StarDate

Odd little February is the shortest month of the year. Historians aren’t exactly sure just why that’s the case. But tracing its evolution gives us a capsule history of the evolution of the calendar. The modern western calendar is a descendant of the earliest Roman calendar. It included only 10 months, beginning with March. The months were followed by about 60 days that weren’t part of any month. That system didn’t work very well, though, so two months were added to the end of the year – January and February. Eventually, they were shifted to the start of the year. The lengths of the 10 original months were changed to leave 56 days for the newcomers. But the Romans feared even numbers, so they added a day to January to give it 29. February was the month for festivals of repentance and for honoring the dead, so it stayed an unlucky even number. But this version of the calendar contained only 355 days. So an extra month was added every other year. In those years, the last five days of February were dropped. After that, February remained unchanged until 46 B.C., when Julius Caesar introduced the basic calendar that’s in use today. He named the seventh month for himself: July. And he might have lengthened February to 29 days. If so, it was cut back to 28 by Augustus Caesar, who took the extra day for the month that bears his name: August. Script by Damond Benningfield

Powerful cold fronts move across North America at this time of year. These blankets of dry, cold air push away the clouds and haze, providing some amazingly beautiful blue skies. That color is produced by the interaction of sunlight with Earth’s atmosphere. The Sun is classified as a yellow star because its energy output peaks at yellow wavelengths. And if we could see the Sun from a distance of a few light-years, where it would appear as only a pinpoint of light, it would have a yellow hue. But from close range, the Sun is so intensely bright that we see its light as a mixture of all the colors of the rainbow. As a result, it looks white. As the Sun’s light enters Earth’s atmosphere, it’s subjected to a number of effects. Most of the time, the most important effect is Rayleigh scattering. It’s named for a British scientist who studied the effect in the late 19th century. Blue light waves are shorter than waves of red light. That makes them the right size to bounce off molecules of nitrogen and oxygen in the atmosphere. That scatters them in random directions. Since the blue wavelengths are scattered across the entire sky, the sky looks blue. Molecules in the air actually scatter a lot of violet light as well. But our eyes are more sensitive to blue wavelengths, so we see the sky as distinctly blue – the frosty color of clear winter days. Tomorrow: the oddball month of February. Script by Damond Benningfield

The constellation Gemini consists of two long lines of stars capped by two of the brighter stars in the night sky. Many cultures have seen these stars as two men. But the legend that endures is the Greek story of Castor and Pollux. The two bright stars bear their names. In the story, the twins had the same mother – Leda, the queen of Sparta. But they had different fathers. Castor was the son of the king – a mortal – while Pollux was the son of Zeus, the king of the gods. The boys were inseparable. They had many adventures together. They joined Jason and the other Argonauts in the search for the golden fleece, and saved their legendary boat during a nasty storm. But during a later battle, Castor was killed. Pollux was inconsolable. He begged Zeus to let him die so he could join Castor in the underworld. Moved by Pollux’s love for his brother, Zeus agreed to keep them together for all time. They would spend half of their time in the heavens, and the other half in the underworld – just like the stars of Gemini. The twins appear near the Moon the next couple of nights. The Moon aligns along the body of the twins tonight. Castor, the fainter twin, is to the left of the Moon at nightfall, with Pollux to the lower left. The giant planet Jupiter is passing through the constellation as well. It looks like an especially brilliant star. Tonight, it’s a little closer to the Moon than the twins are. Script by Damond Benningfield

