Observatory opens to the sky
After months of preparation, trips to the hardware store, more than a few late-night YouTube tutorials, and a memorable encounter with a Middlemarch nor'wester that sent all hundred kilograms of my first roof cartwheeling more than 30m across my paddock, I'm delighted to report that my dream has finally taken shape. I'm now the proud owner of an observatory.
It sits out there now, squat and sturdy, in a corner of a Middlemarch field where the sky still feels wild and the view is to die for. I am pleased to report that the roof rolls off smoothly, powered by a garage door opener that makes a satisfyingly industrial clunk when it opens and closes. A Dunedin firm helped with the design, and after a few hard-earned lessons in wind dynamics, we seem to have got it right.
Last week, I experienced first light, that magical moment when a telescope in a new home gets to do what it was made for. As the sky faded to velvet, I aligned the mount to the south celestial pole, checked the cables, took a deep breath, and aimed upwards.
One after another, the familiar jewels of the southern sky appeared on my screen — Canopus and Achernar, the Magellanic Clouds smeared like silver brushstrokes across the darkness, the Tarantula Nebula quietly flexing its luminous muscles in the Large Cloud. Inside the warm room I'd built — a refuge against frosty nights — my coffee sat untouched. At 2am, I was lying flat on the floor of the observatory, staring up through the gap in the roof, entranced by the raw, unfiltered night sky and the whispering glow of our galaxy.
It was quiet, cold, and absolutely perfect.
And now, I face the pleasant dilemma of every new parent: what to name this latest arrival — something fitting, something that speaks to Middlemarch and the sky above it. I'm open to suggestions — if you've got an idea for a name, drop me a line. The only rule is that it must sound good echoing across a frosty paddock at midnight.
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Otago Daily Times
4 days ago
- Otago Daily Times
Observatory opens to the sky
PHOTO: IAN GRIFFIN After months of preparation, trips to the hardware store, more than a few late-night YouTube tutorials, and a memorable encounter with a Middlemarch nor'wester that sent all hundred kilograms of my first roof cartwheeling more than 30m across my paddock, I'm delighted to report that my dream has finally taken shape. I'm now the proud owner of an observatory. It sits out there now, squat and sturdy, in a corner of a Middlemarch field where the sky still feels wild and the view is to die for. I am pleased to report that the roof rolls off smoothly, powered by a garage door opener that makes a satisfyingly industrial clunk when it opens and closes. A Dunedin firm helped with the design, and after a few hard-earned lessons in wind dynamics, we seem to have got it right. Last week, I experienced first light, that magical moment when a telescope in a new home gets to do what it was made for. As the sky faded to velvet, I aligned the mount to the south celestial pole, checked the cables, took a deep breath, and aimed upwards. One after another, the familiar jewels of the southern sky appeared on my screen — Canopus and Achernar, the Magellanic Clouds smeared like silver brushstrokes across the darkness, the Tarantula Nebula quietly flexing its luminous muscles in the Large Cloud. Inside the warm room I'd built — a refuge against frosty nights — my coffee sat untouched. At 2am, I was lying flat on the floor of the observatory, staring up through the gap in the roof, entranced by the raw, unfiltered night sky and the whispering glow of our galaxy. It was quiet, cold, and absolutely perfect. And now, I face the pleasant dilemma of every new parent: what to name this latest arrival — something fitting, something that speaks to Middlemarch and the sky above it. I'm open to suggestions — if you've got an idea for a name, drop me a line. The only rule is that it must sound good echoing across a frosty paddock at midnight.
NZ Herald
22-07-2025
- NZ Herald
Anxious parents face tough choices on AI, from concern at what it might do to fear of their kids missing out
For Marc Watkins, a professor at the University of Mississippi who focuses on AI in teaching, 'we've already gone too far' to shield children from AI past a certain age. Yet some parents are still trying to remain gatekeepers to the technology. 'In my circle of friends and family, I'm the only one exploring AI with my child,' remarked Melissa Franklin, mother of a 7-year-old boy and a law student in Kentucky. 'I don't understand the technology behind AI,' she said, 'but I know it's inevitable, and I'd rather give my son a head start than leave him overwhelmed.' 'Benefits and risks' The path is all the more difficult for parents given the lack of scientific research on AI's effects on users. Several parents cite a study published in June by MIT, showing that brain activity and memory were more stimulated in individuals not using generative AI than in those who had access to it. 'I'm afraid it will become a shortcut,' explained a father-of-three who preferred to remain anonymous. 'After this MIT study, I want them to use it only to deepen their knowledge.' This caution shapes many parents' approaches. Tal prefers to wait before letting his sons use AI tools. Melissa Franklin only allows her son to use AI with her supervision to find information 'we can't find in a book, through Google, or on YouTube'. For her, children must be encouraged to 'think for themselves', with or without AI. But one father – a computer engineer with a 15-year-old – doesn't believe kids will learn AI skills from their parents anyway. 'That would be like claiming that kids learn how to use TikTok from their parents,' he said. It's usually 'the other way around'. Watkins, himself a father, says he is 'very concerned' about the new forms that generative AI is taking, but considers it necessary to read about the subject and 'have in-depth conversations about it with our children'. 'They're going to use artificial intelligence,' he said, 'so I want them to know the potential benefits and risks.' The chief executive of AI chip giant Nvidia, Jensen Huang, often speaks of AI as 'the greatest equalisation force that we have ever known', democratising learning and knowledge. But Watkins fears a different reality: 'Parents will view this as a technology that will be used if you can afford it, to get your kid ahead of everyone else'. The computer scientist father readily acknowledged this disparity, saying: 'My son has an advantage because he has two parents with PhDs in computer science'. 'But that's 90% due to the fact that we are more affluent than average' – not their AI knowledge. 'That does have some pretty big implications,' Watkins said. -Agence France-Presse
Otago Daily Times
11-07-2025
- Otago Daily Times
A tale of two planets in the evening glow
Image: Ian Griffin There's something quietly marvellous about stepping outside just after sunset in midwinter. The chores of the day are mostly done, the fire crackling inside, and the sky — well, the sky is just getting started. This week, the evening twilight holds a planetary treat for those with a bit of patience and a clear view to the northwest. Low in the fading glow of the sun, the elusive planet Mercury puts in a rare appearance. If you catch it — just above the horizon as the sky darkens — you're seeing a world just over 105 million kilometres away. Through a telescope, Mercury appears as a delicate crescent, only about 25% illuminated, and is very small. It's in the constellation Cancer, a dim patch of sky that doesn't offer much in the way of bright stars but does cradle the lovely Beehive Cluster — though you'll need binoculars and dark skies to find it. A bit higher in the sky, not far behind the departing sun, Mars lingers in the western sky. It's a rusty speck now, not as bright as it can be during closer approaches, but still worth seeking out. At more than 300 million kilometres away, Mars is far beyond Mercury's neighbourhood, and tonight it lies in Leo. That constellation is ruled by Regulus, a hot blue-white star that marks the heart of the lion. Regulus is a respectable 79 light years away, and if you're feeling poetic, you could imagine it as the lion's beating heart, pulsing softly in the velvet dark. Stand there a moment longer. Let your eyes adjust. Above Leo lies Virgo, and further still, the mighty Arcturus in Bootes glows amber and steady. And if you glance low in the west, you'll just catch Sirius — still hanging on, the dog star defying winter's chill. If you stay out too long, your nose will feel the bite of frost, but your soul might just feel warmer. Midwinter skies ask little of us — just time and perhaps a decent jacket — and in return, they offer the vast, quiet company of planets and stars. Worth it, I'd say.
