In the summer of 2022, I started a podcast called A Backyard Astronomer's Diary as a creative outlet. The podcast ran for ten episodes before I ended production. The reasons I ended it were twofold: first, it was taking me two months to produce an episode—too slow to effectively build an audience. Second, I wasn't satisfied with how my scripted approach worked in audio format. I decided the scripts conveyed their content better in written format.
The first episode, presented as a written piece, is shared below. I've included the original illustrations that were available on the podcast website. I'll be editing and posting excerpts from additional episodes in coming weeks. Enjoy!
-Jim
A Backyard Astronomer's Diary, Episode One: An Introduction and Observing the Seedling
Greetings from Montgomery, Alabama, USA. This is A Backyard Astronomer's Diary with Jim Harstad. In this episode: An Introduction and Observing The Seedling.
I'm an amateur astronomer. I'm not a professional scientist, but I am a science enthusiast. I enjoy going out to the backyard in the evening with my small telescope to see what's up in the night sky. I got interested in astronomy as a kid, learning the night sky and exploring with a telescope from my suburban backyard. It's something I still enjoy, and that's what this podcast is all about—backyard astronomy that we can all do. Bring your binoculars or your small telescope and join me. This is about making a personal connection to the night sky with modest equipment. You don't need to spend a lot of money—maybe a little bit, but not a lot.
When I walk outside at night, I always look up. It's a habit from when I first became interested in astronomy. Is it cloudy? Depending on where I am, I might need to orient myself. Which way is north? Where did the sun just set? What part of the sky can I see around these trees and this building? Then, I start looking for my old friends—the moon, the familiar planets, and familiar star patterns—getting my bearings.
One of the first things I always look for is the moon. What phase is it in? Is it a full moon or nearly full? Or is it a narrow crescent? If it's not full, which side is more illuminated—the right side or the left? Afterward, I might look for the stars. Can I see the Big Dipper? Can I see Orion's belt? Are there any stars that seem much, much brighter than the rest? Could I be looking at a planet—maybe Venus or Jupiter? I draw on what I've learned about the constellations to figure out what I'm seeing. If I can't figure it out, I'll look it up.
When I got my first telescope as a teenager, all I knew was how to find the moon and the Big Dipper. I had just learned how to find Venus. In fact, it was Venus that sparked my interest in getting my first telescope. Somehow, this bright evening planet caught my attention one summer, and I followed it through the sky night after night. I watched it move higher in the sky and get brighter with each passing evening. Then it started moving lower in the sky at dusk, but it still got brighter. I wanted to see it as a crescent, like I'd seen in books. When my parents gifted me a telescope, the moon and Venus were the first things I looked at. From that starting point, I began to learn the night sky.
When I first turned my telescope on the moon, I was amazed at the detail revealed, even at low power. I saw craters—so clear! The rims of the craters cast shadows. And I saw mountains, lots of mountains, also casting shadows. There were large, smooth areas that looked darker than the mountains—the lunar maria, or seas, though they hold no water.
When I aimed my telescope at Venus, low in the sky just after sunset, it showed me a thin crescent. I went on to look at more planets. As I learned more about finding things in the night sky, I was able to check off all the naked-eye planets: Jupiter and its four biggest moons, clearly visible in my small scope; Saturn and its brilliant rings; Mars, which offers a rare close-up every two years; and Mercury, a challenge that never strays far from the horizon.
As weeks and months went by, I became more skilled at finding objects with my telescope. I used the familiar asterism we call the Big Dipper to help orient myself in the sky, and I learned some of the more notable constellations. Learning these landmarks in the sky allowed me to find interesting objects embedded within them or positioned nearby. I just needed to hop from a familiar star formation to the next to find the dim object I was looking for. A universe of star clusters, nebulae, and galaxies opened up for me.
A great way I found to learn the sky is by making pencil sketches of my observations. Now, I'm not a great artist by any means, but the very act of drawing a simple picture with a pencil and notepad helps me focus on my observations. It's a great way to spend some time with the object I'm looking at. I now have a collection of rough drawings, which I made sure to annotate with the date of the observation and a few details about what I was looking at.
My first telescope served me well in my youth, but eventually, I set the hobby aside for a few years. As an adult, I rediscovered my old passion for astronomy, and my wife gifted me a new and better telescope to get me back into the hobby. I saw the night sky with new eyes and began re-learning and adding to my knowledge of the night sky. This telescope had a larger aperture, allowing it to gather more light and see dimmer objects. I learned how important equipment is to doing astronomy—yet even an inexpensive telescope can get you a long way.
So, what's leading me to do a podcast? There are a lot of good astronomy podcasts out there, and I enjoy them as much as anybody—Space Nuts is my favorite if you're wondering. But I haven't found much for the hobby of backyard astronomy. There are awesome blogs and YouTube videos for the amateur astronomer, but I want to add something in audio form so people can listen and hopefully enjoy some backyard astronomy while driving to work or cooking dinner.
So, here's the idea: periodically, I'll gather up the notes and sketches from a night of observing, and I'll construct a podcast out of it. One might ask, "How are you going to do an audio podcast about a completely visual activity?" Well, that'll be a challenge. To make this work, I'll have to provide some visual materials on my website that I've created for this purpose. The website will provide you with what you need to replicate my observations: a star map or two to guide you to what we're looking at, and occasionally a photograph of the object to compare with what you saw. Or, you can always choose simply to listen and not use the website at all.
