A twinkle that knows the high air and not the low
Assumes Seeing.
A ground-based telescope looks through turbulent air, and the sharpness of a star’s image changes from one moment to the next as the turbulence along the line of sight rearranges itself. Lucky imaging exploits that: it takes thousands of exposures short enough to freeze the air, measures the sharpness of a reference star in each, and keeps only the few per cent in which the star happened to be sharp. In those frames the telescope works close to its diffraction limit, and the method has resolved thousands of close binary stars and checked the hosts of transiting planets for companions that would dilute their transits.
What the selection keeps is a statement about the air along one line of sight, and a target a few arcseconds away looks through different air at altitude. The reach of the luck across the field turned out to be longer than the geometry of a single fixed layer allows, for a reason that was a property of the selection: when the strengths of the turbulent layers vary from frame to frame, the frames that are sharp on the reference are disproportionately frames in which the high layer was quiet, and a quiet high layer is good for the whole field. The selection was choosing the high layer without being asked to.
That raised an obvious question. The high layer can be measured directly, from something the reference star does that its sharpness only hints at: it twinkles. Choosing the frames by the twinkle might choose them for the field instead of for the star.
Why a star twinkles, and which air makes it
Twinkling — scintillation — is a fluctuation in a star’s total brightness, not in its sharpness, and it needs distance to develop. A turbulent layer imposes a pattern of phase delays on the starlight passing through it — small fluctuations in the same refractive index whose smooth gradient bends light round the Earth near the horizon. Directly below the layer the light’s intensity is unchanged; the phases are scrambled but the energy has not moved. Over the kilometres between the layer and the ground, the phase pattern focuses and defocuses the light, like the bright and dark ripples on the bottom of a swimming pool, and the telescope sits in a pattern of intensity that shifts as the layer blows past. The further the light has travelled since the layer, the stronger the pattern.
So scintillation is made almost entirely by high turbulence. A layer at the ground, or in the telescope dome, scrambles the phases just above the mirror and leaves the light no distance in which to turn phase into intensity; it blurs the image and does not make the star twinkle. A layer at eight or ten kilometres, where the jet stream’s wind shear generates turbulence, makes the star twinkle strongly. For a large telescope, which averages the intensity pattern over its aperture, the twinkling of a bright star depends on each layer’s strength weighted by roughly the square of its height.
That weighting is the useful coincidence. The size of the patch of sky over which the turbulence is the same in every direction — the isoplanatic angle, which sets how far from the reference a target can be and still be corrected — is set by each layer’s strength weighted by the five-thirds power of its height. Scintillation and isoplanatism weight the layers in nearly the same way, which is why instruments that profile the turbulence at observatories use scintillation to estimate the isoplanatic angle. The twinkle of a bright star is close to a direct measurement of how wide the corrected field would be.
Even, and not sharp
The opening figure is the answer, and it is not the one hoped for. Frames chosen by the reference’s scintillation give a target the same sharpness at every separation out to thirty arcseconds: a Strehl ratio of 0.22 on axis and 0.22 at the edge. The selection has done exactly what it should for the high layer — the frames are ones in which it was quiet, so the target’s blur barely depends on where it is — and nothing at all for the ground layer, which blurs every direction alike and which the twinkle cannot see.
With half the turbulence at the ground, that half is selected only by chance. The frames chosen by scintillation have an ordinary ground layer, and the Strehl ratio that an ordinary ground layer allows is low. Frames chosen by the reference’s sharpness, by contrast, are sharp because both layers happened to be quiet; they start higher on axis, at 0.52, and fall to 0.34 at the edge because their high layer was quiet only partly by design.
So the twinkle on its own makes the field even rather than sharp. That is not useless — an image whose blur is the same everywhere is easier to measure than one whose blur changes with position, for photometry of crowded fields especially — but it is not what was wanted. What was wanted was the sharpness of the lucky frames carried further across the field, and for that the ground layer still has to be selected somehow.
Instruments that read the air from the twinkle
Using a star’s twinkle to measure the turbulence above a telescope is not new; it is how observatory sites are chosen. A double star whose two components are a few arcseconds apart casts two intensity patterns on the telescope’s pupil, from two directions, and turbulence at a given height shifts one pattern relative to the other by an amount proportional to that height. Correlating the two patterns reveals a peak for each layer at its own shift, and the heights and strengths of the layers can be read off the correlation — a technique that sounds the atmosphere with starlight, as the shape of a setting Sun sounds the air near the horizon. Smaller instruments do it with a single bright star, by comparing the twinkle in apertures of different sizes, each sensitive to turbulence at a different range of heights.
