To celebrate 30 years since Supernova 1987A was spotted, a new composite image shows the most recent images of the object, and contains X-rays from NASA's Chandra X-ray Observatory (blue), visible light data from NASA's Hubble Space Telescope (green), and submillimeter wavelength data from the international Atacama Large Millimeter/submillimeter Array (ALMA) telescope in Chile (red).
30 years ago today, a supernova explosion was spotted in the southern hemisphere skies. The exploding star was located in the Large Magellanic Cloud — a satellite galaxy of the Milky Way – and Supernova 1987A was the brightest and nearest supernova explosion for modern astronomers to observe. This has provided an amazing opportunity to study the death of a star.
Telescopes around the world and in space have been keeping an eye on this event, and the latest images show the blast wave from the original explosion is still expanding, and it has plowed into a ring expelled by the pre-supernova star. The latest images and data reveal the blast is now moving past the ring.
Got a 3-D printer? You can print out your own version of SN1987A! Find the plans here.
Two different versions of 3-D printed models of SN1987A. Credit: Salvatore Orlando (INAF-Osservatorio Astronomico di Palermo) & NASA/CXC/SAO/A.Jubett et al.
Below is the latest image of this supernova, as seen by the Hubble Space Telescope. You can see it in the center of the image among a backdrop of stars, and the supernova is surrounded by gas clouds.
This new image of the supernova remnant SN 1987A was taken by the NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope in January 2017 using its Wide Field Camera 3 (WFC3). Credit: NASA, ESA, and R. Kirshner (Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics and Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation) and P. Challis (Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics)
Hubble launched in 1990, just three years after the supernova was detected, so Hubble has a long history of observations. In addition, the Chandra X-ray telescope – launched in 1999 – has been keeping an eye on the explosion too.
Here are a few animations and images of SN1987A over the years:
This scientific visualization, using data from a computer simulation, shows Supernova 1987A, as the luminous ring of material we see today. Credits: NASA, ESA, and F. Summers and G. Bacon (STScI); Simulation Credit: S. Orlando (INAF-Osservatorio Astronomico di Palermo)This montage shows the evolution of the supernova SN 1987A between 1994 and 2016, as seen by the NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope. Credit: NASA, ESA, and R. Kirshner (Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics and Gordon and Betty Moore Foundation) and P. Challis (Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics)
Astronomers estimate that the ring material was was ejected about 20,000 years before the actual explosion took place. Then, the initial blast of light from the supernova illuminated the rings. They slowly faded over the first decade after the explosion, until the shock wave of the supernova slammed into the inner ring in 2001, heating the gas to searing temperatures and generating strong X-ray emission.
The observations by Hubble, Chandra and telescopes around the world has shed light on how supernovae can affect the dynamics and chemistry of their surrounding environment, and continue to shape galactic evolution.
Artistic impression of a star going supernova, casting its chemically enriched contents into the universe. Credit: NASA/Swift/Skyworks Digital/Dana Berry
Supernovae are extremely energetic and dynamic events in the universe. The brightest one we’ve ever observed was discovered in 2015 and was as bright as 570 billion Suns. Their luminosity signifies their significance in the cosmos. They produce the heavy elements that make up people and planets, and their shockwaves trigger the formation of the next generation of stars.
There are about 3 supernovae every 100 hundred years in the Milky Way galaxy. Throughout human history, only a handful of supernovae have been observed. The earliest recorded supernova was observed by Chinese astronomers in 185 AD. The most famous supernova is probably SN 1054 (historic supernovae are named for the year they were observed) which created the Crab Nebula. Now, thanks to all of our telescopes and observatories, observing supernovae is fairly routine.
The supernova that produced the Crab Nebula was detected by naked-eye observers around the world in 1054 A.D. This composite image uses data from NASA’s Great Observatories, Chandra, Hubble, and Spitzer.
But one thing astronomers have never observed is the very early stages of a supernova. That changed in 2013 when, by chance, the automated Intermediate Palomar Transient Factory (IPTF) caught sight of a supernova only 3 hours old.
Spotting a supernovae in its first few hours is extremely important, because we can quickly point other ‘scopes at it and gather data about the SN’s progenitor star. In this case, according to a paper published at Nature Physics, follow-up observations revealed a surprise: SN 2013fs was surrounded by circumstellar material (CSM) that it ejected in the year prior to the supernova event. The CSM was ejected at a high rate of approximately 10 -³ solar masses per year. According to the paper, this kind of instability might be common among supernovae.
SN 2013fs was a red super-giant. Astronomers didn’t think that those types of stars ejected material prior to going supernova. But follow up observations with other telescopes showed the supernova explosion moving through a cloud of material previously ejected by a star. What this means for our understanding of supernovae isn’t clear yet, but it’s probably a game changer.
Catching the 3-hour-old SN 2013fs was an extremely lucky event. The IPTF is a fully-automated wide-field survey of the sky. It’s a system of 11 CCD’s installed on a telescope at the Palomar Observatory in California. It takes 60 second exposures at frequencies from 5 days apart to 90 seconds apart. This is what allowed it to capture SN 2013fs in its early stages.
The 48 inch telescope at the Palomar Observatory. The IPTF is installed on this telescope. Image: IPTF/Palomar Observatory
Our understanding of supernovae is a mixture of theory and observed data. We know a lot about how they collapse, why they collapse, and what types of supernovae there are. But this is our first data point of a SN in its early hours.
SN 2013fs is 160 million light years away in a spiral-arm galaxy called NGC7610. It’s a type II supernova, meaning that it’s at least 8 times as massive as our Sun, but not more than 50 times as massive. Type II supernovae are mostly observed in the spiral arms of galaxies.
A supernova is the end state of some of the stars in the universe. But not all stars. Only massive stars can become supernova. Our own Sun is much too small.
Stars are like dynamic balancing acts between two forces: fusion and gravity.
As hydrogen is fused into helium in the center of a star, it causes enormous outward pressure in the form of photons. That is what lights and warms our planet. But stars are, of course, enormously massive. And all that mass is subject to gravity, which pulls the star’s mass inward. So the fusion and the gravity more or less balance each other out. This is called stellar equilibrium, which is the state our Sun is in, and will be in for several billion more years.
But stars don’t last forever, or rather, their hydrogen doesn’t. And once the hydrogen runs out, the star begins to change. In the case of a massive star, it begins to fuse heavier and heavier elements, until it fuses iron and nickel in its core. The fusion of iron and nickel is a natural fusion limit in a star, and once it reaches the iron and nickel fusion stage, fusion stops. We now have a star with an inert core of iron and nickel.