Gene Cernan was the last American to walk on the Moon. As he prepared to leave it, he expressed optimism that his colleagues would return soon. CERNAN: As I take man’s last step from the surface for some time to come, but we believe not too long into the future… Well, it’s probably been a little longer into the future than Cernan expected, but NASA is preparing to send astronauts back to the Moon. The Artemis II mission is scheduled to launch in the coming weeks. It will carry four astronauts to the Moon. They won’t land, or even go into orbit. But it will be the first time anyone has come close to the Moon in more than half a century. The astronauts will follow a looping path to the Moon. They’ll fly behind it, coming within about 6500 miles of the surface. The Moon’s gravity will sling them back toward Earth. They’ll splash down in the Pacific Ocean. During the 10-day mission, the astronauts will check out all of the systems on the Orion spacecraft. They’ll also conduct a few experiments, and make some observations of the Moon. Artemis II has been delayed by several years. Among other problems, during the unmanned Artemis I mission, in 2022, the life support system and heat shield didn’t work as planned. Astronauts are supposed to land on the Moon during the next mission. Issues with the lander and other problems may delay that until 2028 or beyond – adding to the gap between moonwalks. Script by Damond Benningfield

The Moon is a tale of two faces. The side we see – the nearside – features giant volcanic plains and a fairly thin crust. The far side features more mountains and craters and much thicker crust. And the differences might go even deeper. The layer below the crust – the mantle – might be cooler on the farside – or was cooler billions of years ago. That difference is suggested by samples returned to Earth by a Chinese lander – the first samples from the farside. Some of the samples formed from molten rock. It cooled and solidified 2.8 billion years ago, deep inside the Moon. Details about the samples suggest the molten rock was much cooler than the same layer on the nearside – by about 200 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s probably because the far side has fewer radioactive elements, which heat the interior as they decay. Just why that’s the case isn’t clear. A smaller moon might have splatted into the lunar farside when the Moon was young. Or a giant asteroid impact might have moved things around. The pull of Earth’s gravity might have played a role as well. Whatever the cause, there’s a big difference in the lunar hemispheres – which may be more than skin deep. The gibbous Moon is passing through the constellation Taurus tonight. Aldebaran, the bull’s eye, is to the right of the Moon at nightfall. And Elnath, at the tip of one of the bull’s horns, is closer to the lower left of the Moon. Script by Damond Benningfield

In Greek mythology, Chiron was the wisest of the centaurs – creatures who were half human and half horse. He taught other centaurs about medicine, botany, and other sciences. Today, the astronomical Chiron is teaching scientists about the formation and evolution of ring systems. Chiron is one of about a thousand known centaurs – chunks of ice and rock between the orbits of Jupiter and Neptune. It’s one of the larger ones, at an average diameter of about 125 miles. Even so, it’s so far away that it’s tough to study. But it sometimes passes in front of a distant star. Such a passage allows scientists to measure its size. It also allows them to study the space around Chiron. Rings cause the light of the background star to flicker. Observing that effect from different locations, and at different times, provides a profile of the rings. A study last year reported some changes. Scientists already knew of three rings. The new study reported evidence of a fourth ring. It’s so far out that Chiron’s weak gravity might not be able to hold it. The scientists also found a wide disk of dust. The rings and disk might be debris from a small moon, or the result of an outburst from Chiron itself. Chiron is moving closer to the Sun. As it warms up, it could produce more outbursts. So the system could undergo more big changes in the years ahead – teaching us much more about the evolution of rings around the small bodies of the solar system. Script by Damond Benningfield

The realm of the giant outer planets is like a transit station for some smaller bodies. They come from beyond the orbit of Neptune, the solar system’s most remote major planet. And like passengers at a hub airport, their destinations are all over the map. These objects are called centaurs. Like the half-human, half-horses of myth, they’re hybrids – they look like both asteroids and comets. Most of them are quiet chunks of rock and ice, like asteroids. But some have haloes or tails of gas, like comets. Centaurs orbit the Sun between Jupiter and Neptune. And their orbits cross those of at least one of the giant planets. They’re small and far away, so they’re hard to find. Even so, astronomers have discovered about a thousand of them. And there could be as many as a hundred thousand that are at least a kilometer across. Centaurs come from a belt of debris beyond Neptune. They’re nudged inward by Neptune’s gravity. None of them will spend more than a few million years in the realm of the giants, though. Instead, the gravity of the planets will give them a kick. Some will be booted out of the solar system. Others will be pushed into the inner solar system. And others will slam into a planet. The biggest centaur is Chariklo. It’s about 160 miles in diameter, and it has a couple of rings. The first centaur ever seen, Chiron, also has rings. And it’s growing new rings even now. More about that tomorrow. Script by Damond Benningfield

