Astronomy & Celestial Mechanics
the sky, computed
Generator

The sun-path generator

The Sun's altitude through the day at latitude 52°
The Sun's altitude through the day at latitude 52°. Solar altitude against the hour of the day, at one latitude, for the solstices and the equinox. Where a curve crosses zero is sunrise or sunset, and the width between the crossings is the length of the day.

Solar altitude against the hour of the day, at one latitude, for the solstices and the equinox. Where a curve crosses zero is sunrise or sunset, and the width between the crossings is the length of the day.

12 essays call sun-path. The drawing above is what it returns with no arguments at all; every call below passes it something, because a placement that passes nothing draws whichever member of the family the generator happens to default to rather than the one its essay argues about.

Where it is called

Every figure listed here is the same construction drawn at different numbers, so a correction to one is a correction to all of them.

The Sun's altitude through the day at latitude 52°. Solar altitude against the hour of the day, at one latitude, for the solstices and the equinox. Where a curve crosses zero is sunrise or sunset, and the width between the crossings is the length of the day. The observed sky

The Sun's path, and the tilt that makes the seasons

Summer is not when the Earth is closest to the Sun — that happens in January. It is when the Sun climbs higher and stays up longer, and both come from a 23.4° tilt.

 Twilight at latitude 52°. Solar altitude through the second half of the day at 52°, on June solstice, equinox, December solstice, with the four thresholds that define twilight marked. Sunset is at −0.833° rather than at 0° because the Sun's own semi-diameter and the atmosphere's refraction together lift it by that much when it is geometrically already down. Civil twilight ends at −6°, when the brightest stars appear and outdoor work stops; nautical at −12°, when the horizon can no longer be seen against the sky and a sextant becomes useless; astronomical at −18°, when the sky stops contributing to a photometric measurement. Their durations at equinox here are 34 min, 40 min, 42 min — twilight is not a fixed length, it is the reciprocal of how steeply the Sun descends, and the Sun descends at an angle of about 90° − φ to the horizon. At this latitude the curve for June solstice never reaches −18° at all: astronomical twilight does not end, and there is no astronomically dark night from about 48.6° upward. The observed sky

Three definitions of night

Twilight ends at three different depression angles, and each threshold is a statement about what can no longer be done. Its length is not a duration but a rate — how fast the Sun goes down — and above one latitude the deepest of the three never arrives at all.

 The zenith sky after sunset, as single scattering predicts it. The brightness of the zenith sky at 550 nm, in magnitudes per square arcsecond with brighter upward, against the Sun's depression below the horizon, computed by single scattering in a spherical atmosphere: US Standard Atmosphere densities, Rayleigh scattering, a 300 Dobson-unit ozone layer, and every photon scattered exactly once. The Earth's shadow climbs the zenith as R(sec d − 1) — 8.7 km at 3°, 35.1 at 6°, 142 at 12° — through air that thins by a factor of e every eight kilometres or so, so the brightness does not fall steadily: it falls 1.4 magnitudes a degree between 3° and 6°, and 2.7 a degree between 7° and 10°. The model gives 14.3 at the end of civil twilight and 27.0 at the end of nautical. The dashed line is the natural night sky, 21.9 magnitudes per square arcsecond. Single scattering reaches it at 9.25° of depression — 8.8 degrees before the 18° at which astronomical twilight is observed to end. The difference is not an error in the arithmetic; it is the light this model leaves out, scattered more than once. The observed sky

The shadow that climbs the zenith

After sunset the sky overhead is lit only above the Earth's own shadow, and the shadow climbs as the square of the Sun's depression. Scattering computed once from that geometry predicts a sky that dims faster and faster and is as dark as night by nine degrees. The real sky takes eighteen, and the difference is light that has been scattered more than once.