Now that fusion has stopped, stellar equilibrium is broken, and the enormous gravitational pressure of the star’s mass causes a collapse. This rapid collapse causes the core to heat again, which halts the collapse and causes a massive outwards shockwave. The shockwave hits the outer stellar material and blasts it out into space. Voila, a supernova.
The extremely high temperatures of the shockwave have one more important effect. It heats the stellar material outside the core, though very briefly, which allows the fusion of elements heavier than iron. This explains why the extremely heavy elements like uranium are much rarer than lighter elements. Only large enough stars that go supernova can forge the heaviest elements.
In a nutshell, that is a type II supernova, the same type found in 2013 when it was only 3 hours old. How the discovery of the CSM ejected by SN 2013fs will grow our understanding of supernovae is not fully understood.
Supernovae are fairly well-understood events, but their are still many questions surrounding them. Whether these new observations of the very earliest stages of a supernovae will answer some of our questions, or just create more unanswered questions, remains to be seen.
The Cherenkov Telescope Array prototype, located at the Serra La Nave observing stationon Mount Etna, Sicily. Credit: cta-observatory.org
In 2013, the Cherenkov Telescope Array (CTA) was established with the intention of building the world’s largest and most sensitive high-energy gamma ray observatory. Consisting of over 1350 scientists from 210 research institutes in 32 countries, this observatory will use 100 telescopes across the northern and southern hemispheres to explore the high-energy Universe.
Key to their efforts is a prototype dual-mirror Schwarzschild-Couder telescope, known as the Astrofisica con Specchi a Tecnologia Replicante Italiana (ASTRI). Since it was first created in 2014, this prototype has been undergoing tests at the Serra La Nave Observing Station on Mount Etna, Sicily. And as of October of 2016, it passed its most important test to date, demonstrating a constant point-spread function across its full field of view.
The ASTRI telescope is essentially a revolutionary kind of Imaging Atmospheric Cherenkov Telescope (IACT). These ground-based telescopes are used by astronomers to detect cosmic high-energy gamma rays. These rays are produced by the most energetic objects in the universe (i.e. pulsars, supernovae, regions around black holes), and are only detectable because of the Cherenkov Effect, which they undergo once they pass into our atmosphere.
A IACT telescope at the Whipple Observatory, Mount Hopkins, Arizona. Credit: magic.mpp.mpg.de
This effect occurs when particles of light achieve speeds greater than the phase velocity of light in their particular medium. In this case, the effect is produced when light particles pass from the vacuum of space into our atmosphere, temporarily exceeding the speed of light in air and producing a glow in the blue to UV range. In the case of very-high-energy gamma rays, indirect observations of this Cherenkov radiation is the only way to detect them.
Typically, Cherenkov telescopes use a mirror to collect light and focus it on a camera. The ASTRI telescope is something quite different, in that it is based on the Schwarzschild-Couder model. As Giovanni Pareschi, an astronomer at the INAF-Brera Astronomical Observatory and the principal investigator of the ASTRI project, told Universe Today via email:
“The ASTRI telescope for the first time is based on a two mirror imaging configuration (while in general Cherenkov telescopes work with in single mirror configuration, i.e. just a big primary mirror with the camera put in the Newtonian focus and a f-number close to 1). ASTRI is a prototype of the telescopes of the Small Size Telescope sub-array of the CTA Observatory. The sub-array is devoted to detect the gamma rays with the highest energy (up to 100 Tev). In order to properly work, the sub-array has to be based on a large number of telescopes (70 units) with a distance from each other of a 250 m distributed and with a large field (10 deg x 10 deg) of view with a constant angular resolution of a few arc minutes across the field of view.
This idea for such a telescope was first proposed in 1905 by German astronomer Karl Schwarzschild, but remained dormant for almost a century since it was deemed too difficult and too expensive to construct. It was not until 2007 that it was considered as a viable means for creating a new type of IACT. And in 2014, the INAF-Brera Astronomical Observatory commissioned the first of its kind to be built.
Polaris, the North Star, as observed by ASTRI with different offsets from the optical axis of the telescope. Credits: Enrico Giro/Rodolfo Canestrari/Salvo Scuderi/Giorgia Sironi/INAF
“[W]e have for the first time adopted a two reflection design based on the Schwarzschild-Couder configuration never realized before (also for telescopes operating in the visible band),” added Pareschi. “This configuration allows us to optimize the angular resolution across the field of view and to use focal plane cameras of small dimensions (thanks to this property, we could use new solid-state technology based Silicon photomultiplier sensors instead of the “old” classical photomultiplier tubes used so far in Cherenkov astronomy).”
These advantages, and the advances they allow for, will make ASTRI telescope approximately ten times more sensitive than current instruments. And with this latest test – which demonstrating a constant point-spread function of a few arc minutes over a large field of view of 10 degrees – the team behind it now has proof that it will work. As Pareschi explained:
“The test demonstrated for the first time that a telescope based on the Schwarzschild-Couder configuration correctly works and that a two-mirror configuration can be adopted for making Cherenkov telescopes for gamma ray astronomy. In addition, the ASTRI prototype has been completely characterized and validated from the opto-mechanical point of view, demonstrating that we can now proceed with the construction of the Small-Sized Telescopes (SSTs) of the array based on the ASTRI design.”
With this important test complete, the INAF-Brera team hopes to spend the next few months prepping the telescope. This will include mounting the Cherenkov camera onto the prototype and testing its gamma-ray performance. Then they will start to produce the first set of ASTRI telescopes to create a mini-array, which will serve as a precursor to the planned CTA sub-array that is scheduled to be built in Chile.
Artist’s impression of a gamma-ray burst. Credit: ESO/A. Roquette
Once the camera is tested and mounted, the ASTRI team will conduct their first observations of gamma-rays at very high energies. These observations will allow scientists to determine the direction of gamma-ray photons that are the result of celestial sources, such as neutron stars, pulsars, supernovae, and black holes, tracing them back to their respective sources.
And with the planned construction of 100 SSTs to be spread out over the northern and southern hemispheres, the CTA array will outnumber all other telescopes in the world. The wide coverage and large number of these telescopes, spread over a wide area, will improve astronomers chances of detecting very high-energy gamma rays as they pass into our atmosphere.
Eta Carinae, one of the most massive stars known. Credit: NASA
The Crab Nebula; at its core is a long dead star… Image credit: NASA, ESA, J. Hester and A. Loll (Arizona State University)
Our sky is blanketed in a sea of stellar ghosts; all potential phantoms that have been dead for millions of years and yet we don’t know it yet. That is what we will be discussing today. What happens to the largest of our stars, and how that influences the very makeup of the universe we reside in.