Many of the features on the Moon are named for astronomers. So are features on Mars and other planets and moons. And hundreds of asteroids are named for astronomers as well. But you won’t find many features named for astronomers here on Earth. Quite a few streets and schools are named after them. But when it comes to major features, the list is pretty thin – especially in the United States. One of the few is Mount Langley, a 14,000-foot summit in California. It’s named for Samuel Pierpont Langley, who was a long-time director of the Allegheny Observatory. To see more features named for astronomers, though, you need to head south – to Australia, New Zealand, and even Antarctica. In Australia, for example, a river and an estuary are named for Thomas Brisbane, an early governor of the state of New South Wales. And so is the city of Brisbane, the capital of Queensland. In addition to his government duties, Brisbane was an astronomer. He set up Australia’s first major observatory. In New Zealand, several peaks in a large mountain range are named for astronomers, including Galileo and Copernicus. And an entire range is named for Johannes Kepler. In Antarctica, many features are named for James Ross, an early explorer. But Ross himself named several features for astronomers, including Cape Smyth and Mount Lubbock – down-to-earth features named for men who studied the stars. Script by Damond Benningfield

When a dying Sun-like star exhales its final breath, it’s a doozy. The star blows its outer layers of gas into space. That surrounds the star’s dying core with a colorful bubble. The bubble can last for tens of thousands of years before it fades away. One of those bubbles is on the edge of Gemini, which is well up in the east at nightfall. Known as the Medusa Nebula, the bubble is about 1500 light-years away, and it spans more than four light-years. It’s named for one of the Gorgons of Greek mythology. That’s because some of its tendrils of gas have reminded skywatchers of the snakes on Medusa’s head. Those tendrils have been expanding into space for thousands of years. They began their journey when their star could no longer produce nuclear reactions in its core. Gravity squeezed the dying core tighter, making it smaller and hotter. The radiation of the hotter core pushed away the layers of gas around the core. Today, they’re moving outward at more than 30 miles per second. Ultraviolet light from the core “energizes” the gas in the nebula, making it glow like a fluorescent bulb. Different elements glow in different colors. That tells astronomers about the original star, and about the process of its demise. The fate of the Medusa Nebula is shared by all Sun-like stars. So billions of years from now, the Sun will create its own nebula – a colorful bubble blown with its dying breath. Script by Damond Benningfield

There just aren’t enough superlatives to describe the galaxy OJ 287. It’s a quasar – an especially bright object powered by two supermassive black holes. One of them is about 150 million times as massive as the Sun. The other is 18 billion times the Sun’s mass – one of the heaviest black holes yet seen. They team up to produce outbursts that are a trillion times brighter than the Sun – brighter than all the stars in the Milky Way Galaxy combined. OJ 287 is always bright. But every few years, it flares up – the result of interactions between the black holes. Each of them is encircled by a giant disk of gas. As the gas spirals in, it gets extremely hot. That makes the disks extremely bright. The smaller black hole orbits the larger one every 12 years. The orbit is tilted. So every six years, the black hole plunges through the disk around the larger black hole. That can heat some regions to trillions of degrees, producing the flare-ups. Astronomers recently used radio telescopes to take a picture of the system. They saw a long “jet” of particles from the smaller black hole. The jet is twisted by the interactions between the black holes – confirming the profile of this amazing system. OJ 287 is in Cancer, which is low in the east at nightfall. Even though it’s billions of light-years away, OJ 287 is bright enough to see through most amateur telescopes. Script by Damond Benningfield