 The colour of the zenith at twilight, with and without ozone. The colour of the zenith sky relative to sunlight — the 450 nm brightness against the 650 nm brightness, in magnitudes, bluer upward — against the Sun's depression, computed by single scattering with a 300 Dobson-unit ozone layer and again with none. Scattering alone favours blue by λ⁻⁴, which would make the sky 1.60 magnitudes bluer than sunlight if nothing were removed on the way; that is the dotted line. But after sunset every ray has travelled a long grazing path, and Rayleigh scattering removes blue from that path faster than red, so the two effects fight. Without ozone they very nearly cancel: the zenith is 0.01 magnitudes from sunlight's own colour at sunset and 0.06 at 6° — a pale, colourless sky — and only turns bluer, −0.13 at 10°, once the lit layer has climbed above most of the air the grazing ray used to cross. With ozone the zenith is −0.34 at sunset, −0.67 at 6° and −0.76 at 10°: bluer than without by 0.72 magnitudes at 6°, because the grazing ray also crosses the ozone layer near its tangent point, and ozone's Chappuis band absorbs orange and red rather than blue. The ozone cross-sections are approximate, and the conclusion does not depend on them to better than a factor of two. The observed sky

Ozone keeps the twilight zenith blue

After sunset the sky overhead turns a deep blue, and scattering alone cannot explain it. The light that reaches the zenith has first grazed hundreds of kilometres of air, which strips blue out of the sunlight as fast as scattering puts it back, and the two very nearly cancel. What tips the balance is a gas that makes up a few parts in ten million of the atmosphere and absorbs the orange and red end of the spectrum.

 How far the Sun has to sink before the sky darkens, on four worlds. The dimming of the zenith sky relative to sunset, in magnitudes, against the Sun's depression, for single scattering in an isothermal atmosphere with the stated scale height and vertical optical depth, scattering isotropically: the Earth (R 6371 km, H 8.5 km, τ 0.097); Mars (dust) (R 3389.5 km, H 11.1 km, τ 0.5); Titan (haze) (R 2574.7 km, H 50 km, τ 4); Pluto (haze) (R 1188 km, H 50 km, τ 0.02). These are representative values for the layer that does the scattering — air on the Earth, dust on Mars, haze on Titan and Pluto — not full models of those atmospheres. The angle over which a sky darkens is set by the height of the scatterers against the size of the planet, √(2H/R), because that is the depression at which the shadow over the zenith has risen one scale height. The Earth dims by ten magnitudes at 8.6° of depression, which at the equator of a world whose solar day is 24 hours takes the Sun 35 minutes. Mars (dust) dims by ten magnitudes at 13.4° of depression, which at the equator of a world whose solar day is 24.66 hours takes the Sun 55 minutes. Titan (haze) dims by ten magnitudes at 29.8° of depression, which at the equator of a world whose solar day is 382.7 hours takes the Sun 31.7 hours. Pluto (haze) dims by ten magnitudes at 43.9° of depression, which at the equator of a world whose solar day is 153.3 hours takes the Sun 18.7 hours. The observed sky

The air's height against the planet sets the twilight

On the Earth the sky overhead fades over about nine degrees of the Sun's descent. That angle is not a property of air or of sunlight. It is the square root of twice the height of the scattering layer divided by the radius of the planet, and on a small world with a tall haze it grows to tens of degrees — so that twilight on Titan lasts more than a day.

 Five zones, one angle. The Sun's highest and lowest noon altitude against latitude, for an obliquity of 23.4393°. The upper curve is noon on the summer solstice and the lower is noon on the winter one; they are the same function of latitude displaced by 23.4393° in each direction, which is why one angle fixes both boundaries. Where the upper curve reaches 90° is the tropic, at 23.44° — the Sun is overhead at noon there on exactly one day, and somewhere inside it on every other day of the year. Where the lower curve reaches 0° is the polar circle, at 66.56° — the Sun fails to clear the horizon on the winter solstice, and on more days the further poleward one goes. They are the same inequality: |φ| ≤ ε for the first and |φ| ≥ 90° − ε for the second, and an obliquity of zero would collapse the tropics to the equator and push the polar circles to the poles, leaving one zone. The areas are the part that is not intuitive. The fraction of a sphere between two latitudes is the difference of their sines, so the tropics — a band a quarter of the way to the pole — hold 39.8 per cent of the Earth's surface, the temperate zones 52.0 per cent, and the polar caps only 8.3. The zone where the Sun can be overhead is 4.8 times the area of the zone where it can fail to rise, and both boundaries are the same 23.44°. The observed sky