We begin this journey by observing the Crab Nebula. Its beautiful colors extend outward into the dark void; a celestial tomb containing a violent event that occurred a millennia ago. You reach out and with the flick of your wrist, begin rewinding time and watch this beautiful nebulae begin to shrink. As the clock winds backwards, the colors of the nebula begin to change, and you notice that they are shrinking to a single point. As the calendar approaches July 5, 1054, the gaseous cloud brightens and settles onto a single point in the sky that is as bright as the full moon and is visible during the day. The brightness fades and eventually there lay a pinpoint of light; a star that we don’t see today. This star has died, however at this moment in time we wouldn’t have known that. To an observer before this date, this star appeared eternal, as all the other stars did. Yet, as we know from our privileged vantage point, this star is about to go supernova and birth one of the most spectacular nebulae that we observe today.
Stellar ghosts is an apt way of describing many of the massive stars we see scattered throughout the universe. What many don’t realize is that when we look out deep into the universe, we are not only looking across vast distances, but we are peering back into time. One of the fundamental properties of the universe that we know quite well is that light travels at a finite speed: approximately 300,000,000 m/s (roughly 671,000,000 mph). This speed has been determined through many rigorous tests and physical proofs. In fact, understanding this fundamental constant is a key to much of what we know about the universe, especially in respect to both General Relativity and Quantum Mechanics. Despite this, knowing the speed of light is key to understanding what I mean by stellar ghosts. You see, information moves at the speed of light. We use the light from the stars to observe them and from this understand how they operate.
A decent example of this time lag is our own sun. Our sun is roughly 8 light-minutes away. Meaning that the light we see from our star takes 8 minutes to make the journey from its surface to our eyes on earth. If our sun were to suddenly disappear right now, we wouldn’t know about it for 8 minutes; this doesn’t just include the light we see, but even its gravitational influence that is exerted on us. So if the sun vanished right now, we would continue in our orbital path about our now nonexistent star for 8 more minutes before the gravitational information reached us informing us that we are no longer gravitationally bound to it. This establishes our cosmic speed limit for how fast we can receive information, which means that everything we observe deep into the universe comes to us as it was an ‘x’ amount of years ago, where ‘x’ is its light distance from us. This means we observe a star that is 10 lightyears away from us as it was 10 years ago. If that star died right now, we wouldn’t know about it for another 10 years. Thus, we can define it as a “stellar ghost”; a star that is dead from its perspective at its location, but still alive and well at ours.
As covered in a previous article of mine (Stars: A Day in the Life), the evolution of a star is complex and highly dynamic. Many factors play an important role in everything from determining if the star will even form in the first place, to the size and thus the lifetime of said star. In the previous article mentioned above, I cover the basics of stellar formation and the life of what we call main sequence stars, or rather stars that are very similar to our own sun. Whereas the formation process and life of a main sequence star and the stars we will be discussing are fairly similar, there are important differences in the way the stars we will be investigating die. Main sequence star deaths are interesting, but they hardly compare to the spacetime-bending ways that these larger stars terminate.
As mentioned above, when we were observing the long gone star that lay at the center of the Crab Nebula, there was a point in which this object glowed as bright as the full moon and could be seen during the day. What could cause something to become so bright that it would be comparable to our nearest celestial neighbor? Considering the Crab Nebula is 6,523 lightyears away, that meant that something that is roughly 153 billion times farther away than our moon was shining as bright as the moon. This was because the star went supernova when it died, which is the fate of stars that are much larger than our sun. Stars larger than our sun will end up in two very extreme states upon its death: neutron stars and black holes. Both are worthy topics that could span weeks in an astrophysics course, but for us today, we will simply go over how these gravitational monsters form and what that means for us.
Inward force of gravity versus the outward pressure of fusion within a star (hydrostatic equilibrium) Credit: NASA
A star’s life is a story of near runaway fusion contained by the grip of its own gravitational presence. We call this hydrostatic equilibrium, in which the outward pressure from the fusing elements in the core of a star equals that of the inward gravitational pressure being applied due to the star’s mass. In the core of all stars, hydrogen is being fused into helium (at first). This hydrogen came from the nebula that the star was born from, that coalesced and collapsed, giving the star its first chance at life. Throughout the lifetime of the star, the hydrogen will be used up, and more and more helium “ash” will condense down in the center of the star. Eventually, the star will run out of hydrogen, and the fusion will briefly stop. This lack of outward pressure due to no fusion taking place temporarily allows gravity to win and it crushes the star downwards. As the star shrinks, the density, and thus the temperature in the core of the star increases. Eventually, it reaches a certain temperature and the helium ash begins to fuse. This is how all stars proceed throughout the main portion of its life and into the first stages of its death. However, this is where sun-sized stars and the massive stars we are discussing part ways.
The core and subsequent layers of a dying star. Each layer has been left over from millions of years of fusing each subsequent element into the next one. This is a snapshot of a massive star about to erupt. Credit: Wikimedia
A star that is roughly near the size of our own sun will go through this process until it reaches carbon. Stars that are this size simply aren’t big enough to fuse carbon. Thus, when all the helium has been fused into oxygen and carbon (via two processes that are too complex to cover here), the star cannot “crush” the oxygen and carbon enough to start fusion, gravity wins and the star dies. But stars that have sufficiently more mass than our sun (about 7x the mass) can continue on past these elements and keep shining. They have enough mass to continue this “crush and fuse” process that is the dynamic interactions at the hearts of these celestial furnaces.
These larger stars will continue their fusion process past carbon and oxygen, past silicon, all the way until they reach iron. Iron is the death note sung by these blazing behemoths, as when iron begins to fill their now dying core, the star is in its death throws. But these massive structures of energy do not go quietly into the night. They go out in the most spectacular of ways. When the last of the non-iron elements fuse in their cores, the star begins its decent into oblivion. The star comes crashing in upon itself as it has no way to stave off gravity’s relentless grip, crushing the subsequent layers of left over elements from its lifetime. This inward free-fall is met at a certain size with an impossible force to breach; a neutron degeneracy pressure that forces the star to rebound outwards. This massive amount of gravitational and kinetic energy races back out with a fury that illuminates the universe, outshining entire galaxies in an instant. This fury is the life-blood of the cosmos; the drum beats in the symphony galactic, as this intense energy allows for the fusion of elements heavier than iron, all the way to uranium. These new elements are blasted outwards by this amazing force, riding the waves of energy that casts them deep into the cosmos, seeding the universe with all the elements that we know of.
