
ASTRO SPACE NEWS
A DIVISION OF MID NORTH COAST ASTRONOMY (NSW)
(ASTRO) DAVE RENEKE
SPACE WRITER - MEDIA PERSONALITY - SCIENCE CORRESPONDENT ABC/COMMERCIAL RADIO - LECTURER - ASTRONOMY OUTREACH PROGRAMS - ASTRONOMY TOUR GUIDE - TELESCOPE SALES/SERVICE/LESSONS - MID NORTH COAST ASTRONOMY GROUP (Est. 2002) Enquiries: (02) 6585 2260 Mobile: 0400 636 363 Email: davereneke@gmail.com
'SEESTAR' - The Smart Telescope Revolution Has Arrived
Backyard astronomy is being transformed, and the ZWO Seestar S50 is leading the way. Traditional astrophotography once required bulky gear and endless setup; now it's fast, simple, and affordable.
The Seestar isn't a conventional telescope—there's no eyepiece. Instead, this compact, thermos-sized astrograph integrates optics, camera, tracking motors, filters, Wi-Fi, and a rechargeable battery, all controlled via a mobile app. In under ten minutes, it's ready to capture and stack images of the Moon, planets, and deep-sky objects in real time.
Despite its size, it offers a 250mm focal length, 1080p sensor, narrowband and solar filters, real-time stacking, dew heater, and direct image saving to your device, with options for raw frames. Results are impressive even in light-polluted skies. It ships with a tabletop tripod, solar filter, and charger, though a sturdier tripod is recommended. Downsides are modest: limited battery life, occasional lunar tracking tweaks, and mild field rotation in long exposures due to its alt-az mount.


ZWOptical is a Chinese technology company founded in 2011 that designs and manufactures astrophotography equipment, primarily its range of dedicated astronomy cameras known as ASI (Astronomical Imaging) cameras, but also includes other accessories and software. ZWO cameras are popular for planetary imaging, deep-sky imaging, and autoguiding, and the company is known for innovating in the astrophotography field and making it accessible to a wide range of users See Website https://www.zwoastro.com/
—David Reneke, Astronomer, Mid North Coast Astronomy Group, NSW
Mid North Coast Astronomy group - SEESTAR 50 On Show
We recently held a special Field Night for the members and public to view this amazing Seestar 50 Imaging Telescope from ZWO Optics China. Everyone attending was in awe of the imaging capabilities of this new asset to amateur Astronomy. Several people indicated an interest in purchasing their own! This is a rough collection of images on the go.
Oldest Meteorite Crater on Earth Found in Western Australia
Discovery in the Pilbara rewrites the story of Earth's first continents

In the rugged heart of Western Australia's Pilbara region, scientists have unearthed something extraordinary — the oldest meteorite impact crater ever found on Earth. This ancient scar, more than 3.5 billion years old, outdates every known impact site by over a billion years. The discovery, published in Nature Communications, could change how we understand the birth of Earth's first continents. And, curiously enough, the crater was exactly where the research team hoped it would be.
The oldest rocks known to science date back over 3 billion years and form the foundations of modern continents. Yet, how these "continental seeds" formed remains a mystery. Some geologists believe they arose from hot plumes bubbling up from Earth's molten core — rather like wax rising in a lava lamp. Others argue they were forged by early versions of plate tectonics, with sections of crust colliding and sliding over each other as they still do today. But both theories rely on one key ingredient: the flow of heat from deep within our planet. The researchers behind this new discovery think something else was at play — a colossal impact from space.
A few years ago, the team proposed that giant meteorite impacts — some several kilometres across — may have provided the energy needed to create early continental crust in regions like the Pilbara. When these massive rocks from space slammed into the young Earth, they blasted enormous volumes of material skyward, melted vast areas of the crust, and triggered volcanic activity deep below. Over time, this molten material solidified into the thick continental "roots" that became the nuclei of our continents today.
Their initial evidence came from tiny zircon crystals — microscopic time capsules within the rocks — that revealed chemical signatures consistent with an impact origin. But to convince skeptics, they needed something more visible, something that could be held in one's hand. In May 2021, the researchers set off from Perth on a two-week field expedition into the Pilbara, teaming up with the Geological Survey of Western Australia (GSWA). Their target: a curious 20-metre-thick rock layer known as the Antarctic Creek Member, nestled between ancient lava flows near a 20-kilometre-wide dome.
This layer contained mysterious spherules — droplets of molten rock ejected by ancient impacts. But these could have come from anywhere on Earth, perhaps even from a crater long since destroyed. The only way to be sure was to find evidence of an impact at the site itself. They parked their 4WDs on a dusty track and fanned out across the landscape, scanning the rocks under the fierce Pilbara sun. An hour later, they regrouped — and every member of the team thought they'd found the same thing.
Shatter cones.
Shatter cones are beautiful, conical structures — fine, radiating fractures that fan out like the feathers of a badminton shuttlecock. They form only under the immense pressures of a meteorite impact, and are the only shock feature visible to the naked eye. Within an hour of starting their search, the team realised they were standing on the floor of an enormous ancient crater — one that had lain hidden for billions of years. They took samples, snapped photos, and vowed to return to study it in detail. And when they did — three years later, in May 2024 — the evidence was overwhelming. Shatter cones were everywhere, spread through the Antarctic Creek Member rocks across hundreds of metres. Above them lay thick, unshocked basalt layers, showing that the impact happened exactly 3.5 billion years ago. That made it the oldest impact crater ever discovered on Earth.
This find not only confirms that meteorite impacts shaped the earliest continents — it opens a new window into Earth's formative years. As co-author Tim Johnson of Curtin University noted, the discovery supports the theory that cosmic collisions played a vital role in the creation of continental crust, much as they did in shaping the Moon and other planets. It's also a reminder of how much remains hidden beneath our feet. As the researchers reflected on the discovery — made on land known and respected for millennia by the Nyamal Traditional Owners — they realised they may have stumbled upon one of Earth's great turning points.
Who knows how many more ancient craters lie buried in the world's oldest rocks, waiting to tell their story? Each one could bring us closer to understanding not just how the continents formed, but how life itself began.
Starlink Satellites Are Falling to Earth — Should We Be Worried?

