SKYWATCHER'S REPORT, NOVEMBER 5, 1991

   Hello. This is the Smithsonian SkyWatcher's Report for the week
beginning November 5, 1991, from the Albert Einstein Planetarium at
the National Air and Space Museum.

   The Moon reappears in the evening sky this week, waxing through
the crescent phases low in the southwest and growing to First Quarter
on the 14th at 9:02 AM Eastern Standard Time.  Look for the Moon just
north of yellowish Saturn on the evening of the 12th.

   Saturn is the only planet readily accessible to evening
skywatchers.  He hangs low in the southwest as twilight fades, and
while by no means dazzling in appearance, he's the brightest object
in this part of the sky.  Fleet Mercury is located in the glow of
twilight, but he is all but invisible owing to the shallow angle the
ecliptic makes with the western horizon at this time of the year.  He
will pass greatest eastern elongation from the Sun in another week,
but you will be very hard-pressed to see him.  You'll be hard-pressed
to see Saturn, too, if you wait until late evening.  The ringed
planet sets at around 10 PM now, so you have to act quickly to catch
him.  He's still a treat for the small telescope owner, and careful
scrutiny will show the massive shadow of the planet cast on the
western edge of the rings.

   This is a good time of year to become acquainted with the stars,
since there are three prominent geometrical patterns that can be
sighted within a couple of hours during the course of the night.  In
the early evening, look high in the west for the three blue-white
beacons of the Summer Triangle, Vega, Deneb, and Altair.  They are
nearly overhead at the end of evening twilight, and due to their
northerly declinations they linger in the sky until after midnight.

   By 9:00 the triangle is replaced by a more subdued set of stars
which form a large square just south of the zenith.  The square marks
the one half of the body of Pegasus, the Flying horse...we'll leave
it up to you to decide which half it is.  It no more resembles a
horse of any color than I do, but the ancients had vivid
imaginations.  The square points out many other autumnal
constellations.  By following a line of stars leading from the upper
left corner we traverse Andromeda on our way to the W-shaped asterism
of Cassiopeia, passing the small fuzzy blob of light of the Andromeda
Galaxy.  This small wisp of light looks like a detached portion of
the Milky Way, and that description gives us a clue as to it's true
nature.  It is the combined light of some 400 billion stars, removed
from us at a distance of 2.5 million light years.  If we could
journey there and look back, the sight of our own milky way would
have a similar look in the Andromedan sky.

   Still later at night, at around midnight, the stars of the Great
Winter Circle become prominent in the east.  The circle is dominated
by the imposing figure of Orion, whose three belt stars point the way
to Sirius, brightest star in the night.  Clockwise from Sirius we
pass Procyon, the twin stars Castor and Pollux, Capella, and
Aldebaran before landing on Rigel, the bright blue star marking
Orion's knee.  nine of the sky's 25 brightest stars are located
within the confines of this circle.

   Rising at about 1 AM is the king of the planets, Jupiter, who is
located in the constellation of Leo, king of the beasts.  Jupiter has
now parted ways with fickle Venus, who is bent on chasing the Sun. 
Old Jove will rise a little earlier each night and will be the
dominant planet in the evening sky as winter sets in at year's end. 
Venus rises about 2 hours later and is quite high as the twilight of
dawn gathers for another day.  The crisp, clear air makes her seem
even brighter than usual, and she is a fitting courier announcing the
arrival of the chill winter Sun.

   So, until next week, keep your eyes on the skies, and thank you
for calling the Smithsonian.