Saturn’s rings are among the most beautiful features in the solar system – and the most mysterious. Scientists continue to debate how and when the rings formed, and how much longer they might hang around. But the rings aren’t Saturn’s only beautiful and mysterious feature. An almost perfect hexagon of clouds wraps around the planet’s north pole. And scientists continue to debate how it formed and what keeps it going. Saturn is the second-largest planet in the solar system – nine-and-a-half times the diameter of Earth. So the hexagon is giant as well – more than twice as wide as Earth. And it’s long-lasting – it was first observed in 1981. There are several ideas about what shapes the hexagon. Perhaps the leading idea says that winds deep in the atmosphere blow at different speeds at different latitudes. As these jet streams rub against other, they create waves that ripple to the top of the clouds. Those clouds form regular patterns – the sides of the hexagon. There’s one other mystery about the hexagon: It appears only at the north pole, not the south. So scientists are still working to explain this beautiful feature at the top of a beautiful planet. Saturn poses near the Moon the next couple of evenings. It looks like a bright golden star. It’s to the upper left of the Moon tonight, and a bit farther below the Moon tomorrow night. Tomorrow: a system that defies description. Script by Damond Benningfield

Orion climbs high across the sky on winter nights. It’s in the east-southeast at nightfall, and it’s easy to pick out. Look for the constellation’s “belt” – a short line of three stars that points straight up. In ancient Greece and Rome, Orion was known as a mighty hunter. But in ancient Egypt, the figure was even mightier. It represented Osiris, the god of the underworld. In fact, he was thought to reside in the stars of the belt. The story of Osiris dates to Egypt’s Old Kingdom, at least 4500 years ago. It says that Osiris was a great king. But he was murdered and chopped apart by his brother, Set. Isis, Osiris’s wife and sister, recovered the pieces, wrapped him in bandages, and used a magic spell to resurrect him. She then gave birth to Horus, who avenged his father by killing Set. As a god, Osiris reigned over the underworld. When the Sun passed through the underworld at night, Osiris gave new life to the Sun god, Re. So he became known as the god of rebirth and resurrection. He was associated with the start of a new year, when the Nile brought lifegiving floods to the fields. When a king died, he joined Osiris in the stars. Some researchers have suggested that a shaft in the Great Pyramid of Giza aimed toward Orion’s Belt at the time it was built. Others say there’s no astronomical significance to the shaft. But just about everyone agrees that Orion’s Belt was considered the resting place of Osiris. Script by Damond Benningfield

Orion is a land of monsters. It’s packed with stars that are among the most impressive in the galaxy – they’re big, heavy, and bright. Even among all those superstars, though, Lambda Orionis stands out. It consists of two monster stars. The largest is about 35 times the mass of the Sun, and perhaps 200 thousand times brighter. Orion is home to so many major stars because it’s on the leading edge of a spiral arm – a zone where many new stars are being born. Lambda belongs to a cluster that’s one hotbed of starbirth. It contains many stars of all sizes and masses. Lambda’s main star is the brightest and heaviest in the cluster. The cluster is encircled by a ring of gas and dust – probably outlining the shockwave of a massive star that exploded as a supernova. Lambda’s radiation zaps the material in the ring, making it glow. Lambda is only a few million years old, yet its time is almost up. Because it’s so massive, it will live a very short life. Soon, it may explode as a supernova, with its core collapsing to form a black hole. On the other hand, it might be massive enough for the entire star to become a black hole, with no explosion at all – a monstrous ending for a monster star. Orion is in the east and southeast at nightfall. Bright orange Betelgeuse marks its left shoulder. Lambda is to the upper right. Despite its true brilliance, it looks fainter than many of the hunter’s other impressive stars. Script by Damond Benningfield