Elon Musk's Starlink network — the vast web of internet satellites circling Earth — is starting to rain back down. Literally. Astronomers report that one to two Starlink satellites are re-entering the atmosphere every day, with around 120 burning up in January 2025 alone. At this pace, that's tens of thousands of reentries over the coming years.
What's going on? Starlink satellites orbit low — just a few hundred kilometres up — where Earth's atmosphere still drags on them. During times of intense solar activity, the upper atmosphere expands, slowing the satellites and pulling them Earthward. It's not a malfunction; it's physics doing what it does best — reminding us who's boss.
SpaceX designed the satellites to "demise" on re-entry, burning up completely. But not all of them do. Some tiny fragments of metal survive the plunge — aluminium, titanium, and other materials that might eventually alter the chemistry of the upper atmosphere. Scientists are just beginning to study whether this new kind of "sky pollution" could affect climate or ozone.
Then there's the question of scale. Starlink already has more than 6,000 satellites in orbit and plans tens of thousands more. Multiply even a small risk — a surviving bolt here, a speck of debris there — by that number, and you begin to see why researchers are uneasy. It's not catastrophic yet, but the margins are narrowing.
The threat isn't just to Earth's air. With so many satellites moving in low orbit, the risk of collisions rises, potentially triggering the dreaded "Kessler syndrome" — a chain reaction of debris hitting debris until low Earth orbit becomes an unusable scrapyard.
For now, SpaceX remains confident. They're improving the burn-up design, managing orbits more closely, and say no dangerous fragments have reached the ground. But experts warn that the pace of launches far outstrips regulation. There's no real global oversight of how many satellites can re-enter daily, or what their fiery ends might mean for the planet.
So, are Starlink satellites "falling at an alarming rate"? Yes — and the real alarm may be not the fireballs we see, but what's happening invisibly above our heads: a new experiment in planetary housekeeping we never quite signed up for.
October 2025 brings a rare celestial duet: two comets

It's October 2025, and the heavens are staging a show worthy of the front row. Two icy wanderers — Comet Lemmon and Comet SWAN — have decided to visit our corner of the cosmos at the same time, sweeping in from the deep freeze of the Oort Cloud. It's like two long-lost travellers from the far edge of the Solar System arriving at the same cosmic party, each with their own flair.
Comet Lemmon was the first to make its entrance. Discovered in January by the Mount Lemmon Survey in Arizona, it's what astronomers call a long-period comet — meaning it won't be back for more than a thousand years. This ancient traveller has been journeying silently through space for centuries, its surface frozen solid until the Sun's warmth began to wake it up. As Lemmon drew closer, the ice began to boil off into glowing gases, forming a greenish coma and a long, elegant tail. By the time it reaches its closest point to Earth on October 21, it could shine bright enough for binoculars or even the naked eye under dark skies.
Hot on its trail comes Comet SWAN, discovered only in September through the Solar and Heliospheric Observatory's SWAN instrument — a robotic eye that constantly scans for bright new arrivals near the Sun. Its appearance caught astronomers off guard, brightening quickly and racing toward the inner Solar System. Around October 19 or 20, SWAN makes its closest pass to Earth, sweeping by about 39 million kilometers away — close by cosmic standards. Like Lemmon, it's another icy interloper with an orbit so stretched it may never return again.
To have two comets in the same month is a rare delight. On crisp October evenings, skywatchers may spot them both — faint, misty glows with tails that stretch like luminous brushstrokes across the stars. The timing is perfect too: the Orionid meteor shower, born from Halley's Comet, is also peaking. It's as if the universe decided to turn on all the lights at once.
Each comet carries a story older than humankind itself. They come from the Oort Cloud, a shell of icy relics left over from the Solar System's formation, orbiting far beyond Pluto. Every so often, gravitational nudges send one hurtling inward. As they near the Sun, their frozen hearts awaken, shedding material that forms the brilliant tails we see. But the closer they come, the more fragile they become — some survive; others simply crumble and vanish.
What will happen to Lemmon and SWAN? No one knows for sure. They might flare into brilliance or fade without warning. They might break apart, leaving ghostly trails behind. But while they last, they remind us how dynamic and alive our Solar System really is.
So, if you find yourself outside on a clear night this month, take a moment to look up. Somewhere above you, two ancient visitors are sharing the same patch of sky for the first — and perhaps the last — time. Their journey has taken them billions of kilometers through the darkness, only to dazzle us briefly before disappearing once more into the cosmic cold. A fleeting dance of ice and light — a reminder that even the oldest wanderers can still find their way home, if only for a moment.
Why can't we feel the Earth moving?