Artistic impression of a star going supernova, casting its chemically enriched contents into the universe. These new elements are blasted outwards by this amazing force, riding the waves of energy that casts them deep into the cosmos, seeding the universe with all the elements that we know of. Credit: NASA/Swift/Skyworks Digital/Dana Berryto
But what is left? What is there after this spectacular event? That all depends again on the mass of the star. As mentioned earlier, the two forms that a dead massive star takes are either a Neutron Star or a Black Hole. For a Neutron Star, the formation is quite complex. Essentially, the events that I described occurs, except after the supernovae all that is left is a ball of degenerate neutrons. Degenerate is simply a term we apply to a form that matter takes on when it is compressed to the limits allowed by physics. Something that is degenerate is intensely dense, and this holds very true for a neutron star. A number you may have heard tossed around is that a teaspoon of neutron star material would weigh roughly 10 million tons, and have an escape velocity (the speed needed to get away from its gravitational pull) at about .4c, or 40% the speed of light. Sometimes the neutron star is left spinning at incredible velocities, and we label these as pulsars; the name derived from how we detect them.
A pulsar with its magnetic field lines illustrated. The beams emitting from the poles are what washes over our detectors as the dead star spins.
These types of stars generate a LOT of radiation. Neutron stars have an enormous magnetic field. This field accelerates electrons in their stellar atmospheres to incredible velocities. These electrons follow the magnetic field lines of the neutron star to its poles, where they can release radio waves, X-Rays, and gamma rays (depending on what type of neutron star it is). Since this energy is being concentrated to the poles, it creates a sort of lighthouse effect with high energy beams acting like the beams of light out of a lighthouse. As the star rotates, these beams sweep around many times per second. If the Earth, and thus our observation equipment, happens to be oriented favorably with this pulsar, we will register these “pulses” of energy as the stars’ beams wash over us. For all the pulsars we know about, we are much too far away for these beams of energy to hurt us. But if we were close to one of these dead stars, this radiation washing over our planet continuously would spell certain extinction for life as we know it.
What of the other form that a dead star takes; a black hole? How does this occur? If degenerate material is as far as we can crush matter, how does a black hole appear? Simply put, black holes are the result of an unimaginably large star and thus a truly massive amount of matter that is able to “break” this neutron degeneracy pressure upon collapse. The star essentially falls inward with such force that it breaches this seemingly physical limit, turning in upon itself and wrapping up spacetime into a point of infinite density; a singularity. This amazing event occurs when a star has roughly 18x the amount of mass that our sun has, and when it dies, it is truly the epitome of physics gone to the extreme. This “extra bit of mass” is what allows it to collapse this ball of degenerate neutrons and fall towards infinity. It is both terrifying and beautiful to think about; a point in spacetime that is not entirely understood by our physics, and yet something that we know exists. The truly remarkable thing about black holes is that it is like the universe working against us. The information we need to fully understand the processes within a black hole are locked behind a veil that we call the event horizon. This is the point of no return for a black hole, for which anything beyond this point in spacetime has no future paths that lead out of it. Nothing escapes at this distance from the collapsed star at its core, not even light, and thus no information ever leaves this boundary (at least not in a form we can use). The dark heart of this truly astounding object leaves a lot to be desired, and tempts us to cross into its realm in order to try and know the unknowable; to grasp the fruit from the tree of knowledge.
A black hole is the final form a massive star collapses to. The light (and spacetime itself) is warped around the black hole’s event horizon due to extreme gravitational effects. This is as accurate as we can be to visualizing an actual black hole as it was generated with a code that implemented General Relativity accurately. Credit and Copyright: Paramount Pictures/Warner Bros. From “Interstellar” the film. Mathematical model used to create the image developed by Dr. Kip Thorne
Now it must be said, there is much in the way of research with black holes to this day. Physicists such as Professor Stephen Hawking, among others, have been working tirelessly on the theoretical physics behind how a black hole operates, attempting to solve the paradoxes that frequently appear when we try to utilize the best of our physics against them. There are many articles and papers on such research and their subsequent findings, so I will not dive into their intricacies for both wishing to preserve simplicity in understanding, and to also not take away from the amazing minds that are working these issues. Many suggest that the singularity is a mathematical curiosity that does not completely represent what physically happens. That the matter inside an event horizon can take on new and exotic forms. It is also worth noting that in General Relativity, anything with mass can collapse to a black hole, but we generally hold to a range of masses as creating a black hole with anything less than is in that mass range is beyond our understanding of how that could happen. But as someone who studies physics, I would be remiss to not mention that as of now, we are at an interesting cross section of ideas that deal very intimately with what is actually going on within these specters of gravity.
All of this brings me back to a point that needs to be made. A fact that needs to be recognized. As I described the deaths of these massive stars, I touched on something that occurs. As the star is being ripped apart from its own energy and its contents being blown outwards into the universe, something called nucleosynthesis is occurring. This is the fusion of elements to create new elements. From hydrogen up to uranium. These new elements are being blasted outwards an incredible speeds, and thus all of these elements will eventually find their way into molecular clouds. Molecular clouds (Dark Nebulae) are the stellar nurseries of the cosmos. This is where stars begin. And from star formation, we get planetary formation.
Planets coalescing out of the remaining molecular cloud the star formed out of. Within this accretion disk lay the fundamental elements necessary for planet formation and potential life. Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/T. Pyle (SSC) – February, 2005
As a star forms, a cloud of debris that is made up of the molecular cloud that birthed said star begins to spin around it. This cloud, as we now know, contains all those elements that were cooked up in our supernovae. The carbon, the oxygen, the silicates, the silver, the gold; all present in this cloud. This accretion disk about this new star is where planets form, coalescing out of this enriched environment. Balls of rock and ice colliding, accreting, being torn apart and then reformed as gravity works its diligent hands to mold these new worlds into islands of possibility. These planets are formed from those very same elements that were synthesized in that cataclysmic eruption. These new worlds contain the blueprints for life as we know it.
Upon one of these worlds, a certain mixture of hydrogen and oxygen occurs. Within this mixture, certain carbon atoms form up to create replicating chains that follow a simple pattern. Perhaps after billions of years, these same elements that were thrust into the universe by that dying star finds itself giving life to something that can look up and appreciate the majesty that is the cosmos. Perhaps that something has the intelligence to realize that the carbon atom within it is the very same carbon atom that was created in a dying star, and that a supernovae occurred that allowed that carbon atom to find its way into the right part of the universe at the right time. The energy that was the last dying breath of a long dead star was the same energy that allowed life to take its first breath and gaze upon the stars. These stellar ghosts are our ancestors. They are gone in form, but yet remain within our chemical memory. They exist within us. We are supernova. We are star dust. We are descended from stellar ghosts…
We are awash in the light from long dead stars, each contributing essential ingredients to the universe that are necessary for life. Image Credit: Hubble
This artist's drawing shows a stellar black hole as it pulls matter from a blue star beside it. Could the stellar black hole's cousin, the primordial black hole, account for the dark matter in our Universe?