Those instruments established the profiles on which the two-layer model here is built: a strong ground layer of a few hundred metres, a weaker but significant layer near the tropopause, and between them a variable assortment. They also established the variability, on time scales from seconds to hours. What they average away, by necessity, is the frame-to-frame behaviour on millisecond scales, because their correlations need many frames to build up. The lucky-imaging question sits exactly in that gap.
Choosing on both
The natural compromise ranks every frame twice, once by the reference’s sharpness and once by its twinkle, and keeps the frames best on the sum. The sharpness rank selects the ground layer, along with whatever the high layer was doing; the twinkle rank selects the high layer specifically.
The figure traces the family of such rules. Scintillation alone sits at the bottom left, worse at both centre and edge. Sharpness alone sits at the top of the centre axis. Between them, an equal weighting gives the sharpest edge of any rule in the family — 0.37 against 0.34 — at the cost of nearly a fifth of the central sharpness. From that point to sharpness alone the rules form a frontier, each trading some of the centre for some of the field, and which point is chosen depends on what the image is for. A survey for close companions of bright stars wants the centre; an image of a globular cluster’s core wants the field.
The gain at the edge is modest, about eight per cent in Strehl ratio, and it is bought with a larger loss at the centre. The twinkle adds information, but less than the hope suggested, because most of what the selection by sharpness already achieved at the edge was the same choice of a quiet high layer, made indirectly.
A measurement that has to be good
A frame’s scintillation is not known exactly. It is estimated from the fluctuation of the reference star’s total brightness within the few milliseconds of the exposure, and that estimate is noisy — from the photons, and from the averaging of the intensity pattern over the aperture.
The advantage is fragile. With a perfectly measured twinkle, choosing on both beats choosing on sharpness at the edge by about an eighth. With an error of a third in the natural logarithm — a scintillation known to within about a third of itself in each frame — the advantage is gone, and with larger errors choosing on both is worse than choosing on sharpness alone, because the twinkle rank is now adding noise to a selection that was working.
Measuring a star’s scintillation to a third in a few milliseconds needs a bright star, brighter than the references lucky imaging usually uses; the method’s strength has been that a star of fifteenth or sixteenth magnitude is enough to judge sharpness. The twinkle is a measurement of second order — a variance of a brightness rather than a brightness — and it costs more light to measure well.
When the high air comes and goes
The whole idea depends on the high layer’s strength changing from frame to frame, so that there are quiet moments to choose. If it does not change, there is nothing for the twinkle to pick.
The combination’s gain grows with the variation. When the layers’ strengths vary by fifteen per cent from frame to frame, adding the twinkle rank costs a quarter of the edge’s sharpness, because it dilutes the sharpness rank without adding information worth having. When the layers vary by a factor of e, it gains five per cent. Real layers have been measured varying by factors of two on time scales of seconds, which puts the method near the break-even point — a gain that exists, is small, and depends on the night.
Scintillation alone never catches up at this share of ground turbulence, whatever the variation. It is always choosing half the turbulence and ignoring the other half.
A site whose turbulence is high
The decisive number is how much of the turbulence sits near the telescope, because that is the part the twinkle cannot see.
At a site where most of the turbulence is high — a mountain summit where the ground layer is thin and the dome is well ventilated — the twinkle has most of the turbulence to choose with, scintillation alone nearly matches the sharpest frames at the edge, and choosing on both gains more than a tenth. At a site dominated by ground turbulence, the twinkle has little to work with and the selection is worse for consulting it. The good astronomical sites are characterised partly by how thin their ground layer is, and it is at those sites that the high layer is most of the problem and the twinkle most of the answer.
The same consideration decides the value of a much more ambitious remedy. Adaptive optics that corrects only the ground layer — a single deformable mirror conjugated to the telescope’s pupil, guided by an average over several stars — gives a corrected field as wide as the high layers allow, which is many arcseconds. A ground-layer correction followed by lucky selection on the twinkle would divide the work cleanly: the mirror removes what the twinkle cannot see, and the selection chooses the moments when what the mirror cannot correct is quiet.