Right now, you're hurtling through space at breakneck speed — though you'd never guess it sitting calmly in your chair. You, your coffee mug, the dog, the clouds outside — all of it is racing through the cosmos aboard a spinning, orbiting rock that never slows down and never stops. You're a passenger on a planet in constant motion, yet you feel... absolutely nothing. How can that be?
Let's start with the basics: Earth is a restless traveler. It spins on its axis once every 24 hours — a dizzying 1,000 miles an hour at the equator — like a cosmic top twirling through the void. That's fast enough to fling a jet halfway across a continent in less than an hour, yet here we are, sipping tea and scrolling through our phones, blissfully unaware that we're rotating at all.
But that's not all. While Earth spins, it's also hurtling around the Sun at an even wilder pace — about 67,000 miles per hour (107,000 km/h). That's 30 times faster than a bullet. In the time it takes you to read this sentence, you've traveled several dozen kilometers through space. And yet, nothing rattles. No bumps, no swoops, no sense of motion at all.
Why? Because the Earth's motion is smooth — beautifully, perfectly smooth. Like an airplane cruising at altitude, everything inside moves along with it. When you walk down the aisle of a jet flying 800 km/h, you don't feel its speed because you, your seat, and even your sandwich are all moving at exactly the same rate. It's only when the pilot banks sharply or hits turbulence that your body takes notice. Earth, thankfully, doesn't lurch or brake; it glides through space with exquisite steadiness, and we glide with it.
Still, it's strange, isn't it? We're spinning and orbiting at thousands of kilometers per hour, yet the world feels utterly still. Part of that illusion comes from scale. We're tiny creatures crawling across an enormous ball — nearly 13,000 kilometers wide — so the motion, from our perspective, seems gentle. Imagine an ant walking on a beach ball the size of a small planet. To the ant, everything feels flat and calm. The "ball" could spin slowly or swiftly, and it would never know the difference.
Another part of the illusion is our lack of reference points. When you're driving down a highway, trees and signs whip past, giving you a sense of motion. But in space, the stars are so far away they appear frozen in place, like wallpaper on the inside of a cosmic dome. Without anything nearby to measure against, our senses are fooled into thinking we're stationary — when in truth, we're rocketing through the universe on an invisible racetrack.
And then there's gravity — the glue that keeps us anchored. Without it, we really would be flung off into the blackness like confetti from a spinning wheel. Gravity pulls everything — oceans, buildings, and people — toward Earth's center. It's the planet's silent embrace, keeping us tethered as we whirl through space.
Yet, we know Earth is moving. Humans figured it out long before spaceflight, simply by watching the heavens. The rising and setting of the Sun, the changing seasons, the slow drift of stars across the night sky — all of it betrays the truth. The Sun doesn't circle us; we're the ones doing the spinning and the orbiting. If Earth stood still, half the planet would live in endless day and the other in eternal night.
Even the stars themselves give us away. As Earth travels around the Sun, the constellations subtly shift — Orion in summer, Scorpio in winter. Our perspective changes with our orbit, like looking out different windows on a moving train.
And the motion doesn't stop there. The Sun, too, is in motion — spinning on its axis and dragging the entire solar system along as it races around the center of the Milky Way at hundreds of thousands of miles per hour. Galaxies themselves drift, collide, and stretch across space. Nothing, anywhere, stands still.
So here we are — tiny, unshaken passengers on a cosmic carousel spinning through the dark. We don't feel it, can't sense it, but it's happening every moment of our lives. Maybe that's the real magic of existence: we're part of a vast, moving universe that hums so smoothly, we mistake its incredible motion for stillness. Next time you look up at the stars, remember — you're not just watching the universe. You're flying through it.
Five of the biggest cosmic head-scratchers that still leave astronomers blinking at the sky in wonder

• 1. What is Dark Matter, really?
We know it's there — invisible stuff that makes up most of the universe's mass — but we can't see it, touch it, or bottle it up in a lab. Galaxies spin the way they do because of it, yet it never glows, never reflects light, and completely ignores our telescopes. It's like the universe's secret ingredient — and no one knows the recipe!
• 2. What's powering Dark Energy?
As if one cosmic mystery wasn't enough, the universe itself is expanding faster and faster, like it's got rocket boosters attached. Whatever's pushing it apart, we call it dark energy. But we don't know what it is — a new force of nature? A flaw in our physics? Or something stranger still? It's as if space itself is stretching and grinning at us, saying, "Guess what I'm made of!"
• 3. Are we alone in the universe?
We've scanned skies, listened for signals, and sent probes flying through the solar system — but still no clear sign of alien life. With billions of galaxies, each holding billions of stars and planets, it feels impossible that we're the only ones. Yet, so far… silence. Maybe they're out there but just ignoring us — or maybe we're the first to wake up in a very quiet cosmic neighborhood.
• 4. What happened before the Big Bang?
The universe began 13.8 billion years ago — boom! But what came before that? Did time even exist? Was there another universe before ours? The question ties physicists in knots because our laws of physics simply break down at that moment. It's the ultimate cosmic cliffhanger — the prequel no one can quite write.
• 5. Why do black holes break the rules?
Black holes are the universe's rebels — gravity so strong that not even light escapes. But here's the puzzle: when something falls in, where does all its information go? According to physics, it can't just disappear… yet black holes seem to make it vanish. Even Stephen Hawking lost sleep over that one. They're cosmic mysteries wrapped in dark gravity, and they just don't play fair.
Musk's Vision: Mars by 2055

