Tuesday, June 24, 2008

A Good Start

I'm back in Buenos Aires. I am here to describe fractures in core from the Quintuco Formation (Jurassic-Cretaceous). It's going okay, but this type of thing can be challenging to the point of frustration, especially in vertical core, which is poorly oriented to intersect vertical fractures. Nightly I try to relax and recharge. This morning's alarm helped greatly. I've always thought, and I don't believe I'm alone here, that Grieg's Morning from Peer Gynt is basically the ideal wakeup music, and what do you know? on the classical music station I programmed my hotel's clock radio to wake me up to (at a pleasant, low volume nonetheless) it came on, nearly exactly on time. Best wakeup call ever! I positively floated to the lab.

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

Rigil Kent Sighting

I finally made it down to the Southern Hemisphere (Buenos Aires, to be exact) last week. My handy-dandy Peterson Field Guide to Stars and Planets informed me that the Southern Cross would be high in the sky at night. I, of course, would be in downtown Buenos Aires, which is not the fertilest ground for stargazing, if not for light pollution then for the close spacing of tallish buildings near my hotel. Nevertheless I thought I'd go out front Thursday night and take a peek.

So as not to appear like a moron looking for stars in downtown Buenos Aires, and so to keep my hands warm and in my pocket while looking up into the wintry darkness, I left my Peterson Guide in the hotel room. Before heading out I stared hard at some pictures of the Cross, and nearby Alpha and Beta Centauri, in hopes that I would be able to recognize them. Sure enough, in a little, say, twenty-arc-degree swath of that greenish city night sky exposed on the street (Roque Saenz Pena Avenue) in front of my hotel, there they were, perfectly framed, unmistakable.

On the flight back I was afforded another view of them, but I had to twist my neck around really awkwardly to obscure both the reflections from cabin lights on the window and an annoyingly bright wing-tip bulb. I could still see the Milky Way, and get an only slightly muted version of the tingly awesomeness that always accompanies it.