Five zones, and one angle

The tropics are where the Sun can stand overhead; the polar circles are where it can fail to rise. Both boundaries are 23.44° measured from opposite ends, and the zone the Sun can reach is nearly five times the area of the zone it can miss.

 The sunniest place on Earth is the summer pole. Daily-mean insolation against latitude, on the June solstice, an equinox, the December solstice, computed from Q = (S₀/π)(ā/r)²[H₀ sin φ sin δ + cos φ cos δ sin H₀] with the half-day angle clipped to a whole day inside the polar circle. On the June solstice the north pole receives 524 W/m² and the equator receives 385 — a third more, at a place where the Sun never climbs above 23.4°. Both halves of the product move: the Sun is low, so each square metre catches little; and it never sets, so the catching goes on for twenty-four hours. The second wins. That is why the daily total and the noon altitude disagree about where summer is strongest, and the daily total is the one an ice sheet answers to. The two hemispheres are not equal either. The Earth is nearest the Sun in early January, so the December solstice delivers 559 W/m² to the south pole against the north pole's 524 in June — 6.7 per cent more. What this cannot show is any temperature. Antarctica is the coldest place on Earth and receives the most sunlight of anywhere on any day; between the insolation and the temperature sit an albedo, an altitude and an ocean. The observed sky

The sunniest place is the summer pole

On the June solstice the north pole receives 524 watts per square metre averaged over the day, and the equator 385. The Sun there never climbs above 23.4° and never sets, and the second wins.

 The hottest month is not the sunniest. The annual cycle of insolation at latitude 45°, and the temperature three surfaces of different heat capacity answer it with — each curve scaled to its own peak, because what is being compared is timing and not degrees. A surface losing 2 W m⁻² per kelvin above equilibrium obeys C dT/dt = Q − λT, and for a sinusoidal forcing that is one line of algebra: the response lags by arctan(ωC/λ) and is reduced by (1 + (ωC/λ)²)^(−½). a continental interior, 2.4 m of water, lags by 45.6 days and swings by 71 per cent of what a massless surface would; a shallow shelf sea, 10 m of water, lags by 77.6 days and swings by 23 per cent of what a massless surface would; a deep ocean mixed layer, 50 m of water, lags by 88.5 days and swings by 4.8 per cent of what a massless surface would. The lag can never reach a quarter of a cycle — three months — because an arctangent cannot reach 90°, which is why no inhabited place has its warmest month in December in the north, and why the sea comes closest. And the two numbers are one number: the same ωC/λ that carries the phase towards the quarter cycle divides the amplitude, so a long lag is bought with a small swing and cannot be had any other way. The solstice falls on day 170 and the peak insolation with it; the warmest day at this latitude follows between 46 and 89 days later depending on what is underneath. What no curve here can show is the atmosphere's own transport, which carries heat sideways between the surfaces drawn and makes each one's effective capacity partly its neighbour's. The observed sky

The hottest month is not the sunniest

A surface with a heat capacity answers a sinusoid late and small, and the two are the same number. The lag can never reach a quarter of a cycle — three months for a year, six hours for a day — because an arctangent cannot reach ninety degrees.

