Events

Venus is about to be the brightest it gets all year. On the evening of September 18, 2026, it reaches greatest brilliancy at about magnitude −4.8, outshining everything in the sky except the Sun and Moon. The catch, if you’re watching from the eastern Mediterranean like I am at 35°N, is that this is a low, quick apparition: Venus sits close to the western horizon after sunset and drops out of view inside about an hour. You don’t need any gear — it’s a naked-eye object that punches straight through city light — but you do need a clear line to the west-southwest and the discipline to be outside on time. The best single evening is September 14, when a thin crescent Moon parks within 5° of it. ...

There’s a comet in the pre-dawn sky right now that most people will never hear about, because it isn’t the kind that makes the news. Comet 220P/McNaught is a small periodic visitor that has done something unusual twice this summer: it blew up. Two separate outbursts, in late May and again on August 5, dragged a 17th-magnitude speck up into binocular range. In mid-August it was sitting around 6th to 7th magnitude, low in the constellation Cetus before sunrise: a binocular object under a dark sky, and already fading. If you want it, this is the week to try. ...

The 2026 Perseids peaked overnight on August 12–13 under a new moon, and I drove up to Troodos to catch the plateau’s rise before the sky brightened. The number first: in the darkest hour, with the radiant past 60° altitude, I counted just over 40 meteors. That’s not a storm, but it’s the most I’ve logged from a Perseid night since 2021, and the sky earned every one — no Moon, no haze, and a horizon dark enough to watch the Perseus radiant climb out of the northeast on its own. ...

The Perseids peak overnight on August 12–13, and this year the Moon stays out of the way entirely. It turns new on August 12 at 17:37 UT, so the peak night is as dark as any night gets. That combination, the richest summer shower landing on a moonless sky, is what observers wait years for, and it hasn’t happened since 2021. If you clear a single night for meteors in 2026, make it this one. Here’s when to be out, where to point your eyes, and why the eclipse dominating everyone’s calendar that same day is, for those of us in the eastern Mediterranean, the less interesting half of August 12. ...

Two meteor showers reach their peak on the night of July 30: the Southern Delta Aquariids and the Alpha Capricornids. In a good year that’s a fine reason to drive up to Troodos and lie back for a couple of hours. This is not a good year. The Buck Moon turns full on July 29 at 14:36 UT, and two nights later it’s still 96% lit and up from dusk to dawn, parked in the same corner of the southern sky the meteors come from. The plan, then: don’t waste a special trip on July 30. Learn what these two showers are, catch a few of the brighter ones in the darker nights beforehand, and save your effort for August 12, when the Moon disappears entirely. ...

From my balcony in Nicosia I’ll see nothing on August 12. The Moon’s shadow doesn’t reach the eastern Mediterranean, so from Cyprus the Moon never crosses the solar disc at all. This is the guide I’d hand a friend who can get themselves somewhere the eclipse actually happens, whether that’s the path of totality across northern Spain or a deep partial from a back garden in London. One rule matters more than everything below it: until the Sun is 100% covered, you look through a certified solar filter or you don’t look at all. Not at 90 percent, not at 99. And if you aren’t standing inside the narrow path of totality, that means filters on for the whole eclipse, first bite to last. Everything else here is built around that line. ...

The path of totality on August 12 sweeps across northern Spain from Galicia to the Balearic Islands. Every region inside the path delivers totality — but the Sun sits between 2° and 11° above the western horizon when it happens, and that changes everything about where you should stand. At 10° altitude the Sun is about one fist-width above the horizon at arm’s length. At 5° it’s half a fist. At 2° you’d lose it behind a two-storey building from 100 m away. One badly placed apartment block, one hilltop in the wrong direction, one row of pines — and you miss totality entirely. ...

On August 12, 2026, at 18:28 UT, the Moon’s shadow will touch down on the coast of Galicia in northwestern Spain. For about 1 minute 50 seconds in Oviedo — less in Bilbao, more in León — the Sun will disappear behind the Moon while sitting roughly 10° above the western horizon. It will be the first total solar eclipse visible from mainland Europe since August 11, 1999. Totality happens at sunset, during the Perseid meteor shower peak, under a new moon. For anyone in the path, the sequence is: watch the Sun vanish near the horizon, turn east, and count Perseids across a moonless sky all night. ...

On the evening of June 9, Venus and Jupiter close to within roughly 1.5° of each other, about three full-moon widths, low in the western twilight. Venus, near magnitude −4, is the brighter of the two. Jupiter sits at about magnitude −2, dimmer but impossible to miss. Both planets fit comfortably inside a standard binocular field of view, and you don’t need anything more than your eyes to enjoy the pairing. The show runs for the better part of a week on either side of the closest approach, so one cloudy night won’t ruin it. ...

On May 31 at 08:45 UTC, the Moon reaches full phase for the second time this month. That second-in-a-month qualifier makes it a Blue Moon by the modern calendar definition. It also happens to sit near apogee — 406,135 km from Earth — making it a Micromoon: roughly 5.5% smaller in angular diameter and about 10% dimmer than an average full moon. It’s the most distant full moon of 2026. And if you walk outside that night expecting something visibly unusual, you’ll be disappointed. ...