Speaking at the All-In Summit on September 9, Musk declared: "I think it can be done in 30 years," provided that we manage an exponential increase in the tonnage sent to Mars with each successive launch window — those windows when Earth and Mars align optimally for transit, roughly every 26 months. Space+2BOSS Publishing+2
His plan hinges heavily on Starship, SpaceX's next-generation, fully reusable rocket system. Musk envisions that over time, Starship launches will carry not just colonists, but all of the infrastructure — habitat modules, fuel production plants, food systems, robotics and manufacturing capability — needed for Mars to support itself without constant help from Earth. Space+2BOSS Publishing+2
He sees achieving "planetary redundancy" — the idea that human civilization would no longer be confined to a single planet — as key to mitigating the risk of a catastrophic event on Earth. The Independent+1
Where the Challenges Lie
Musk's vision is audacious — but it also invites skepticism. On the technical, economic, and human fronts, the hurdles are steep:
-
Launch scale and cost: To build a functioning colony, vast quantities of material must be ferried to Mars. Scaling up launch numbers and reducing cost per kilogram is nontrivial. Space+2Wikipedia+2
-
Rocket reliability: Achieving full reusability — especially for deep-space travel — demands perfected heat shields, robust engines, and minimal maintenance downtime. BOSS Publishing+2Space+2
-
In-situ resource utilization (ISRU): A colony must produce its own water, oxygen, fuel and building materials using Martian resources — not merely import everything from Earth. Space+2BOSS Publishing+2
-
Human health and habitability: Radiation exposure, low gravity, dust, extreme temperatures—all pose serious long-term risks to human health and engineering systems.
-
Governance, economics, and ethics: Who funds the colony? Who governs it? How do you scale industry and society in an alien environment?
So, you've been bitten by the astronomy bug. Maybe you've seen Saturn's rings through a friend's scope or spotted the Moon rising like a silver coin over the trees and thought, "I want a closer look." But then reality hits—you start browsing prices and realise a decent telescope can set you back the better part of a grand. That's when the little light bulb goes off: what about buying second-hand? Smart move. Buying a pre-loved telescope can be one of the best ways to step into astronomy without burning a hole in your wallet.
A good telescope doesn't wear out with age. Quality optics from ten years ago will easily outperform a cheap new one. Many amateurs upgrade and sell perfectly fine scopes at great prices, making used gear a sensible way to start stargazing.
Where to Look
Check astronomy clubs, local buy-swap-sell sites, or online forums. Club members often know the gear's history and will give honest advice—something you won't get from random sellers.
What to Check
Make sure all parts are included: mount, tripod, finder, and eyepieces. Inspect lenses or mirrors for cracks or fungus (a bit of dust is fine). Test the mount—it should move smoothly and lock firmly. Reflectors may need minor alignment (collimation), which is easy to learn.
What You'll Pay
An 8-inch Dobsonian that costs $900 new might be found used for half that. Smaller refractors often go for a few hundred dollars. You'll likely get extras like eyepieces or filters thrown in, adding more value.
Why It's Worth It
Used scopes often come from careful owners who've already fine-tuned them. You're getting proven, quality equipment without the beginner frustration—or the high price.
In short, a well-chosen second-hand telescope can open the same wonders of the night sky—Saturn's rings, lunar craters, glowing nebulae—for far less money. It's the best way to start your journey among the stars.
Astrophysicist Adam Becker, among others, has dismissed Mars colonization as a "dangerous illusion," arguing the challenges are far greater than popular discourse imagines. The Times of India
Is 2055 Realistic?
Musk's 2055 timeline is ambitious even by space-enthusiast standards. While the interval isn't impossibly long (in cosmic terms), it leaves little room for major setbacks. If Starship development or large-scale launch cadence falters, the schedule could slip dramatically.
That said, Musk has a history of pushing expectations forward, often provoking debate and accelerating investment in space infrastructure. Whether or not Mars is colonized by 2055, his projection has already sharpened the conversation about humanity's next horizon. If you like, I can also write a version of this aimed for a science magazine or for general readership — which tone would you prefer?
Have Scientists Really Detected a Signal from a Parallel Universe?

It sounds like the plot of a late-night sci-fi movie: scientists in Antarctica pick up an odd signal that seems to come from the wrong direction—not from deep space, but upward, through the Earth itself. Some researchers have quietly suggested it could be evidence of something extraordinary: a parallel universe existing alongside our own.
If true, it would rewrite everything we know about physics and reality.
The idea of multiple universes—known as the multiverse theory—has long been a staple of cosmology and imagination alike. It suggests our universe may be just one bubble in a vast cosmic foam, each bubble with its own laws of physics, histories, and perhaps even versions of ourselves living out different lives. For decades, it's been more philosophy than science—until hints like this appeared.
So, what's really going on?
Back in 2020, researchers using NASA's Antarctic Impulsive Transient Antenna (ANITA) detected unusual cosmic ray signals emerging upward from the ice. Normally, high-energy cosmic particles come down from space. These didn't fit known patterns, leading some scientists to wonder: could they be the fingerprints of a parallel universe, where time runs backwards relative to ours?
Most physicists say that's a stretch. They suspect more mundane explanations—perhaps a previously unknown type of neutrino, or a quirk of the Antarctic ice affecting the readings. Others point to the tantalizing possibility that we're glimpsing physics beyond the Standard Model, perhaps even the faint whisper of another reality brushing against ours.
Still, the "what if" refuses to die.
What if there really are other universes layered around us like pages in a cosmic book? What if, just occasionally, energy or information leaks between them—little flashes that our instruments mistake for noise? Could we someday learn to send a signal through that invisible barrier? And, more provocatively, could we go there ourselves?
Such a discovery wouldn't just expand our scientific horizons; it would challenge everything we think we know about existence. Imagine universes where gravity behaves differently, where light moves at another speed, or where life evolved along unrecognizable paths. There might be versions of Earth where history turned out entirely differently—where dinosaurs never died out, or humans never evolved.
If signals can cross the divide, could energy flow as well? That's a wild thought. Power drawn from a parallel universe might make our own energy struggles look trivial. But it could also raise ethical questions: would tapping into another cosmos disturb its balance—or ours?
For now, the evidence is far from conclusive. The "signal from another universe" remains a mystery, intriguing but unproven. Yet it stirs something fundamental in us—the urge to explore, to push at the boundaries of what's possible. Maybe the universe we know is only the opening verse of a much grander symphony—one whose full melody we've only just begun to hear.
NASA's Webb Telescope Spots a Moon-Making Factory Around a Giant Planet

Move over, Hollywood science fiction — NASA's James Webb Space Telescope has just spotted something straight out of a cosmic blockbuster. Astronomers have found a massive planet surrounded by a swirling disk of gas and dust — a kind of galactic construction zone — where moons may be forming right now.
It's a discovery that gives scientists a front-row seat to one of the most fascinating processes in the universe: the birth of moons.
The planet in question, known as PDS 70c, orbits a young star about 370 light-years away in the constellation Centaurus. The star itself is just 5 million years old — a baby, by cosmic standards. It's part of a two-planet system that has become one of Webb's favorite targets. Why? Because it offers an almost perfect laboratory for watching planets — and now moons — in the making.
The Webb Telescope, with its incredible infrared eyes, can peer through clouds of dust that hide these distant worlds from ordinary telescopes. And when scientists pointed it toward PDS 70c, they saw something remarkable: a circumplanetary disk, a giant halo of material orbiting the planet. This is the same kind of disk that once surrounded Jupiter before its own four big moons — Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto — were born.
What Webb saw confirms what astronomers have long suspected but never actually witnessed so clearly — that large planets don't form alone. They bring their own "moon nurseries" with them.
The PDS 70 system is particularly intriguing because the planet is roughly the same size as Jupiter, but the disk encircling it is enormous — large enough, scientists say, to create up to three moons the size of ours. The Webb Telescope detected specific light signatures that reveal the composition of the disk — mostly hydrogen gas and fine dust grains, the raw ingredients for building celestial bodies.
This is not the first time the PDS 70 system has made headlines. A few years ago, the Atacama Large Millimeter/submillimeter Array (ALMA) in Chile first hinted at a dusty ring around the planet. But Webb's sharper vision has now confirmed the disk's structure in far greater detail, revealing its temperature and chemical makeup — vital clues to how moons might form in such environments.
What makes this discovery so exciting is what it tells us about our own solar system's past. Billions of years ago, when Jupiter and Saturn were forming, they too were surrounded by similar disks. Moons likely formed within those dusty rings before the Sun's growing heat and the planets' gravity scattered the leftover material into space.
In other words, Webb has given us a snapshot of our own cosmic childhood — a glimpse of how the Moon's distant cousins might be forming in another corner of the galaxy.
And this is just the beginning. Scientists believe there could be many such moon-forming disks out there, waiting to be found. Webb's unmatched sensitivity will let astronomers identify more of them and watch as these newborn worlds evolve over time.
In a sense, NASA's telescope isn't just looking into space — it's looking back in time, showing us how the intricate dance between stars, planets, and moons unfolds over millions of years.
So the next time you gaze at our Moon on a clear night, remember this: far beyond our sky, another moon may be rising right now around a distant world, captured by the Webb Telescope's golden mirrors — proof that the universe is still hard at work, crafting new worlds in its endless workshop.
Saturn's moon Enceladus is shooting out organic molecules that could help create life

