Just yesterday, I had no idea there was going to be a lunar eclipse this morning. Then I skimmed an article somewhere and got the impression it was only going to be visible on the east coast, And then I read about it on Bad Astronomy and realized I had it backward. Not only would I be able to see part of the eclipse, but I’d be able to see the moon in totality! All I had to do was get up early in the morning and find a place with a clear view of the western horizon. I considered driving down to the beach at 5am, but thought I’d start out by seeing how visible it was from home. As it turns out, I should have gone to the beach to start with, but I had some good viewing before I left.

So I set my alarm, woke up at 5am (plus the snooze button), and went out to see what I could see. To my surprise, I actually had a decent view of the partially-eclipsed moon from across the street. It was about half-covered at this point (as shown in the first photo above). So I stayed out there for a few minutes deciding what I wanted to do, went back in to have some coffee and breakfast, then went back out shortly before 6 to watch as the umbra covered the disc the rest of the way. I found it interesting that it didn’t look particularly reddish this time, just brown.

Awesome viewing, though it was clear the moon would dip below the roofs of the houses soon. I needed a less obstructed view.

As soon as the moon went into totality, I went back inside, woke up Katie just enough to let her know I was going, tossed the rest of my coffee in a travel mug and hightailed it down to the beach.

The eastern sky was already light when the total phase of the eclipse began. As I drove, I crested a south-facing hill and saw the southeastern horizon lit up deep red, with silhouettes of Saddleback and the San Gorgonio mountains in the distance. (Keep reading – I’ll come back to this.) I came so close to stopping, but figured eclipses are only visible from here every few years. Sunrises happen every day. So I kept driving.

I went to an area of Redondo Beach or Torrance (I’m still not sure exactly where the city boundaries are) where a street runs along the top of a cliff, with occasional stairs leading down to the beach maybe 30 feet below. There’s parking along the street, and benches where you can watch the waves or the sunset…or this morning, where you could watch the eclipse. There were maybe a dozen or so people spread out along the cliff, several of them with tripods. Clearly I wasn’t the only eclipse hunter who had thought of this spot.

Unfortunately, I got there too late. By the time I parked the car, the sky was light enough and the moon was behind enough haze that it was virtually invisible. It would have been a great full moonset under ordinary circumstances, but the refracted earthlight just wasn’t enough to light it up against the dawn sky.

Everyone still there was packing up.

I stayed for a few minutes, then decided I might as well catch the sunrise while I was out. The closest place I could think of that had a clear view of the east was the hill I’d crested earlier, which had a good view…except for the the skeletal towers of a cluster of power transmission lines. I wasn’t the only one out to watch the sunrise, either. Aside from the people walking their dogs in the park nearby, there were two other guys standing around by their cars (carefully not parked near each other), looking at the eastern horizon.

I’ve always found it interesting that you can see distant mountains silhouetted at dawn and dusk that you can’t see during the day. The San Gabriels at left are often visible from the South Bay (just as they are from Orange County), but it’s rare to be able to see Saddleback from out here. And the mountains in between? Very rare. I think they’re the San Gorgonio range.

If you look carefully in the higher-res version, you can see that there’s another mountain sticking up behind the Santa Ana Mountains, near the north/left end of the range. I’m not 100% certain, but I think it’s San Jacinto!

Anyway, I walked a little ways down the hill to where the towers didn’t block the spot where the sky looked brightest, and waited. It wasn’t very long — I’d cut things pretty closely — before a bright spot appeared just a little above the horizon. Oddly, it looked like it appeared between the horizon and the tops of the mountains south of Saddleback, which I chalked up to the same sort of refraction that causes the sun to look higher than it actually is.

After the sun cleared the mountains, I stared to head back to my car, when one of the guys asked me, “You’re here for the eclipse, right?” It turned out that he’d misunderstood an article describing where and when to look, and so he went out to a spot with a view of the eastern horizon a little after 6:00. The moon had been behind him (and a hill) the whole time. I showed him some of the photos I’d taken earlier, so he at least got to see them second hand, and then we both drove off.

As I drove home, I noticed other people out just looking at the view. At one point I caught a glimpse of Downtown Los Angeles, with several skyscrapers reflecting the sun like columns of light.

I’m not usually up that early in the morning these days, especially not on a weekend. I’m more of a night owl. But sometimes I can definitely see the appeal.

I kind of wish that sign wasn’t in the middle there, but my Photoshop (well, Gimp) skills aren’t quite up to it. Maybe I’ll give it a shot with context-aware fill at some point.

It was awfully hazy toward the north, though, and you can see the San Gabriels are fading into the haze toward the left of the frame.

These were taken at the same spot as the loooong snowy panorama from January 2008, the Misty Mountains from December of the same year, and the cloud window panorama from January 2010. (I should really just come up with something to tag all the photos I’ve taken there.)

