SKYWATCHER'S REPORT, NOVEMBER 26, 1991

   Hello. This is the Smithsonian SkyWatcher's Report for the week
beginning November 26, 1991, from the Albert Einstein Planetarium at
the National Air and Space Museum.

   The Moon moves through the stars of the morning sky this week,
with Last Quarter occurring on the 28th at 10:22 AM Eastern Standard
Time.  Luna passes well south of Jupiter on the morning of the 29th,
and pays a call on dazzling Venus as the sun rises on December 2nd.

   Saturn is the only planet currently visible during the early
evening hours, with the emphasis on early!  He sets at around nine
o'clock now, but with old Sol approaching the time of earliest sunset
you still have several hours of darkness to find him.  The other
night I looked out across the leafless treeline to the west of my
house and saw an arc of first magnitude luminaries stretching like a
rainbow across the deep blue twilight sky.  From north to south they
were Vega, Altair, and Saturn, and even the latter's warm yellow cast
was tempered by the chilly rush of the north wind.  Plan to bid
farewell to Saturn soon; his days in the evening sky are numbered.

   Above the arc of stars and planet lies another, slightly dimmer
blue star marking the tail of Cygnus, the Swan.  This asterism is
also often called the Northern Cross, and it bears a much more
faithful resemblance to its namesake than its southern counterpart. 
As the evening wears on, watch Albireo, the second magnitude star
marking the Swan's beak and the Cross's base, tilt through the points
of the compass until it aims squarely down at the northwestern
horizon.  The cross seems to linger there for several weeks, and is
especially noticeable as the Holidays approach.  By the start of the
New year it becomes lost in the lengthening daylight, and it does not
return until the Spring, when once again it looks like a swan lifting
above the northeastern skyline.

   As the evening wears on, look overhead for a large square
asterism marking Pegasus, the Flying Horse.  Its stars are not
particularly bright like those in the west and east at this time, but
its distinctive shape makes it unique among constellations.  Pegasus
is a convenient signpost to many other celestial sights; a line drawn
from the bottom up through the left side of the square skirts Caph,
the right-hand serif in the W-shaped constellation of Cassiopeia and
continues on toward Polaris, the North Star.  A similar line, drawn
from the top down along the right side of the square, points to
lonely Fomalhaut, scudding along the southern horizon.  Following the
two top stars to the east will take you past the Pleiades to
Aldebaran and on into the middle of the Great Winter Circle, while
going the opposite way leads you to the aforementioned Altair.

   In the middle of the Great Winter Circle stands Orion, grandest
of all the constellations.  His three Belt stars are a dead giveaway,
and they in turn point out Aldebaran and Sirius, brightest star in
the sky.

   By midnight the Winter Circle stares down on the frosty landscape
and a bright object begins to shine in the east.  This is Jupiter,
mightiest of the Planets, who has now taken up residence among the
stars of Leo, most royal of the beasts.  Old Jove, in turn, nears the
meridian in the wee hours as Venus pierces the morning sky with her
dazzling glimmer.  Watch Venus overtake and pass the first magnitude
star Spica by the week's end; Venus is over 100 times brighter than
the star and rapidly leaves it behind as she continues her relentless
pursuit of the Sun.  Take heart, though; she will grace the pre-dawn
sky for several more weeks to come.

   So, until next week, put some starlight in your life, and thank
you for calling the Smithsonian.