Far beyond Earth, in the frozen reaches of our Solar System, one of Saturn's tiny moons is putting on quite a show. Enceladus—just 500 kilometers across—has become one of the most talked-about worlds in modern astronomy. Why? Because it's literally spraying clues to life into space.
Scientists discovered that Enceladus is blasting plumes of water vapor, ice, and organic molecules from cracks near its south pole. These icy geysers shoot hundreds of kilometers into space, so powerful that some of the material even escapes the moon's weak gravity to form part of Saturn's shimmering rings.
What makes this discovery so exciting is what's inside those plumes. NASA's Cassini spacecraft flew through them several times before its mission ended in 2017, collecting samples. The readings revealed not just water, but methane, ammonia, and complex organic compounds—the same building blocks found on Earth before life began.
Beneath Enceladus's icy crust lies a global ocean kept warm by the moon's internal heat—caused by Saturn's gravity flexing and squeezing it like a stress ball. On Earth, deep under our oceans, similar hydrothermal vents teem with bacteria and strange creatures that live entirely without sunlight. If such life can exist here, why not there?
Enceladus, once just another speck in Saturn's entourage, is now a serious contender in the search for life beyond Earth. Future missions aim to fly through those plumes again, this time with instruments able to "sniff" for direct signs of living organisms. Imagine that—proof of life from an icy moon half a billion miles away, freely blowing into space for us to catch.
In a way, Enceladus is doing the hard work for us—sending samples straight into space like an interplanetary message in a bottle. And if that message turns out to say "we're not alone," it would change everything we know about life in the universe. Small world. Big mystery. And maybe, just maybe, a hint that life's recipe isn't unique to Earth after all.
Our Moon's Two Faces – Stranger Than We Ever Imagined

For centuries, we've looked up at the Moon and thought we knew her pretty well. She's been our faithful companion in the night sky, lighting our way and inspiring poets, dreamers, and astronauts alike. But it turns out, the Moon has been keeping a rather big secret. Recent research has revealed that the two sides of the Moon — the familiar face we see every night and the mysterious far side that always looks away — are far more different than anyone ever imagined.
The story begins with a handful of rocks. Not just any rocks, but lunar samples collected from various missions, including NASA's Apollo landings and China's Chang'e program. When scientists recently compared their chemical fingerprints, they found something astonishing: the near side and the far side of the Moon seem to have been shaped by completely different histories.
The side we see — the near side — is dotted with huge, dark plains called maria (Latin for "seas"). These are ancient lava flows that cooled billions of years ago, giving the Moon that familiar "man in the moon" face. But the far side? It's rugged, mountainous, and far older, scarred with craters from countless impacts. It looks like the Moon that time forgot.
The new findings suggest that the near side has much higher concentrations of radioactive elements like potassium, thorium, and uranium. These would have generated more internal heat early in the Moon's history, melting rock and creating vast seas of lava. The far side, on the other hand, remained cooler and never experienced that same level of volcanic activity. In other words, the Moon's two halves cooked at different temperatures — one side hot and restless, the other cold and ancient.
So how did this happen? One leading theory suggests that a massive impact shortly after the Moon's formation — about 4.5 billion years ago — could have shifted its internal balance. Another possibility is that the crust on the far side was simply thicker, trapping heat on one side and locking the other in a geological deep freeze. Either way, it paints a picture of a lopsided world, frozen in time, that's still keeping half its story hidden from view.
And here's where it gets exciting. If the Moon's two faces are so different, it may change how we think about the Moon's origin — and by extension, how we think about Earth's early days. The Moon is, after all, our cosmic twin, born from the same fiery collision that shaped our young planet. By studying its contrasting faces, scientists can read the record of those violent beginnings like a history book written in stone.
But the discoveries don't stop there. The far side of the Moon — that silent, radio-free wilderness — could soon become humanity's next great scientific outpost. Because it's shielded from Earth's radio noise, astronomers dream of building observatories there to study the early universe, detecting faint signals from the first stars and galaxies. Others imagine future moon bases tucked away in its shadowed craters, where water ice may lie preserved — a priceless resource for astronauts and future lunar settlers.
The Moon, it seems, still has plenty of secrets left to tell. Every time we think we've figured it out, it surprises us again — like an old friend who suddenly reveals a hidden past. The samples and data being studied today are rewriting the Moon's biography, chapter by chapter.
So next time you look up at that glowing disc in the sky, remember: you're only seeing one side of the story. The other half is darker, stranger, and possibly even more fascinating. The Moon is not just a rock — it's a world of two very different faces, each whispering clues about where we came from and where we might be headed next.
The more we learn, the more the Moon reminds us that even the things we think we know best can still hold mysteries beyond imagination.
We've officially found 6,000 exoplanets, NASA says