Credits: NASA/CXC/M.Weiss
For almost half a century, scientists have subscribed to the theory that when a star comes to the end of its life-cycle, it will undergo a gravitational collapse. At this point, assuming enough mass is present, this collapse will trigger the formation of a black hole. Knowing when and how a black hole will form has long been something astronomers have sought out.
And why not? Being able to witness the formation of black hole would not only be an amazing event, it would also lead to a treasure trove of scientific discoveries. And according to a recent study by a team of researchers from Ohio State University in Columbus, we may have finally done just that.
The research team was led by Christopher Kochanek, a Professor of Astronomy and an Eminent Scholar at Ohio State. Using images taken by the Large Binocular Telescope (LBT) and Hubble Space Telescope (HST), he and his colleagues conducted a series of observations of a red supergiant star named N6946-BH1.
Artist’s impression of the star in its multi-million year long and previously unobservable phase as a large, red supergiant. Credit: CAASTRO / Mats Björklund (Magipics)
To break the formation process of black holes down, according to our current understanding of the life cycles of stars, a black hole forms after a very high-mass star experiences a supernova. This begins when the star has exhausted its supply of fuel and then undergoes a sudden loss of mass, where the outer shell of the star is shed, leaving behind a remnant neutron star.
This is then followed by electrons reattaching themselves to hydrogen ions that have been cast off, which causes a bright flareup to occur. When the hydrogen fusing stops, the stellar remnant begins to cool and fade; and eventually the rest of the material condenses to form a black hole.
However, in recent years, several astronomers have speculated that in some cases, stars will experience a failed supernova. In this scenario, a very high-mass star ends its life cycle by turning into a black hole without the usual massive burst of energy happening beforehand.
Artistic representation of the material around the supernova 1987A. Credit: ESO/L.
Using information obtained with the LBT, the team noted that N6946-BH1 showed some interesting changes in its luminosity between 2009 and 2015 – when two separates observations were made. In the 2009 images, N6946-BH1 appears as a bright, isolated star. This was consistent with archival data taken by the HST back in 2007.
However, data obtained by the LBT in 2015 showed that the star was no longer apparent in the visible wavelength, which was also confirmed by Hubble data from the same year. LBT data also showed that for several months during 2009, the star experienced a brief but intense flare-up, where it became a million times brighter than our Sun, and then steadily faded away.
They also consulted data from the Palomar Transit Factory (PTF) survey for comparison, as well as observations made by Ron Arbour (a British amateur astronomer and supernova-hunter). In both cases, the observations showed evidence of a flare during a brief period in 2009 followed by a steady fade.
In the end, this information was all consistent with the failed supernovae-black hole model. As Prof. Kochanek, the lead author of the group’s paper – – told Universe Today via email:
“In the failed supernova/black hole formation picture of this event, the transient is driven by the failed supernova. The star we see before the event is a red supergiant — so you have a compact core (size of ~earth) out the hydrogen burning shell, and then a huge, puffy extended envelope of mostly hydrogen that might extend out to the scale of Jupiter’s orbit. This envelope is very weakly bound to the star. When the core of the star collapses, the gravitational mass drops by a few tenths of the mass of the sun because of the energy carried away by neutrinos. This drop in the gravity of the star is enough to send a weak shock wave through the puffy envelope that sends it drifting away. This produces a cool, low-luminosity (compared to a supernova, about a million times the luminosity of the sun) transient that lasts about a year and is powered by the energy of recombination. All the atoms in the puffy envelope were ionized — electrons not bound to atoms — as the ejected envelope expands and cools, the electrons all become bound to the atoms again, which releases the energy to power the transient. What we see in the data is consistent with this picture.”
The Large Binocular Telescope, showing the two imaging mirrors. Credit: NASA
Naturally, the team considered all available possibilities to explain the sudden “disappearance” of the star. This included the possibility that the star was shrouded in so much dust that its optical/UV light was being absorbed and re-emitted. But as they found, this did not accord with their observations.
“The gist is that no models using dust to hide the star really work, so it would seem that whatever is there now has to be much less luminous then that pre-existing star.” Kochanek explained. “Within the context of the failed supernova model, the residual light is consistent with the late time decay of emission from material accreting onto the newly formed black hole.”
Naturally, further observations will be needed before we can know whether or not this was the case. This would most likely involve IR and X-ray missions, such as the Spitzer Space Telescope and the Chandra X-ray Observatory, or one of he many next-generation space telescopes to be deployed in the coming years.
In addition, Kochanek and his colleagues hope to continue monitoring the possible black hole using the LBT, and by re-visiting the object with the HST in about a year from now. “If it is true, we should continue to see the object fade away with time,” he said.
Future missions, like the James Webb Space Telescope, will be able to observe possible failed supernovae/blackholes to confirm their existence. Credit: NASA/JPL
Needless to say, if true, this discovery would be an unprecedented event in the history of astronomy. And the news has certainly garnered its share of excitement from the scientific community. As Avi Loeb – a professor of astronomy at Harvard University – expressed to Universe Today via email:
“The announcement on the potential discovery of a star that collapsed to make a black hole is very interesting. If true, it will be the first direct view of the delivery room of a black hole. The picture is somewhat messy (like any delivery room), with uncertainties about the properties of the baby that was delivered. The way to confirm that a black hole was born is to detect X-rays.
“We know that stellar-mass black holes exist, most recently thanks to the discovery of gravitational waves from their coalescence by the LIGO team. Almost eighty years ago Robert Oppenheimer and collaborators predicted that massive stars may collapse to black holes. Now we might have the first direct evidence that the process actually happens in nature.
But of course, we must remind ourselves that given its distance, what we could be witnessing with N6946-BH1 happened 20 million years ago. So from the perspective of this potential black hole, its formation is old news. But to us, it could be one of the most groundbreaking observations in the history of astronomy.
Much like space and time, significance is relative to the observer!
