Summer Twilight

Summertime is always a dilemma for me as an astronomer. I love the deep dark nights of winter and the brilliance of the stars in the cool crisp air. But I also enjoy the splendour of a long linger twilight under the watchful gaze of a waxing Moon.

As the Sun dips below the horizon I see a cloudless sky spanning many a shade of blue and brilliant Moon acting as a guardian of the sky as it stands out as the only object visible. How tantalising close it appears, and yet so far. It is easy to see, as the sky slowly darkens, how ancient cultures grew to love the Moon and its reassurance presence as the continuation of the heavenly cycle as the Sun dives from view.

Yet in the modern world there are other contrasts as I wait for the first stars to emerge. Aircraft travelling high overhead leave contrails with a pinkish red hue as they pick up the last rays of the Sun. Occasionally the plane is illuminated as it catches a final glimpse of the setting Sun. And still the Moon grows brighter.

Nature, though has one last trick and swallows swoop overhead looking for a home for the night and the occasional bat darts and dives around the houses as it heads for a night's hunting.

Finally the planets and stars spring into view. Venus dazzles in the western sky; Mars is findable as a red beacon in the binoculars, and lurking neat the Moon is Saturn. Then the three cornerstones of Altair, Deneb and Vega burst forth to form the Summer Triangle and the all to brief night sky finally emerges.