NASA has announced a remarkable milestone: astronomers have now confirmed more than 6,000 exoplanets, worlds orbiting stars beyond our Sun. It's more than just a number. This is a turning point in humanity's search for other worlds, and as NASA put it, "the next great chapter of exploration" has begun.
The idea of planets circling distant stars was once pure speculation. That changed in the 1990s, when the first detections came through, some even orbiting pulsars — not exactly the places we'd expect to find Earth-like conditions. In 1995, 51 Pegasi b was discovered around a Sun-like star, proving that planetary systems like our own were not unique. At first, progress was slow, but over the past two decades better telescopes and clever detection methods triggered an explosion of discoveries. The Kepler Space Telescope alone revealed thousands, and its successor, TESS, continues the hunt.
Reaching 6,000 confirmed planets is significant because the sheer number reveals the astonishing diversity of planetary systems. Among them are gas giants, many orbiting perilously close to their stars; Neptune-sized worlds; super-Earths larger than our own planet but smaller than Neptune; rocky terrestrial planets; and even strange types that don't fit neatly into categories. With so many examples, astronomers can now ask deeper questions: which types of planets are most common, how do systems form, and how many might be capable of hosting life?
The shift now is from discovery to detail. Finding planets was only the first step. Today, telescopes such as the James Webb Space Telescope are analyzing atmospheres, looking for gases like carbon dioxide, methane, or even water vapor. This kind of study could one day reveal the fingerprints of biology. So far, most of what we've learned is that planets are more varied than anyone expected. Some are scorched worlds where it rains molten iron; others are puffy giants less dense than Styrofoam. But the most exciting quarry — a true Earth twin — remains out of reach.
That's because detecting small, temperate planets is extremely hard. Most exoplanets are found indirectly, when they pass in front of their stars or tug slightly on their motion. These methods are biased toward large planets close to their stars. Directly imaging Earth-like planets is much tougher: their faint light is drowned out by the glare of the stars they orbit. Despite thousands of candidates, astronomers still haven't confirmed a planet exactly like Earth, in the right orbit with the right atmosphere.
New technology is on the way. The Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope, launching later this decade, will search for planets using microlensing and test new starlight-blocking instruments. Even more ambitious is the proposed Habitable Worlds Observatory, designed to image Earth-sized planets directly and analyze their atmospheres. Missions from Europe, such as PLATO and ARIEL, will add to the effort. Together, they represent the next phase: not just counting planets, but probing their nature.
The implications go far beyond astronomy. Humanity has long asked, "Are we alone?" With thousands of planets now on the books, the question is shifting toward "Where might life be, and how will we find it?" The vast census of worlds provides the raw data needed to make meaningful estimates about habitability. Statistically, it seems likely that many stars have rocky planets in the so-called habitable zone. Whether those worlds actually host life remains the great unknown.
Philosophically, the discovery of so many alien worlds reshapes our place in the universe. The Milky Way is no longer just a backdrop for Earth; it is a galaxy alive with planetary systems, some bizarre, some strangely familiar. The idea that Earth is one special, solitary oasis is becoming harder to defend, even if our precise conditions remain rare. Each new discovery stretches the imagination and reminds us how diverse nature can be.
Crossing the 6,000 mark is not a finish line but a gateway. The first chapter of exoplanet science asked, "Are there other planets?" That question has been answered with a resounding yes. The new chapter asks, "What are they like, and could any of them harbor life?" As NASA suggests, the real odyssey is only beginning.
Russia's 'Noah's Ark' in Space: Mice, Flies Then Back to Earth

When most people think of space travel, they imagine astronauts in bulky suits floating around the International Space Station. But every so often, the heroes of a mission are not human at all. Recently, Russia made headlines by launching a satellite carrying an unusual crew: 75 mice and 1,500 flies. Dubbed the country's own "Noah's Ark," this spacecraft has now landed safely back on Earth, bringing with it a wealth of scientific data.
So why send so many little creatures into space? The answer lies in one big question: how does life cope with the harsh environment beyond our planet? For decades, scientists have relied on animals to help unlock the secrets of space travel. In fact, long before Yuri Gagarin became the first human in orbit in 1961, animals like Laika the dog, fruit flies, and even monkeys paved the way. They tested the unknown, often at great cost, to make sure humans could one day follow.
This latest Russian mission was no different. The mice and flies spent weeks circling the Earth in weightlessness, living in a carefully controlled satellite that acted like a mini-laboratory. Inside, the animals were monitored for changes in their bodies—how their bones, muscles, and immune systems responded to a world without gravity. Scientists were also keen to study reproduction, development, and aging in space, topics that are critical if humanity ever wants to live on the Moon or Mars.
Why flies? As strange as it sounds, fruit flies are some of science's most reliable test pilots. They reproduce quickly, their genes are well understood, and they respond to space conditions in ways that can be compared to human biology. Add to that the resilience of mice, whose body systems resemble ours more closely, and you have a powerful mix of data. Together, these animals provide clues that no laboratory on Earth can offer.
The mission's nickname, "Noah's Ark," is fitting. Just like the ancient tale of a boat carrying animals to safety, this satellite carried a diverse sample of life forms through the void of space. The difference is that instead of surviving a great flood, these creatures endured cosmic radiation, microgravity, and weeks away from the blue skies of Earth.
When the capsule finally touched down, Russian scientists wasted no time in collecting the precious cargo. Each mouse and fly was studied carefully, both for immediate effects and for long-term changes that might show up later. Early reports suggest that the mission was a success, though not all of the tiny astronauts survived the trip—a reminder that space is as dangerous as it is fascinating.
What does this mean for us here on Earth? The results from experiments like these feed directly into plans for the future of space travel. If humans are to embark on long missions—say, to Mars in the 2030s—we need to understand everything from how our bodies might weaken in low gravity to whether future space settlers could grow food and sustain life far from home. The Russian "Noah's Ark" is one more step toward solving those puzzles.
In a way, these mice and flies are pioneers. They may not wear helmets or plant flags, but their contribution to science is no less significant. By helping us test the limits of biology in space, they ensure that when humans finally push further into the cosmos, we'll be going with the knowledge of what it takes to survive.
So the next time you hear about astronauts launching into orbit, remember the small, unsung passengers who share their journeys. They might not give press conferences or wave from space capsules, but without them, the dream of human exploration beyond Earth would be far more uncertain.
The Young Woman Who Wants to Be First on Mars