For a while now, astronomers have suspected that Betelgeuse has a companion. And they might have found it. If it really exists, though, it won’t be around for long. Betelgeuse is a supergiant. It’s about 15 times as massive as the Sun, hundreds of times wider than the Sun, and tens of thousands of times brighter. There’s a wobble in the star’s light that lasts about six years – possibly caused by the gravity of a smaller companion star. A team looked for the companion in 2020 and 2024. The team stacked thousands of short-exposure images together, producing a sharp view of the system. The researchers didn’t see anything in 2020 – but they hadn’t expected to. The two stars were predicted to be too close together to tell them apart. But the team did see the companion in 2024, when the stars were farther apart. If the star really exists, it would be a little bigger and heavier than the Sun. But it’s so close to Betelgeuse that it’s enveloped in the supergiant’s outer atmosphere. That’s pulling the star closer in. Eventually, it should get so close that the gravity of Betelgeuse will rip it apart. And even if that doesn’t happen, before long Betelgeuse will explode as a supernova – bad news for both stars. Betelgeuse is the bright orange shoulder of Orion the hunter. It’s a third of the way up in the east-southeast at nightfall, to the left of Orion’s Belt. More about Orion tomorrow. Script by Damond Benningfield

A research paper published a couple of years ago featured an ominous title: “The Death of Vulcan.” A team of astronomers killed off a possible planet around the star 40 Eridani. In the lore of Star Trek, the star is the home of the planet Vulcan. 40 Eridani is actually a triple star. The main star is the one that’s supposed to host Vulcan. It’s a little smaller and lighter than the Sun, and only about 40 percent as bright. It’s probably older than the Sun, so there’s been plenty of time for life to develop on any planets that orbit the star. And in 2018, astronomers reported the possible discovery of one. The planet would have been a “super-Earth” – about eight times Earth’s mass. But the discovery was tentative. And several follow-ups found little evidence to support it. One concern was that the planet appeared to orbit the star once every 42 days. But that’s about the same period as the star’s rotation. And according to the 2024 study, that’s no coincidence. The earlier study had actually detected activity on the surface of the star. That activity looked like the signal of an orbiting planet. So a possible planet Vulcan vanished in the starlight. 40 Eridani is in the constellation Eridanus, the river. The star is in the southeast at nightfall, well to the upper right of Orion’s Belt. Under dark skies, the star is visible to the eye alone. Script by Damond Benningfield

Epsilon Eridani is the third-closest star system that’s visible to the unaided eye – just 10 and a half light-years away. It was among the first stars found to be encircled by a disk of dust. And it was one of two stars targeted in the first search for radio signals from other civilizations. The star itself is a little smaller and lighter than the Sun, and only a third as bright. It’s also billions of years younger than the Sun. Younger stars generate stronger magnetic fields. So Epsilon Eridani produces bigger magnetic storms than the Sun does, plus a much stronger “wind.” In 1983, a satellite discovered that the star is surrounded by a wide disk of dust. Later observations found several asteroid belts – bands filled with big chunks of rock and ice. Over the decades, astronomers have reported several possible planets. But only one of them has stuck. The planet is similar to Jupiter, the giant of our own solar system. In 1960, the star was considered a good candidate to host another civilization. So when Frank Drake launched Project Ozma to listen for radio signals, Epsilon Eridani was one of his two targets. He didn’t hear a peep – and neither has any search since then. Epsilon Eridani is well up in the south at nightfall, far to the right of the top right corner of Orion. The star isn’t all that bright, so you’ll need a starchart to pick it out. More about Eridanus tomorrow. Script by Damond Benningfield

The stars on the rim of the galaxy are going for a ride. They’re bobbing up and down like the horses on a merry-go-round. They’re also rippling outward, away from the center of the Milky Way. The Milky Way consists of a thin disk of stars and gas that spans a hundred thousand light-years or more. For decades, we’ve known that the rim of the disk is warped like the brim of a wide hat. It’s bent upward on one edge, and downward on the opposite edge. A recent study found that stars on those edges are moving along a big wave. Astronomers looked at the locations and motions of more than 20,000 bright young stars logged by the Gaia space telescope. The stars are as much as 45,000 light-years from the galactic center. Gaia found that the stars are bobbing up and down as much as a thousand light-years above or below the plane of the galaxy. And they appear to be sliding outward at thousands of miles per hour. The wave might have been created by a close approach of a smaller galaxy hundreds of millions of years ago. Its gravity disturbed the tranquility of the Milky Way’s outer precincts – sending the stars there for a ride. Under dark skies, the Milky Way is in good view tonight. In early evening, it extends along the body of Cygnus, the swan, in the west-northwest; through M-shaped Cassiopeia, higher in the sky; then down between Orion and the twins of Gemini, in the east-southeast. Script by Damond Benningfield