These are transmission electron microscope images showing tiny magnetofossils containing iron-60, a form of iron produced during the violent explosion and death of a massive star in a supernova. They were deposited by bacteria in sediments found on the floor of the Pacific Ocean. Click for more details. Credit: courtesy Marianne Hanzlik, Chemie Department, FG Elektronenmikroskopie, Technische Universität München
Space and events that transpire there directly affect our lives and those of our remote ancestors including early humans who walked the planet two million years ago. Credit: Bob King
Outer space touches us in so many ways. Meteors from ancient asteroid collisions and dust spalled from comets slam into our atmosphere every day, most of it unseen. Cosmic rays ionize the atoms in our upper air, while the solar wind finds crafty ways to invade the planetary magnetosphere and set the sky afire with aurora. We can’t even walk outside on a sunny summer day without concern for the Sun’s ultraviolet light burning out skin.
So perhaps you wouldn’t be surprised that over the course of Earth’s history, our planet has also been affected by one of the most cataclysmic events the universe has to offer: the explosion of a supergiant star in a Type II supernova event. After the collapse of the star’s core, the outgoing shock wave blows the star to pieces, both releasing and creating a host of elements. One of those is iron-60. While most of the iron in the universe is iron-56, a stable atom made up of 26 protons and 30 neutrons, iron-60 has four additional neutrons that make it an unstable radioactive isotope.
The Crab Nebula, shown here in this image from NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope, is the expanding cloud of gas and dust left after a massive star exploded as a supernova in 1054. Supernovae propel a star’s innards back into space while creating new radioactive isotopes such as iron-60. Credit: NASA, ESA, J. Hester and A. Loll (Arizona State University)
If a supernova occurs sufficiently close to our Solar System, it’s possible for some of the ejecta to make its way all the way to Earth. How might we detect these stellar shards? One way would be to look for traces of unique isotopes that could only have been produced by the explosion. A team of German scientists did just that. In a paper published earlier this month in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, they report the detection of iron-60 in biologically produced nanocrystals of magnetite in two sediment cores drilled from the Pacific Ocean.
Magnetite is an iron-rich mineral naturally attracted to a magnet just as a compass needle responds to Earth’s magnetic field. Magnetotactic bacteria, a group of bacteria that orient themselves along Earth’s magnetic field lines, contain specialized structures called magnetosomes, where they store tiny magnetic crystals – primarily as magnetite (or greigite, an iron sulfide) in long chains. It’s thought nature went to all this trouble to help the creatures find water with the optimal oxygen concentration for their survival and reproduction. Even after they’re dead, the bacteria continue to align like microscopic compass needles as they settle to the bottom of the ocean.
These are transmission electron microscope images showing tiny magnetofossils containing iron-60, a form of iron produced during the violent explosion and death of a massive star in a supernova. They were deposited by bacteria in sediments found on the floor of the Pacific Ocean. Click for more details. Credit: courtesy Marianne Hanzlik, Chemie Department, FG Elektronenmikroskopie, Technische Universität München
After the bacteria die, they decay and dissolve away, but the crystals are sturdy enough to be preserved as chains of magnetofossils that resemble beaded garlands on the family Christmas tree. Using a mass spectrometer, which teases one molecule from another with killer accuracy, the team detected “live” iron-60 atoms in the fossilized chains of magnetite crystals produced by the bacteria. Live meaning still fresh. Since the half-life of iron-60 is only 2.6 million years, any primordial iron-60 that seeded the Earth in its formation has long since disappeared. If you go digging around now and find iron-60, you’re likely looking at at a supernova as the smoking gun.
Co-authors Peter Ludwig and Shawn Bishop, along with the team, found that the supernova material arrived at Earth about 2.7 million years ago near the boundary of the Pleistocene and Pliocene epochs and rained down for all of 800,000 years before coming to an end around 1.7 million years ago. If ever a hard rain fell.
Reconstruction of Homo habilis at the Westfälisches Museum für Archäologie. Credit: Lillyundfreya / Wikipedia
The peak concentration occurred about 2.2 million years ago, the same time our early human ancestors, Homo habilis, were chipping tools from stone. Did they witness the appearance of a spectacularly bright “new star” in the night sky? Assuming the supernova wasn’t obscured by cosmic dust, the sight must have brought our bipedal relations to their knees.
There’s even a possibility that an increase in cosmic rays from the event affected our atmosphere and climate and possibly led to a minor die-off at the time. Africa’s climate dried out and repeated cycles of glaciation became common as global temperatures continued their cooling trend from the Pliocene into the Pleistocene.
Cosmic rays strike our atmosphere all the time, but their energy is spent striking atoms to create showers of secondary, less energetic particles, a few of which sometimes make it to the ground. Credit: Simon Swordy, University of Chicago, NASA
Cosmic rays, which are extremely fast-moving, high-energy protons and atomic nucleic, rip up molecules in the atmosphere and can even penetrate down to the surface during a nearby supernova explosion, within about 50 light years of the Sun. The high dose of radiation would put life at risk, while at the same time providing a surge in the number of mutations, one of the creative forces driving the diversity of life over the history of our planet. Life — always a story of taking the good with the bad.
The discovery of iron-60 further cements our connection to the universe at large. Indeed, bacteria munching on supernova ash adds a literal twist to the late Carl Sagan’s famous words: “The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff.” Big or small, we owe our lives to the synthesis of elements within the bellies of stars.
Artist’s impression of the supernova flare seen in the Large Magellanic Cloud on February 23rd, 1987. Credit: CAASTRO / Mats Björklund (Magipics).
Thirty years ago, a star that went by the designation of SN 1987A collapsed spectacularly, creating a supernova that was visible from Earth. This was the largest supernova to be visible to the naked eye since Kepler’s Supernova in 1604. Today, this supernova remnant (which is located approximately 168,000 light-years away) is being used by astronomers in the Australian Outback to help refine our understanding of stellar explosions.
Led by a student from the University of Sydney, this international research team is observing the remnant at the lowest-ever radio frequencies. Previously, astronomers knew much about the star’s immediate past by studying the effect the star’s collapse had on the neighboring Large Magellanic Cloud. But by detecting the star’s faintest hisses of radio static, the team was able to observe a great deal more of its history.
The team’s findings, which were published yesterday in the journal Monthly Notices of the Royal Astronomical Society, detail how the astronomers were able to look millions of years farther back in time. Prior to this, astronomers could only observe a tiny fraction of the star’s life cycle before it exploded – 20,000 years (or 0.1%) of its multi-million year life span.
Artist’s impression of the star in its multi-million year long and previously unobservable phase as a large, red supergiant. Credit: CAASTRO / Mats Björklund (Magipics)
As such, they were only able to see the star when it was in its final, blue supergiant phase. But with the help of the Murchison Widefield Array (MWA) – a low-frequency radio telescope located at the Murchison Radio-astronomy Observatory (MRO) in the West Australian desert – the radio astronomers were able to see all the way back to when the star was still in its long-lasting red supergiant phase.