My intended audience is, well, anyone who finds the podcast interesting, but especially people who want to get a small telescope or maybe have one gathering dust in their attic and want to get some use out of it. This podcast is not about astrophotography or expensive hardware, computerized tracking systems, or the latest gadget. It's about using binoculars or a basic manually operated telescope in your backyard, even if your backyard suffers from some city lights. It's about keeping it simple and creating a personal connection to the night sky. If you don't own a telescope or binoculars, you may want to get one if you wish to follow along with my observations—we'll talk more about equipment in future episodes, but I assure you, I'm NOT about spending a lot of money.
In this episode, I used my 8-inch Dobsonian telescope at 37.5x magnification to observe an asterism called The Seedling near the star Enif in the constellation Pegasus. For evening observers in the northern middle latitudes, Pegasus is best seen in the fall months, overhead toward the south.
Your telescope may rotate or invert the image from what you see in the sky, so take some time to learn the characteristics of your telescope. You may have to rotate the chart, or in the case of some telescopes, think in terms of the star chart's mirror image to make it match the image seen through your telescope. Practice by observing the moon and comparing its orientation in the sky with its apparent orientation in your telescope.
If you are using the star charts I provide on my website to help you replicate my observations, keep in mind that they are drawn as the objects are seen in the sky, with the horizon toward the bottom. I will label the charts with the directions north, south, east, and west as seen with the star chart held overhead. The chart should be held so those directions match the cardinal directions on Earth.
Images in your telescope will always drift toward the west because of the rotation of the Earth, so you can use that to establish which direction is west in your telescope image.
Now, let's get on with our observing. Let's go outside.
I’m in the backyard, looking at a washed-out sky. High humidity is creating haze in the atmosphere, and a waning gibbous moon, along with the background of city lights, is degrading the observing conditions, but we're going to do some observing anyway. I have a small telescope set up on the north end of the lawn, looking south through a gap in the trees. This position helps me avoid light from a nearby streetlight by putting me in the shadow of the house.
Tonight, we'll be looking at an asterism, sometimes referred to as The Seedling, that requires a small telescope or binoculars to see. This small grouping of stars is located in the constellation Pegasus. So to find The Seedling, we'll first have to find the constellation Pegasus.
We'll begin without a telescope, simply looking up at the night sky and orienting ourselves. You can use the star charts on my website to help you follow along if you like. When looking for Pegasus on a fall evening, the Great Square will be visible even in a moderately light-polluted sky. It lies south of the prominent polar constellation Cassiopeia and east of the equally prominent Summer Triangle. Use the star charts to find your way around.
The Great Square isn't quite square—it's trapezoidal, and less distinct in urban or suburban areas than in a good, dark sky. Nevertheless, I found it, and I've located the square's brightest star. It's at the top of the Great Square tonight, but the square's orientation changes as the Earth rotates during the evening. This star is Enif, the brightest star in Pegasus, located in the nose of the celestial horse. If you can't see Enif because of light pollution, try using binoculars to find it.
This tiny, three-star asterism looks to me like a tiny seedling, with the point of the triangle as the root, and stars near the open end of the v as leaves of the sprouting plant. These stars are approximately 7th magnitude, meaning they are not visible to the naked eye, so you'll need binoculars or a small telescope to see them. This is why you'll need to get Enif in the view first, and then pan slowly to find The Seedling.
If you don't find it right away, try moving your telescope left to right, back and forth. It should appear in the eyepiece with a modest magnification of 25x or so, although tonight, I'm using 37.5x. Have you found it? If not, keep trying. I'll wait for you.
Take a good look at this tiny grouping of stars. The Seedling is just five faint stars, but it’s one of those "ah-ha!" moments that you'll want to share with your fellow backyard astronomers. If you're using my star charts on the website, compare what you see with my sketches.
Even though this isn't a striking object in itself, there's something satisfying about finding it. The Seedling is an object that needs a little effort to find. The exercise of star-hopping between Enif and The Seedling makes it a rewarding experience. The Seedling’s charm comes from its simplicity and the fact that it requires you to hone your skills as a backyard astronomer.
Before we wrap up this episode, I'd like to offer some advice for anyone who might be feeling a little frustrated with their early attempts at backyard astronomy. Patience is key. The night sky is vast, and learning to navigate it takes time. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed, especially when the object you’re looking for seems elusive. But remember, every successful observation starts with a bit of searching. With each outing, you’ll become more familiar with the stars and the way your telescope works.
One final tip: Keep a log of your observations. This could be as simple as jotting down the date, time, and object you observed in a notebook. If you’re artistically inclined, sketch what you see. This habit helps you track your progress and makes the experience more rewarding. Over time, you’ll build up a personal record of your journey through the cosmos, and you’ll be able to look back on it with pride.
That brings us to the end of this episode of A Backyard Astronomer’s Diary. I hope you’ve enjoyed our time together under the stars and that you’re feeling inspired to get out there and do some stargazing of your own. If you have any questions, comments, or suggestions for future episodes, please reach out to me on social media. I’d love to hear about your experiences.
You have been listening to A Backyard Astronomer's Diary with Jim Harstad. Follow me on Instagram at nightsky.jimharstad. Music for this podcast is provided by Jason Shaw at Audionautix.com. Thank you for listening. Until next time, clear skies and happy stargazing!