 The zenith sky after sunset, with light scattered twice. The brightness of the zenith sky at 550 nm in magnitudes per square arcsecond, brighter upward, against the Sun's depression: light scattered once (dashed), light scattered twice (dash-dot), and their sum (solid), in a spherical atmosphere with US Standard densities, Rayleigh scattering and 300 Dobson units of ozone. The dashed horizontal line is the natural night sky, 21.9 magnitudes per square arcsecond. Once-scattered light reaches it at 9.2°; the sum, dominated beyond about seven degrees by light scattered twice, reaches it at 13.2°, and it falls to a hundredth of the night sky — five magnitudes fainter, about the smallest excess a careful measurement of the sky can detect — at 17.5°, where once-scattered light alone would have reached that level at 11.9°. The second order falls more slowly than the first because it can reach the zenith by two grazing hops — sunlight to the lit air low towards the Sun, and that air to the shadowed air overhead — each of which needs only part of the depression a single hop would. Orders beyond the second are left out, so the solid curve is a lower bound on the sky. The observed sky

The night is late because the light bounces twice

Light scattered once can reach the zenith only while the Earth's shadow over the observer is still low in the air, and by that reckoning the sky should reach the darkness of night about nine degrees after sunset. It does not until eighteen. The difference is light scattered twice — first by the sunlit air hundreds of kilometres towards the sunset, then again by the shadowed air overhead — and adding it to the calculation moves the end of twilight almost exactly to where observers have always put it.

 Where in the sky satellites still shine. The whole sky above the horizon seen from below, zenith at the centre, north at the top and the Sun 20° below the western horizon. Shaded: directions in which a satellite at 550 km is sunlit — 71 per cent of the sky by solid angle. The lit region is a cap pressed against the western horizon and reaching up past the zenith, because satellites seen low in the west are far away and high above the shadow; the eastern sky is dark. Ignoring the penumbra moves its edge by under a degree. The observed sky

The shadow that also switches off the satellites

After sunset the sky overhead darkens as the Earth's shadow climbs through the air, and the same shadow, climbing on past the top of the atmosphere, decides which satellites still catch sunlight. For a satellite five hundred and fifty kilometres up the zenith stays lit until the Sun is twenty-three degrees down — five degrees past the end of astronomical twilight — and at the latitudes of most large observatories' summers there is no hour of the night when it is not.

 A glow that switches off when the shadow climbs past the shell. The brightness that 100,000 objects in orbit add to the zenith sky, as a share of a natural moonless sky of 22 magnitudes per square arcsecond, against how far the Sun is below the horizon, for shells at 550 and 1200 km. Each object reflects sunlight with an effective area of 0.5 square metres; together they spread a glow whose brightness does not depend on the shell's distance, because more objects are in each patch of sky the further away the shell is. At the end of astronomical twilight the two shells add 3.0% and 2.5%. The lower shell's zenith goes dark when the Earth's shadow passes it, at 23 degrees of depression; the higher one at 33. The observed sky

A glow counted in square metres of sunlit metal

Satellites too faint to see one at a time still reflect sunlight, and spread across the sky they add a glow that no mask removes. Its brightness does not depend on how far away the satellites are, only on how much sunlit area is in orbit and whether the Earth's shadow has reached it. A hundred thousand satellites as bright as today's add a few per cent to the darkest sky — and the estimate that the sky is already a tenth brighter rests on an area of debris nobody has measured.

 The Moon is late by anything from a quarter of an hour to well over an hour. Minutes between one moonrise and the next at latitude 52° N, against the Moon's longitude along its orbit, with the node at 0°. The daily delay is 10 minutes at longitude 354° and 84 at 222°. The mean of 50 minutes everyone quotes is true only as an average. A full Moon stands opposite the Sun, so it passes the shallow point near the September equinox, and the crescent passes it in spring. The observed sky

A full Moon that stops rising later

The Moon rises about fifty minutes later each day. That number is an average that hardly any night obeys. At fifty-two degrees north, in late September, the full Moon rises only ten or twenty minutes later for several nights running, so that a bright Moon stands in the evening sky for most of a week, just when harvest once needed it. Nothing about the Moon changes. It is the angle at which its path meets the horizon, and that angle goes through its lowest value at one point of the ecliptic, which the autumn's full Moon happens to occupy.

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