In so doing, they were able to observe some interesting things about how this star behaved leading up to the final phase in its life. For instance, they found that SN 1987A lost its matter at a slower rate during its red supergiant phase than was previously assumed. They also observed that it generated slower than expected winds during this period, which pushed into its surrounding environment.
Joseph Callingham, a PhD candidate with the University of Sydney and the ARC Center of Excellence for All-Sky Astrophysics (CAASTRO), is the leader of this research effort. As he stated in a recent RAS press release:
“Just like excavating and studying ancient ruins that teach us about the life of a past civilization, my colleagues and I have used low-frequency radio observations as a window into the star’s life. Our new data improves our knowledge of the composition of space in the region of SN 1987A; we can now go back to our simulations and tweak them, to better reconstruct the physics of supernova explosions.”
Aerial photograph of the core region of the MWA telescope. Credit: mwatelescope.org
The key to finding this new information was the quiet and (some would say) temperamental conditions that the MWA requires to do its thing. Like all radio telescopes, the MWA is located in a remote area to avoid interference from local radio sources, not to mention a dry and elevated area to avoid interference from atmospheric water vapor.
As Professor Gaensler – the former CAASTRO Director and the supervisor of the project – explained, such methods allow for impressive new views of the Universe. “Nobody knew what was happening at low radio frequencies,” he said, “because the signals from our own earthbound FM radio drown out the faint signals from space. Now, by studying the strength of the radio signal, astronomers for the first time can calculate how dense the surrounding gas is, and thus understand the environment of the star before it died.”
These findings will likely help astronomers to understand the life cycle of stars better, which will come in handy when trying to determine what our Sun has in store for us down the road. Further applications will include the hunt for extra-terrestrial life, with astronomers being able to make more accurate estimates on how stellar evolution could effect the odds of life forming in different star systems.
In addition to being home to the MWA, the Murchison Radio-astronomy Observatory (MRO) is also the planned site of the future Square Kilometer Array (SKA). The MWA is one of three telescopes – along with the South African MeerKAT array and the Australian SKA Pathfinder (ASKAP) array – that are designated as a Precursor for the SKA.
Visible, infrared, and X-ray light image of Kepler's supernova remnant (SN 1604) located about 13,000 light-years away. Credit: NASA, ESA, R. Sankrit and W. Blair (Johns Hopkins University).
We all know that we are “made of star-stuff,” with all of the elements necessary for the formation of planets and even life itself having originated inside generations of massive stars, which over billions of years have blasted their creations out into the galaxy at the explosive ends of their lives. Supernovas are some of the most powerful and energetic events in the known Universe, and when a dying star finally explodes you wouldn’t want to be anywhere nearby—fresh elements are nice and all but the energy and radiation from a supernova would roast any planets within tens if not hundreds of light-years in all directions. Luckily for us we’re not in an unsafe range of any supernovas in the foreseeable future, but there was a time geologically not very long ago that these stellar explosions are thought to have occurred in nearby space… and scientists have recently found the “smoking gun” evidence at the bottom of the ocean.
Two independent teams of “deep-sea astronomers”—one led by Dieter Breitschwerdt from the Berlin Institute of Technology and the other by Anton Wallner from the Australian National University—have investigated sediment samples taken from the floors of the Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian oceans. The sediments were found to contain relatively high levels of iron-60, an unstable isotope specifically created during supernovas.
The Local Bubble is a 300-light-year long region that was carved out of the interstellar medium by supernovas (Source: Science@NASA)
The teams found that the ages of the iron-60 concentrations (the determination of which was recently perfected by Wallner) centered around two time periods, 1.7 to 3.2 million years ago and 6.5 to 8.7 million years ago. Based on this and the fact that our Solar System currently resides within a peanut-shaped region virtually empty of interstellar gas known as the Local Bubble, the researchers are confident that this provides further evidence that supernovas exploded within a mere 330 light-years of Earth, sending their elemental fallout our way.
“This research essentially proves that certain events happened in the not-too-distant past,” said Adrian Melott, an astrophysicist and professor at the University of Kansas who was not directly involved with the research but published his take on the findings in a letter in Nature. (Source)
The researchers think that two supernova events in particular were responsible for nearly half of the iron-60 concentrations now observed. These are thought to have taken place among a a nearby group of stars known as the Scorpius–Centaurus Association, some 2.3 and 1.5 million years ago. At those same time frames Earth was entering a phase of repeated global glaciation, the end of the last of which led to the rise of modern human civilization.
While supernovas of those sizes and distances wouldn’t have been a direct danger to life here on Earth, could they have played a part in changing the climate?
“Our local research group is working on figuring out what the effects were likely to have been,” Melott said. “We really don’t know. The events weren’t close enough to cause a big mass extinction or severe effects, but not so far away that we can ignore them either. We’re trying to decide if we should expect to have seen any effects on the ground on the Earth.”
Regardless of the correlation, if any, between ice ages and supernovas, it’s important to learn how these events do affect Earth and realize that they may have played an important and perhaps overlooked role in the history of life on our planet.
“Over the past 500 million years there must have been supernovae very nearby with disastrous consequences,” said Melott. “There have been a lot of mass extinctions, but at this point we don’t have enough information to tease out the role of supernovae in them.”
You can find the teams’ papers in Nature here and here.
UPDATE 4/14/16: The presence of iron-60 from the same time periods as those mentioned above has also been found on the Moon by research teams in Germany and the U.S. Read more here.
There are a few places in the Universe that defy comprehension. And supernovae have got to be the most extreme places you can imagine. We’re talking about a star with potentially dozens of times the size and mass of our own Sun that violently dies in a faction of a second.
Faster than it take me to say the word supernova, a complete star collapses in on itself, creating a black hole, forming the denser elements in the Universe, and then exploding outward with the energy of millions or even billions of stars.
But not in all cases. In fact, supernovae come in different flavours, starting from different kinds of stars, ending up with different kinds of explosions, and producing different kinds of remnants.
There are two main types of supernovae, the Type I and the Type II. I know this sounds a little counter intuitive, but let’s start with the Type II first.
These are the supernovae produced when massive stars die. We’ve done a whole show about that process, so if you want to watch it now, you can click here.
Our eyes would never see the Crab Nebula as this Hubble image shows it. Image credit: NASA, ESA, J. Hester and A. Loll (Arizona State University)
But here’s the shorter version.
Stars, as you know, convert hydrogen into fusion at their core. This reaction releases energy in the form of photons, and this light pressure pushes against the force of gravity trying to pull the star in on itself.