Almost 11 million years ago, a large asteroid slammed into Earth, somewhere around Australia. It could have gouged a crater more than 15 miles wide, and devastated life across tens of thousands of square miles. So far, though, the only traces of it are 14 tiny glass beads. Combined, they weigh just 53 grams – as much as a slice of bread. The beads are known as tektites. They formed from melted rock and sand that was blasted into the sky. Tiny blobs were shaped into balls by their passage through the air. Tektites are found all across the planet. Most of them are associated with a few major impacts. The region where a group of related tektites is found is called a strewn field. Five confirmed fields had been identified. One of them stretches across Australia and Asia. Decades ago, scientists identified eight tektites as members of that field, which was created by an impact about three-quarters of a million years ago. But a recent analysis found otherwise. Scientists conducted extensive studies of those beads, along with six others. They found that the beads were related to each other – but not to the known strewn field. Instead, they formed a new field, which stretches almost 600 miles across Australia. The beads are all the same age. So they formed in the same impact – 11 million years ago. But no one has yet found a crater – only a tiny handful of beads from a possible cosmic impact. Script by Damond Benningfield

Farmers in the American breadbasket are used to weather troubles: floods, droughts, hail, and more. But a storm in May of 2024 was something new. It caused machinery to go haywire during the peak of planting season. That caused an estimated 500 million dollars in losses. What was different about this storm was its source: the Sun. Massive outbursts of particles and energy bombarded Earth. That caused impressive displays of the northern lights. But it also messed with GPS satellites. From the central United States, GPS positions were off by more than 200 feet. That messed with farm equipment, disrupting the planting. A recent study said that such breaks could be more common in the decades ahead. The Sun goes through an 11-year cycle of storms. Big storms can cause all kinds of problems for modern technology. A couple of recent cycles were unusually quiet. And forecasts had called for the same from the current cycle, which peaked in 2024 and ’25. But those forecasts were wrong. The current cycle has been much more active than the previous ones, with many more sunspots than expected, and many more big outbursts. The recent study said that upcoming cycles could be even busier. The solar wind has been getting stronger since 2008 – an indication that the Sun is waking up from a “sleepy” period. So farmers – and the rest of us – could see more space weather problems in the decades ahead. Script by Damond Benningfield

Earth is getting fainter. For proof, just look at the Moon – something that scientists have been doing for decades. They’ve been looking at earthshine – sunlight reflected off of Earth. We see it lighting up the nighttime portion of the Moon – the part that’s not brightly lit by the Sun. It gives that part of the Moon a ghostly appearance. Right now, most of the lunar hemisphere that faces our way is in earthshine. The Moon is a thin crescent in the early morning sky. It’s getting thinner by the day as it wanes toward “new.” From the Moon, though, Earth is getting fatter. It’ll be “full” in just a couple of days. How bright Earth looks varies a good bit, depending on the exact distance, the amount of ice and cloud cover, and other factors. Clouds and ice are bright; land and oceans are dark. So as Earth turns on its axis, and different features rotate into view, earthshine goes up and down like a dining room light on a rheostat. Earthshine varies over longer periods as well, as a result of Earth’s changing climate. If cloud and ice coverage goes down, so does Earth’s overall brightness. And several studies have reported that that’s just what’s happening. Earthshine isn’t as bright as it was decades ago. The difference is small but clear – providing slightly darker nights on the Moon. Look for the Moon low in the sky before dawn tomorrow. The bright star Antares, the heart of the scorpion, is close by. Script by Damond Benningfield