Frame by frame
The scatter behind those averages shows what the twinkle does and does not know.
Frame by frame the twinkle is a weak guide: frames of low scintillation are sharper on average, but the scatter is large, and the correlation with the far target’s sharpness is no stronger than with the reference’s own. That is the ground layer again. Both the reference and the far target suffer the high layer’s share of each frame’s blur, and the twinkle reports that share; what separates a sharp frame from a dull one, for either of them, is often the ground layer, which the twinkle cannot see. The twinkle predicts the field’s evenness better than it predicts its sharpness.
Small telescopes, large telescopes
The method sits in a narrow range of telescope sizes, and the twinkle pulls in the opposite direction from the luck. Lucky frames exist only when the telescope is not much larger than the patches of coherent air: the chance that the whole aperture is momentarily flat falls exponentially with the number of patches across it, and beyond a ratio of telescope diameter to Fried parameter of about seven to ten, lucky frames are too rare to collect. On a ten-metre mirror that resolves like a ten-centimetre one without correction, the method fails outright.
Scintillation is the reverse. A small telescope sees the intensity pattern’s individual ripples and its twinkle is large and dominated by the smallest, fastest structures; a large one averages over many ripples and its twinkle is small but stable and closely tied to the high layers’ strength. Measuring a frame’s scintillation well therefore favours a large aperture, and measuring it quickly favours a bright star. The two-and-a-half-metre telescope drawn here is near the upper end of where lucky imaging works and near the lower end of where scintillation is a clean measurement of the high layer, which is one reason the gain is marginal: the method and its proposed improvement want different telescopes.
The twinkle is also, elsewhere, a noise. For bright stars observed from the ground it sets the floor under precise photometry, which is why fast photometers searching for the brief shadows of small bodies passing in front of stars work hardest against it, and why the error budgets of adaptive optics count the high layers twice — once in the residual blur at the edge of the field and once in the guide star’s own fluctuating brightness. Here it is turned from a nuisance into a measurement, and it turns out to be a better measurement of the field’s evenness than of its sharpness.
What the model leaves out
The atmosphere here is two layers, one at the ground and one at a single height, each a Kolmogorov phase screen whose strength varies by an independent log-normal factor from frame to frame. Real profiles have several layers at different heights, with strengths that vary together when weather systems pass and independently otherwise. A middle layer at three or four kilometres would twinkle weakly and limit the field moderately, and it would weaken the twinkle’s value as a proxy for the isoplanatic angle. The scintillation is modelled as the high layer’s strength times a noise factor, rather than computed from the intensity pattern through the aperture; the frames are independent, when real exposures a few milliseconds apart share turbulence. And the Strehl ratio is computed from the phase variance after removing tilt, which is right for a short exposure’s core and leaves out the halo.
None of these changes the central point. A twinkle is made by distance, so it measures the air that is far from the telescope and not the air that is near, and selection on it can only ever choose the part of the turbulence it can see.
Why the twinkle is still worth having
The twinkle is not wasted even where it loses as a selection rule. The record of each frame’s scintillation, kept alongside the images, is a record of the high layer’s behaviour over the whole run, and it can be used after the fact: to estimate each frame’s isoplanatic angle, to model how the point-spread function changes across the field in the frames that were kept, and to correct the photometry of targets far from the reference for the blur they actually suffered. A lucky image whose field-dependent blur is known is more valuable than one whose blur is merely smaller, for exactly the crowded-field work the method is reaching towards.
That is a use that needs no compromise with the selection, and it suggests that the right place for the twinkle is not in the choice of frames but in the description of the frames chosen.
Still open: what the turbulence profile looks like on millisecond scales
Every number here rests on an assumption about how the layers vary: independently, by a factor of a given size, from one frame to the next. Profiles of the turbulence measured with scintillation-based instruments average over seconds to minutes, which is long enough to show layers strengthening and weakening but too long to say whether, within a second, the high layer has the quiet moments a frame-selection scheme needs. The data that would settle it — simultaneous millisecond records of a bright star’s scintillation and of the wavefront it delivers, at a good site, through a full night — are what a selection on the twinkle should be designed against, and they are within reach of instruments that already exist.
What links here
Essays that link to this one from their own argument.
The objects this essay names
Each one links to every other essay that touches it.
AnisoplanatismFried parameterIsoplanatic angleLucky imagingScintillationSeeingStrehl ratioTurbulence profile