oort cloud

Cosmic rays aren't rays in the usual sense: they're fast particles bombarding Earth from all directions. Mostly they're protons and atomic nuclei. Their energies vary widely, from modest to fantastically huge. When such a particle heads our way and the Moon or Sun gets in its path, it gets absorbed.

Remember the sensational comet 1I/‘Oumuamua — the first object to come to us from another star? Its hyperbolic trajectory left no doubt: it was a wanderer from the interstellar void. But astronomers wondered: could some of these visitors not be strangers at all, but our own, escaped from the Solar System millions of years ago?

In 2019, an unusual visitor, comet 3I/ATLAS, zoomed into the Solar System. It came from another star, and for the first time, astronomers were able to see what its dusty tail is made of.

The giant cloud of icy chunks on the outskirts of the Solar System, the Oort cloud, resembles a transparent bubble stretched to a light-year across. Usually, these chunks hang quietly in their distant corners, but sometimes something disturbs them. Most often, it's the tidal influence of our Galaxy.

Moments before totality, swift shadow bands glide across the ground, like ripples from pebbles tossed into water. For centuries, this phenomenon baffled scientists. It turns out the key is that light is a wave. The Sun isn't a pinpoint lamp but a vast disk. When the Moon nearly covers it, a thin glowing crescent remains.

Beyond Neptune, in the icy belt, astronomers watched as object (612533) 2002 XV93 momentarily occulted a distant star. Using метод прохождений (when a planet dims the star's light for a second, like a fly in front of a lamp), Уильям Боруки and Дэвид Шарбонно determined: the light not only dimmed but also shifted…

Imagine a dark room with dust floating in the air. A bright flashlight goes off, and the dust particles light up, revealing their positions. Astronomers have applied a similar trick to our Galaxy. The flashlights were gamma-ray bursts, the most powerful explosions in distant galaxies, and the dust particles were interstellar clouds.

The Oort Cloud is a spherical swarm of trillions of icy bodies at the very edge of the Solar System, about a light-year from the Sun. These objects are almost motionless relative to one another until some gravitational disturbance breaks their calm.

An old chest of family heirlooms opens, and inside lie jewels that were thought to be as old as great-grandmother. But suddenly it turns out: the gold was remelted, the stones were recut, and this happened much later than thought. A similar story happened to the oldest particles in meteorites — calcium-aluminum inclusions, or CAIs.

A sunspot, a dark island on the scorching surface, breathes. Every three minutes, a wave spreads from it, runs along an invisible magnetic arch, and makes the plasma above a neighboring spot flare with a radio signal. Radio telescopes caught seven such flares in a row on February 14, 2024.

For ten hours, the star HD 137010 dimmed a little, like a lamp with a speck of dust on it. The K2 telescope caught this in 2017, and in all the observing time, it happened only once. Astronomers realized: a planet had passed in front of the star. This way of finding worlds is called the transit method. When a planet crosses the star's disk, the star briefly fades.

A city at night looks quiet from above, but life bustles in its neighborhoods: streets are blocked off, construction is underway, and equipment hums in basements. That's roughly how astronomers now see the galaxy cluster SPT-CL J2215-3537, located so far away that its light has traveled for more than 8 billion years.

An ordinary lump of coal left under the blazing sun just heats up. But if you take it into space and bring it twenty times closer to the Sun than Earth is, it won't survive for more than a few minutes. That's roughly how dark, carbon-rich asteroids behave. They are rarely found on orbits that dive deep inside Mercury's orbit.

Sun-like stars rarely spin alone. Many of them dance with invisible partners — brown dwarfs: objects bigger than planets but too lightweight for steady stellar burning. In their cores, hydrogen fusion flickers, only to fade fast, never matching the stability of the Sun.

Spinning a sling, we whirl a stone. Its speed builds, and if released at the lowest point, it flies farthest. In space, the gravity of the Sun acts as the strap: the probe dives as close to the star as possible, and at the moment of maximum speed, a brief engine thrust, like a yank of the hand, gives it a huge boost.

The Sun is not just a ball — it's a magnetic mansion. Its invisible force lines, like electrical wiring, thread through space and control space weather. But until now, we've only seen this wiring from the landing — the plane of Earth's orbit. The attic and basement, the magnetic poles, remained a mystery.

Only by passing in front of a star did Chiron reveal its secret. Three icy hoops encircle the 200-kilometer body — a hybrid of comet and asteroid. Previously, they were only hinted at by spectra of reflected light and brightness fluctuations.

Astronomers couldn't understand why the 'hot Neptune desert' — a region right next to stars — has almost no Neptune-sized planets. It was thought that there they are doomed: the star's proximity boils off the atmosphere, leaving a bare rocky core. But the exoplanet LTT-9779 b, 29 times heavier than Earth and with a 19-hour orbit, survived.