On my drive to work this morning, a gap in the clouds left this amazing view of the San Gabriels covered in snow from the last week’s worth of storms, lit up by the rising sun. By the time I made it up to Los Angeles, clouds had blocked the view, and I didn’t see any mountains for the rest of the day.

When I stopped to take a picture, I realized that there was a whole line of little puffball clouds, tracking the mountain range exactly, but not appearing anywhere else in the sky. It really shows the effect that mountains have on cloud formation!

I decided to try for a four-shot panorama of the whole range.

It came out better than I expected, actually. I believe this is the first time I’ve stitched together a panorama using phone pictures. I used Hugin, which was a little hampered by the fact that I couldn’t find specs on the G1 lens type, focal length, etc., but it seems to have done reasonably well.

Yesterday morning on my way to work, I looked over and saw the San Gabriel Mountains practically glowing with the morning light of the sun. A layer of cloud blocked the sun where I was, making the distant peaks look that much brighter. I stopped at a spot where I knew I’d have a good view of the mountain range.

It turned out to be a really interesting view, as you can see from the panorama below.

District Mountain Panorama, originally uploaded by Kelson.

By lunchtime, the sky above was mostly clear, and clouds were bunched up against the mountains, completely blocking them. I was indoors most of the morning, but it seemed as if the cloud layer had just blown northward until it hit the mountains, then stopped.

Click on either image to go to its Flickr page.

Side Note: Stitching

Since Canon’s PhotoStitch no longer works on Snow Leopard, I’ve tried out Hugin again. It’s come a long way since I first tried to use it and spent hours just getting a panorama to break up spectacularly and went hunting for PhotoStitch on the disc that came with the camera! I can’t get it to automatically detect control points on Fedora, but it does a surprisingly good job even when I’ve only marked around 10 or so. The ability to customize things like which pieces appear in front of others, or which projection to use, has turned out to be useful as well.

I remember riding in a shuttle back from LAX once before dawn, and I could swear that I could see the silhouette of the San Jacinto Mountains from Los Angeles. They’re out near Palm Springs. Not exactly something you normally see from LA.

*There’s a wedge-shaped hill that’s visible in the west from north Orange County on really clear days. Somehow I had it in my head that it was Signal Hill, but I noticed when I went to Long Beach Comic Con a few weeks ago that (a) I passed the city of Signal Hill on the way to the con and (b) the hill I can see from Orange County was still visible to the northwest from Long Beach. Thanks to Google Earth for helping me figure out just what hill it actually was!

The wind’s changed, the weather’s cooled off, and firefighters are starting to get the Station Fire under control. For the first time in days, we’ve been able to see the San Gabriel Mountains.

The eastern part of the range was clearly visible this afternoon — more visible than it usually is during the summer, with LA’s famous smog. The middle was completely shrouded in smoke. Interestingly, while it looks like the plume is being blown east, visibility seems to be worse toward the western end. Maybe wind near the ground is blowing west, and wind higher up is blowing east?

Compare to this shot of the mountains covered in snow last December:

I’ve been to the observatory once, on a tour my family took on August 8, 1992. We’d just come back from a trip to Florida where we visited Disney World and Cape Canaveral during the summer I was 16. I really wish I could remember more about the trip…but I took pictures and labeled them (though not in much detail). With the observatory threatened, I thought I’d dig them out and scan them**. You can see all eight on my Mt. Wilson Observatory Tour 1992 photoset on Flickr.

The Observatory’s website is apparently hosted on the grounds, so the fact that its fire status page is still responding indicates it’s still there and has power. The latest update says that they’re setting up a backup info page at http://joy.chara.gsu.edu/CHARA/fire.php, but that’s showing a 404 error right now.

*As in the Hubble Space Telescope.

**Scanning them was not a problem. Digging them out? That was a problem. I knew exactly which photo album they were in, and thought I knew where the album was. As it turned out, it wasn’t there. It was in an unopened box shoved at the very back of the long,narrow hall closet, such that I had to move 3 other boxes, several bags, and an unused CD rack just to see that it was labeled “photo albums” on top. Edit: And, oh yeah, the trail of ants along the wall, going after the long-forgotten bag of Halloween candy. The wall I kept brushing up against. How did I forget that part?

That’s the missing piece that makes the classic phrase more than a simple tautology. It’s not just that it’s in the last place you look. It’s that it’s in the last place you want to look.

Irvine in the foreground, Peter’s Canyon in the middle distance, and far in the distance, the San Gabriel Mountains covered in snow.

Saddleback Snow, originally uploaded by Kelson.

Not as spectacular as December’s display, but still nifty. The San Gabriel Mountains were really impressive this morning, but I didn’t have time to catch a picture.

Also: it’s way too cold for Southern California. The car thermometer said 45°F.