HTT 2025 – Part 2: So Close to the Sun

The night was… lively. The mosquitoes had made themselves comfortable in our bus and diligently kept us from sleeping. But when the first rays of sunlight crept through the window, spirits were high again. This Saturday simply had to be better — and breakfast next to the bus, surrounded by a colorful mix of tents, RVs, and telescopes, already promised plenty of adventure.

The Herzberg Telescope Meeting really comes alive in the morning. Everywhere, people are tinkering, discussing gear, and grinning. My son and I set off to explore: The selection of telescopes is as vast as ever — from small Refractors to mighty Dobson towers. There’s so much to discover, and the good mood grows with every sunbeam.

My personal highlight waits at the edge of the field: Several fellow astronomers have set up their H-alpha telescopes — solar observation at its finest. I glance through the 50mm Lunt and am immediately captivated. Fine structures at the edge, giant prominences like flames licking into space. The sun appears vibrant, wild, incredibly close — for a moment, the universe feels less cold and distant, more like fiery life right before my eyes.

After our solar adventure, we head into the village. A quick stop at the playground, then on to the charming little church — Jessnigk feels peaceful and welcoming, as if astronomy and village life just naturally belong together. In the afternoon, we take up an invitation to tour the observatory: We climb the steps into the dome, which shines white in the dazzling sunlight. Surrounded by the equipment, there’s a sense of excitement and awe I can hardly describe — my nerdy heart skips a beat.

Evening brings back the familiar routine: flats for last night’s session, then preparations for the next round of astrophotography. Tonight’s target: the Lobster Claw and Bubble Nebulae. But the sky has other plans — more and more clouds drift in and block the view of the guide stars. The guiding repeatedly cuts out, turning into a nerve-wracking waiting game. By midnight, I’ve managed just ten five-minute exposures — not nearly enough for a solid series.

I’m torn: give up or power through? The forecast calls for more dense clouds, but I let the mount run anyway, try my luck after the meridian flip around half past midnight, and cling to hope. A last trip to the H-Alpha Bar and I'm ready for some sleep.

This time, I’m prepared: mosquito spray, closed windows, sleeping bag zipped. The night stays restless — clouds drift by outside, but thankfully, it’s quieter inside. Now I just have to hope a few exposures turned out…