brightest star, Gamma Sagittae, is an orange
giant that's quietly burning out in the background
of the Milky Way. Another one worth your time
is Draco, the dragon. It winds its way around
the Little Dipper and never really sets for those
of us in the Northern Hemisphere. Hidden within
its coils is the Cat's Eye Nebula, one of the
most complex planetary nebula we know of. If
you've got a scope and good skies, go check it
out. We've talked about the Ring Nebula before,
but what about its louder cousin? Check out the
Dumbbell Nebula, also known as Messier 27, hanging
out in Volpecula. It's a planetary nebula about
1200 light years away. formed when a dying star
blew off its outer layers. You'll find it nestled
within the summer triangle, and it's bright enough
to spot with binoculars under dark skies. If
you want a challenge, go after the cocoon nebula
in Cygnus. It's a beautiful combination of reflection
and emission nebula with a dark tail of dust
called Bernard 168. That makes it look like a
tiny comet with its hair on fire. And, if you
have a telescope and a dark, southern horizon,
you might just catch a glimpse of the Helix Nebula
in Aquarius, sometimes called the Eye of God.
It's one of the closest planetary nebula to Earth,
and also one of the most haunting. For an added
challenge, try finding V Sagittae, a star in
the Sagittae constellation I mentioned earlier.
It's a binary system destined to merge and explode
in a nova sometime around 2083. When it does,
it'll briefly rival Sirius in brightness. For
now, it's just another humble spec, but you'll
be able to say, I saw it before it blew. While
you're out watching the Perseids this week, consider
this. Back on August 10th, 1972, something extraordinary
happened. In broad daylight, a massive fireball
streaked across the skies of the western United
States and Canada. Not at night, in daylight.
It was so bright, it cast shadows. It triggered
sonic booms, and it scared the hell out of anyone
who happened to be looking up. Known as the Great
Daylight Fireball, it entered Earth's atmosphere
at a shallow angle, about 35 miles above Utah,
and traveled northward at hypersonic speed, eventually
exiting back into space somewhere over Alberta.
That's right, it didn't burn up, it bounced off
our atmosphere like a cosmic skipping stone.
Scientists called it an earth -grazing fireball,
and this one was big, estimated to be the size
of a small car, and moving at nearly 9 miles
per second. Had it entered at a steeper angle,
it could have struck with the force of a small
nuclear device. Instead, it just gave us a show
and left behind an eerie contrail that lingered
in the sky. The entire event was photographed,
filmed, and even tracked by US military satellites.
In a time before smartphones, it still managed
to go viral, at least by 1972 standards. Before
we head on, I want to pause for a moment to remember
Commander Jim Lovell, who passed away last week
at the age of 97. Lovell flew on Gemini 7, Gemini
12, Apollo 8, and of course, Apollo 13. These
were missions that carried humanity to new heights
and, in one case, brought a crew safely home
against staggering odds. He was there for Earth's
first journey around the moon, and he was the
calm center during Apollo 13's long, dangerous
return. His legacy isn't just written in mission
logs, it's in the way he showed us that even
when things go wrong, ingenuity and teamwork
can carry us through. Coming up, astronauts can't
take their helmets off to catch a whiff of outer
space, but we do know what it smells like. That's
after the break. Stay with us. Today I want to
talk about something that's just a little out
of left field or out of the airlock really Something
that you've probably never associated with astronomy.
Let's talk about the smell of space and Now I
know you're thinking space doesn't have an atmosphere.
So how can it have a smell and that is true?
Space is a vacuum and a vacuum doesn't carry
scent the way air does But if you talk to astronauts,
especially those who've done spacewalks outside
the International Space Station, they'll tell
you otherwise. In fact, some have remarked that
when they come back in from the void, their suits,
even the airlock, carry a distinct smell. One
they often describe as metallic, burnt, like
welding fumes, or seared steak, or ozone after
a lightning storm. So basically, space stinks.
Well, maybe that's a little harsh, but there's
definitely a smell. NASA astronauts like Peggy
Whitson, Thomas Jones, and Chris Hadfield have
all reported it. When the cabin repressurizes
and they crack open the hatch, they say there's
a unique lingering odor that clings to their
suits. Hadfield described it as a rather pleasant
metallic sensation. like sweet -smelling welding
fumes. Others have likened it to the smell of
gunpowder, burnt metal, or a hot engine. One
astronaut even said it reminded him of the air
after a fireworks display. So what causes it?
Although space doesn't have an atmosphere like
Earth, it does contain trace elements, free -floating
atoms, ions, solar particles, and cosmic dust.
Most of the time, they're too sparse to notice,
but in certain conditions, especially outside
a space station where machinery is exposed to
a vacuum, UV radiation, and the solar wind, interesting
things happen. One of the main suspects behind
the so -called space smell is a group of molecules
known as polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons. These
are complex carbon -based molecules formed when
carbon atoms bond together in ring shapes. You'll
find them here on Earth in things like grilled
meat, car exhaust, forest fires, and industrial
fumes. Basically, anything that's been burned
or scorched probably released these hydrocarbons.
And, as it turns out, they're pretty common in
space too, especially in places where stars are
forming or dying. So when an astronaut goes for
a spacewalk, their suit gets bombarded by high
-energy particles. The materials of the suit
and the station itself interact with oxygen and
ultraviolet radiation, triggering subtle chemical
changes. When they return inside, the sudden
reintroduction of air allows these altered particles
to react, and that's when the smell kicks in.
It's not space itself that has a scent. It's
what space does to the things we send into it.
Now, let's take a deeper look or smell. These
aromatic hydrocarbons I mentioned, they are found
in vast clouds of gas and dust throughout the
galaxy. In fact, when we peer into the nebula
with space telescopes like the James Webb or
the old Spitzer infrared telescope, we often
detect these hydrocarbons by the light they emit.
These molecules are ancient. Some scientists
believe that they could have played a role in
the origin of life on Earth. They're carbon rich,
complex, and durable. Three things that life
tends to like. So when astronauts say space smells
like burnt steak or welding fumes, they're literally
catching a whiff of star stuff. Cooked carbon.
the chemical echoes of dying stars and expanding
galaxies, its cosmic perfume. And speaking of
perfume, NASA actually commissioned a chemist
and a perfumer named Steve Pearce to recreate
the smell of space back in the early 2000s. They
wanted to use it in astronaut training simulations,
so space rookies wouldn't be surprised when that
burnt metal smell hit them post -EVA. Pierce
worked with astronaut reports and chemical analysis
to design a fragrance that mimicked the effect.
He even worked on a scent profile for the moon.
It was something like spent gunpowder mixed with
dust and dry minerals, as described by Apollo
astronauts. Years later, these scents were released
commercially in limited fashion under names like
Ode to Space and Moon Smell. I'd caution against
trying these as date night fragrances unless
your date is into planetary science, in which
case you've probably hit the jackpot. While we
think of the universe as cold, empty, and silent,
it's also textured, tangible, and even aromatic.
We tend to think of smell as something grounded
and earthly, baking bread, fresh rain. hot asphalt,
but space has its own language of scent through
the chemistry of combustion and radiation and
through the invisible fingerprints of molecules
drifting across the cosmos. Space may not smell
like roses, but it smells like creation. If the
stars spoke to you this week or if a question's
been on your mind, I'd love to hear it. Visit
our website, StarTrails .Show, where you can
contact me and explore past episodes. Be sure
to follow us on Blue Sky and YouTube. Links are
in the show notes. Until we meet again beneath
the stars, clear skies, everyone.