Imagine being 23 years old and already training to make history—not as a pop star, not as a billionaire influencer, but as a pioneer destined for another world. Meet Alyssa Carson, the American space enthusiast who has devoted her life to one extraordinary goal: becoming one of the first humans to set foot on Mars.
From the time she was a child, Alyssa wasn't doodling fairies in her notebooks—she was drawing rockets and planets. She enrolled in space camps, programs, and academies before most kids her age were thinking about their driver's license. By her teenage years, she was already involved in serious astronaut simulations, including work with the Advanced PoSSUM Space Academy, a program focused on suborbital spaceflight research. To say she's committed would be an understatement.
Now, at 23, Alyssa is attracting global attention as she edges closer to what was once only the stuff of science fiction. NASA, alongside other space agencies and private partners, has laid the groundwork for human missions to Mars within the next two decades. And Alyssa, with her years of training, education, and pure determination, could very well be among the first to take the ride.
But here's where the story shifts from impressive to jaw-dropping. While no official mission plan requires it, Alyssa has openly said she would accept the possibility of not coming back. Yes, you read that right. Imagine stepping onto Mars with the knowledge that returning home might not be an option—not for years, maybe not at all. It's a chilling thought to most of us, but for Alyssa, it's part of the price of progress. Her vision reflects the bold, unshakable spirit of exploration that pushed humans across oceans, onto mountaintops, and eventually to the Moon.
So when will it happen? The timetable for Mars exploration is ambitious, with NASA's Artemis missions currently aiming to return humans to the Moon in the next few years as a stepping stone to Mars. Realistically, a crewed mission to the Red Planet could happen in the 2030s. That's less than two decades away—close enough for Alyssa, and maybe even for you and me, to watch live as history unfolds.
Think about it: the first human boot print in Martian dust. A new world rising on our screens. A young woman, who once dreamed of space in her bedroom, taking the first steps for humanity. It's the kind of moment that will make us all pause, cheer, and perhaps even shed a tear.
Would you go? That's the question Alyssa forces us to ask ourselves. Could you leave behind Earth, its blue skies and oceans, its familiar comforts, for a chance to live on a barren red desert under alien stars? Most of us would hesitate. But pioneers like Alyssa don't hesitate—they leap. They remind us that progress comes not from playing it safe, but from daring to take risks that redefine what it means to be human.
Alyssa Carson's story isn't just about one young woman chasing her dream. It's about all of us, standing on the edge of a new chapter in exploration. Mars is waiting. And thanks to people like Alyssa, humanity is closer than ever to knocking on its door.

"We Are Ready" NASA's Artemis II Crew Prepares for Historic Moon Mission
More than half a century has passed since humans last left Earth's orbit and journeyed toward the Moon. Now, NASA is preparing to send astronauts back on a mission that will pave the way for humanity's next giant leap. The crew of Artemis II has been training for years, and they say with confidence: "We are ready for every scenario."
Artemis II will be the first crewed mission of NASA's new Artemis program. While it won't land on the Moon, it will take four astronauts farther from Earth than anyone has traveled since Apollo 17 in 1972. The mission is designed to test NASA's powerful Space Launch System rocket and the Orion spacecraft with real people on board, making sure all systems are safe before the next step—actually landing astronauts on the lunar surface with Artemis III.
The crew itself is historic. Commander Reid Wiseman, pilot Victor Glover, mission specialist Christina Koch, and Canadian astronaut Jeremy Hansen will make up the team. This mission will feature the first woman, the first person of color, and the first non-American to travel on a lunar mission. Their flight will be more than just a technical test—it will be a powerful symbol of how space exploration has grown to represent all of humanity.
Training for a lunar mission is no small task. The Artemis II crew has been through countless hours of simulations, practicing everything from normal operations to emergencies. They've trained in spacecraft mock-ups, survival gear, and even water recovery drills, since their capsule will splash down in the Pacific Ocean at the end of the mission. As Koch put it, the goal is to "practice until it feels routine," because in space, routine means safety.
The Orion spacecraft will carry the crew on a ten-day journey, flying in a wide loop around the Moon before returning to Earth. While they won't land, their path will allow them to test navigation, communication, and life-support systems in deep space. These are the critical steps needed before astronauts can safely return to the Moon's surface in future missions.
The phrase "ready for every scenario" reflects the way NASA prepares for the unknown. Space is unpredictable—equipment can fail, communication can drop, or unexpected problems can arise. By rehearsing every possible situation on the ground, the crew ensures that if something goes wrong, their reactions will be instinctive.
For NASA, Artemis II is about more than just engineering. It's about proving that the world is ready to go back to the Moon, this time to stay. The Artemis program aims to build a long-term presence on and around the Moon, including a small space station in lunar orbit called the Gateway. These missions will also serve as stepping stones for future journeys to Mars.
When the rocket finally lifts off, it will carry not just four astronauts but also the hopes of a new generation. For today's young people, who never saw Apollo, Artemis II will be their first chance to watch humans head toward the Moon in real time.
In the words of Commander Wiseman, "We are part of something much bigger than ourselves." That spirit echoes the Apollo era, but with a modern twist: Artemis is not just an American mission—it's an international effort to push human boundaries farther than ever before.
As the countdown draws closer, one thing is clear: the Artemis II crew is ready. Ready to test a new spacecraft, ready to face the unknown, and ready to take humanity back to the Moon.
NASA Hints at Ancient Life on Mars

The world stopped breathing for a moment this morning. At a packed press conference, NASA scientists revealed what many had long suspected but never dared to fully believe: strong indications suggest that Mars once harbored life.
The announcement came after years of silent whispers in the scientific community, years of cryptic clues left buried in Martian soil, etched in ancient riverbeds, and written across the planet's barren landscape. Now, for the first time, humanity stands on the brink of answering the question that has haunted us since the first telescope glimpsed the Red Planet: Were we ever alone?
The evidence is compelling. Robotic explorers—silent pioneers crawling across deserts of red dust—have uncovered chemical signatures that point to biological processes. Ancient sediments reveal carbon compounds that shouldn't exist without life's touch. Microscopic structures, astonishingly similar to fossilized microbes on Earth, have been detected in rocks dated billions of years old.
"Mars wasn't always the cold, dry wasteland we see today," declared Dr. Elena Reyes, the mission's lead astrobiologist, her voice trembling with excitement. "We are looking at a planet that once had flowing rivers, vast lakes, and possibly even an ocean. It had the right conditions. And now, the evidence tells us—it may have had life."
The revelation is not simply scientific—it is seismic. Religious leaders, philosophers, and dreamers everywhere are now grappling with the implications. If life sparked once beyond Earth, then the universe might be teeming with it. Somewhere, among the stars, other civilizations could be waiting, or watching.
The drama is heightened by a paradox: Mars may have been more Earth-like before Earth itself was ready for life. Billions of years ago, as Earth was still a violent ball of chaos, Mars basked in a gentle climate, its rivers flowing under a faint golden sun. Perhaps life began there first. Perhaps, in some unimaginable twist, Earth's own spark came from a Martian seed carried across space by meteorites. Could we, in some deep and hidden way, be children of Mars?
As the news spreads, people pour into observatories, point telescopes toward the red dot in the night sky, and whisper about what lies ahead. Some call for urgent manned missions to uncover the truth with human eyes and hands. Others warn that unearthing Martian life—past or present—may bring dangers we cannot yet imagine.
NASA, for now, remains cautious. "We do not yet have living organisms," said Dr. Reyes. "But what we do have are ancient fingerprints—traces that strongly suggest Mars was once alive. Our next missions will be to confirm, and perhaps… to meet our planetary ancestors."
The announcement will be remembered as one of the greatest turning points in human history. The day humanity learned that Earth was not the sole cradle of life. The day we realized that in the vast silence of space, another world once whispered with its own breath. And somewhere out there, in the cold dust of Mars, the echoes of that life may still linger—waiting for us to find them.
Building Blocks of Life Found Around a Distant Star

Astronomers have uncovered fresh evidence that the essential ingredients for life may be far more common in the universe than previously imagined. A new study reports the discovery of complex organic molecules—the same kinds of compounds that form the chemical foundation for life on Earth—orbiting a young protostar many light-years away.
The star in question is V883 Orionis, a baby star surrounded by a vast disk of dust and gas, where planets are slowly taking shape. Using high-powered telescopes, scientists detected a variety of complex carbon-based molecules within this planet-forming disk. These compounds include precursors to amino acids, which are the basic building blocks of proteins, and sugars, which form part of DNA.
The finding suggests that the seeds of life aren't limited to Earth, or even to our solar system. Instead, they may be a natural byproduct of star and planet formation itself. If these life-friendly molecules are forming so early, before planets even fully emerge, it raises the possibility that the universe is teeming with worlds carrying the same raw ingredients that made life possible here.
On Earth, life began once simple organic molecules came together under the right conditions—likely in warm little ponds or deep-sea vents—sparking the first primitive cells. The discovery around V883 Orionis shows that these chemical starting points can assemble in space long before a planet's surface forms. When new planets eventually solidify within such disks, they could inherit these compounds, giving them a head start toward developing life.
Scientists have long debated whether Earth was special or whether life's recipe is written into the cosmos itself. This discovery strengthens the argument for the latter. If protostars across the galaxy are mixing up the same chemical soup, then life may not be an Earth-only phenomenon but a universal trend, waiting for the right conditions to flourish.
The observation doesn't mean life exists elsewhere—at least not yet. But it does highlight that the universe appears better stocked with life's precursors than scientists once assumed. With missions like the James Webb Space Telescope already peering into distant star systems, and future probes planned to explore the icy moons of our solar system, the search for life beyond Earth has never looked more promising.
As one researcher put it, discoveries like these make it harder and harder to see Earth as a cosmic exception. Instead, we may simply be part of a much larger, universal story of life unfolding in countless places across the stars.

**Leave a message or comments on this website Email me directly : www.davereneke@gmail.com
NB/ Please Include Your Name and Email address If You Require An Answer.
'ASTRO DAVE' RENEKE - A Personal Perspective

I've often been asked what I do, where I've been and what sort of activities I've engaged in throughout my 50 years involvement in astronomy and space. Here is an interview i did with Delving with Des Kennedy on Rhema 99.9 recently.
David Reneke, a highly regarded Australian amateur astronomer and lecturer with over 50 years of experience, has established himself as a prominent figure in the field of astronomy. With affiliations to leading global astronomical institutions,
David serves as the Editor for Australia's Astro-Space News Magazine and has previously held key editorial roles with Sky & Space Magazine and Australasian Science magazine.
His extensive background includes teaching astronomy at the college level, being a featured speaker at astronomy conventions across Australia, and contributing as a science correspondent for both ABC and commercial radio stations. David's weekly radio interviews, reaching around 3 million listeners, cover the latest developments in astronomy and space exploration.
As a media personality, David's presence extends to regional, national, and international TV, with appearances on prominent platforms such as Good Morning America, American MSNBC news, the BBC, and Sky News in Australia. His own radio program has earned him major Australasian awards for outstanding service.
David is recognized for his engaging and unique style of presenting astronomy and space discovery, having entertained and educated large audiences throughout Australia. In addition to his presentations, he produces educational materials for beginners and runs a popular radio program in Hastings, NSW, with a substantial following and multiple awards for his radio presentations.
In 2004, David initiated the 'Astronomy Outreach' program, touring primary and secondary schools in NSW to provide an interactive astronomy and space education experience. Sponsored by Tasco Australia, Austar, and Discovery Science channel, the program donated telescopes and grants to schools during a special tour in 2009, contributing to the promotion of astronomy education in Australia. BELOW Is the recorded interview