Our Sun, doesn’t have the mass to support fusion reactions with elements beyond hydrogen or helium. So once all the helium is used up, the fusion reactions stop and the Sun becomes a white dwarf and starts cooling down.
But if you have a star with 8-25 times the mass of the Sun, it can fuse heavier elements at its core. When it runs out of hydrogen, it switches to helium, and then carbon, neon, etc, all the way up the periodic table of elements. When it reaches iron, however, the fusion reaction takes more energy than it produces.
The outer layers of the star collapses inward in a fraction of a second, and then detonates as a Type II supernova. You’re left with an incredibly dense neutron star as a remnant.
But if the original star had more than about 25 times the mass of the Sun, the same core collapse happens. But the force of the material falling inward collapses the core into a black hole.
Extremely massive stars with more than 100 times the mass of the Sun just explode without a trace. In fact, shortly after the Big Bang, there were stars with hundreds, and maybe even thousands of times the mass of the Sun made of pure hydrogen and helium. These monsters would have lived very short lives, detonating with an incomprehensible amount of energy. Artist’s impression of a supernova
Those are Type II. Type I are a little rarer, and are created when you have a very strange binary star situation.
One star in the pair is a white dwarf, the long dead remnant of a main sequence star like our Sun. The companion can be any other type of star, like a red giant, main sequence star, or even another white dwarf.
What matters is that they’re close enough that the white dwarf can steal matter from its partner, and build it up like a smothering blanket of potential explosiveness. When the stolen amount reaches 1.4 times the mass of the Sun, the white dwarf explodes as a supernova and completely vaporizes. In a Type Ia supernova, a white dwarf (left) draws matter from a companion star until its mass hits a limit which leads to collapse and then explosion. Credit: NASA
Because of this 1.4 ratio, astronomers use Type Ia supernovae as “standard candles” to measure distances in the Universe. Since they know how much energy it detonated with, astronomers can calculate the distance to the explosion.
There are probably other, even more rare events that can trigger supernovae, and even more powerful hypernovae and gamma ray bursts. These probably involve collisions between stars, white dwarfs and even neutron stars.
As you’ve probably heard, physicists use particle accelerators to create more massive elements on the Periodic Table. Elements like ununseptium and ununtrium. It takes tremendous energy to create these elements in the first place, and they only last for a fraction of a second.
But in supernovae, these elements would be created, and many others. And we know there are no stable elements further up the periodic table because they’re not here today. A supernova is a far better matter cruncher than any particle accelerator we could ever imagine.
Next time you hear a story about a supernova, listen carefully for what kind of supernova it was: Type I or Type II. How much mass did the star have? That’ll help your imagination wrap your brain around this amazing event.
Observational astronomy is a study in patience. Since the introduction of the telescope over four centuries ago, steely-eyed observers have watched the skies for star-like or fuzzy points of light that appear to move. Astronomers of yore discovered asteroids, comets and even the occasional planet this way. Today, swiftly moving satellites have joined the fray. Still other ‘new stars’ turn out to be variables or novae.
Tombaugh’s mechanical ‘steampunk starblinker’ on display at the Lowell observatory. Image credit: Dave Dickinson
The advent of photography in the late 19th century upped the game… you’ll recall that Clyde Tombaugh used a blink comparator to discover Pluto from the Lowell Observatory in 1930. Clyde’s mechanical shutter device looked at glass plates in quick sequence. Starblinker takes this idea a step further, allowing astro-imagers to compare two images in rapid sequence in a similar ‘blink comparator’ fashion. You can even quickly compare an image against one online from, say, the SDSS catalog or Wikipedia or an old archival image. Starblinker even automatically orients and aligns the image for you. Heck, this would’ve been handy during a certain Virtual Star Party early last year hosted by Universe Today, making the tale of the ‘supernova in M82 that got away’ turn out very differently…
Often times, a great new program arises simply because astrophotographers find a need where no commercial offering exists. K3CCD Tools, Registax, Orbitron and Deep Sky Stacker are all great examples of DIY programs that filled a critical astronomy need which skilled users built themselves.
“I started to code the software after the mid of last month,” Starblinker creator Marco Lorrai told Universe Today. “I knew there was a plugin for MaximDL to do this job, but nothing for people like me that make photos just with a DSLR… I own a 250mm telescope, and my images go easily down to magnitude +18 so it is not impossible to find something interesting…”
Starblinker is a free application, and features a simple interface. Advanced observers have designed other programs to sift through video and stacks of images in the past, but we have yet to see one with such a straight-forward user interface with an eye toward quick and simple use in the field.
Starblinker screenshot. Image credit: Marco Lorrai
“The idea came to me taking my astrophotos: many images are so rich with stars, why not analyze (them) to check if something has changed?” Lorrai said. “I started to do this check manually, but the task was very thorny, because of differences in scale and rotation between the two images. Also, the ‘blinking’ was done loading two alternating windows containing two different images… not the best! This task could be simplified if someone already has a large set of images for comparison with one old image (taken) with the same instrument… a better method is needed to do this check, and then I started to code Starblinker.”
Why Starblinker
I can see a few immediate applications for Starblinker: possible capture of comets, asteroids, and novae or extragalactic supernovae, to name a few. You can also note the variability of stars in subsequent images. Take images over the span of years, and you might even be able to tease out the proper motion of nearby fast movers such as 61 Cygni, Kapteyn’s or even Barnard’s Star, or the orbits of double stars. Or how about capturing lunar impacts on the dark limb of the Moon? It may sound strange, but it has been done before… and hey, there’s a lunar eclipse coming right up on the night of September 27/28th. Just be careful to watch for cosmic ray hits, hot pixels, satellite and meteor photobombs, all of which can foil a true discovery.
The Dumbell Nebula (M27). Note the (possible) variable star (marked). Image credit: Marco Lorrai
“A nice feature to add could be the support for FITS images and I think it could be very nice that… the program could retrieve automatically a comparison image, to help amateurs that are just starting (DSLR imaging).” Lorrai said.
And here is our challenge to you, the skilled observing public. What can YOU do with Starblinker? Surprise us… as is often the case with any hot new tech, ya just never know what weird and wonderful things folks will do with it once it’s released in the wild. Hey, discover a comet, and you could be immortalized with a celestial namesake… we promise that any future ‘Comet Dickinson’ will not be an extinction level event, just a good show…
Think you’ve discovered a comet? Nova? A new asteroid? Inbound alien invasion fleet? OK, that last one might be tweet worthy, otherwise, here’s a handy list of sites to get you started, with the checklist of protocols to report a discovery used by the pros:
