Jack of All Trades, Doctor of Some

This week, our newly minted Doctor Innanen presents an essay in defence of the generalist. Once upon a time, all scientists were generalists, "natural philosophers," as they often styled themselves. Isaac Newton (pictured above examining the dispersal of light into the colours of the rainbow in John Adam Houston's illustration from 1870) was such a scientist, making contributions to mathematics, gravitation and optics, amongst other fields. But as knowledge accumulated, scientists became more and more specialized within increasingly narrow fields. Something I greatly enjoy about Planetary Science is that ours is an interdisciplinary field, borrowing and mixing from many different silos of science. 

 By Dr. Alex Innanen

We sometimes joke in PVL that when you come to the lab you will get a ton of projects thrown at you just to see what sticks. Sometimes, this will happen to you multiple times during your time here. Many of these projects stick, which is how you might end up like me – recently defending a PhD dissertation that included five (5) different projects. 

This is not always the way of doing things – you’ll often hear of PhD students with one large project or one specific area that they drill down into. Not so much in the PVL. We tend to end up more as jacks-of-all-trades. I certainly did – my dissertation ranged from martian clouds to analysing images of Newfoundland fogs to studying methane in the Canadian arctic. At least I (mostly) stuck to one planet (even my Earth-based work was used as a martian analogue). Some students in the lab end up defending on multiple planets in (or even outside of) the solar system.

For me, this gels with the way I like to work. There has been many a time when I’ve grown frustrated with the project I’m working on and have set it aside to chip away at another project. It also helps to keep things interesting. Getting bored of methane? Look at some clouds! Not the cloudy season? Plot eight Mars years’ worth of MCS temperature retrievals. 

I am like this outside of work too. I have many varied hobbies – knitting, gardening, baking, reading – that I tend to flip between depending on how I’m feeling. This is where I feel the jack of all trades, master of none adage really fits me. With all my hobbies and interests I feel like I know just enough to be dangerous. I’ll never be baking complex pastry creations or feeding myself entirely on the veggies I grow in my garden, but at least I have plenty to keep myself occupied and to relax with. 

This, I think, is where having a broad knowledge base can be useful. Even if I am not a master of all my areas of knowledge, those are still areas where I know things I may not have if I had just focused on a single area. In my work, I have a broader appreciation for and understanding of the martian atmosphere as a whole than if I had just, for instance, focused on clouds. I can also apply the deep knowledge that I do have in certain areas to others where my knowledge may be a little more surface level. This was certainly the case when I picked up Charissa’s work (linked above) analysing images of laser beams in the fog and in a laboratory setup. Because of my work looking at the scattering properties of martian clouds, I already had a lot of the baseline knowledge to pick up that project. 

But I do still have my knowledge gaps. There are things about martian clouds that I can’t tell you – for instance, I don’t really know much about the scattering properties of carbon dioxide clouds, except for in broad strokes. With methane, while I know much more now about plume variability, I don’t know a lot about methane transport within the martian atmosphere. A skill that I do feel I’ve gained from being a bit of a generalist, though, is how to find out what I need to know. Having covered such broad topics means I’ve also delved broadly into the literature and have had the opportunity to speak and work with a broad range of colleagues. I know who I’d go to if I needed to learn about methane transport in the martian atmosphere. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to answer my question, but they would likely be able to point me in the right direction. 

Part of this is certainly helped by my work on the Curiosity rover. As a member of the environmental science theme group on the rover, I’m working with other scientists who study everything from dust devils to oxygen abundance. We often share our results with each other, so I get to learn a bit of what everyone does. And I need to understand at least a bit of the science rationale behind our different observations, so that I can advocate properly for them when I’m adding them to a rover plan. 

I often joke that planetary science is five different sciences in a trench coat. Five may even be too low, with the amount of ground planetary science covers. Even just within PVL we dip into so many fields: molecular dynamics, seismology, atmospheric chemistry, astrobiology… Planetary science is a broad field, so even with my own broad background I’ve only sampled a small sliver of it. But that just means there’s plenty more out there to learn about!

A Perspective on Analog Writing Implements

The motto of my favorite journal brand, Leuchtturm1917, is "Denken mit der hand" or thinking with the hand. I'm not the only member of my group with an appreciation of the analog. This week Elisa, one of this summer's graduating PhD students and our resident stylophile, shares her own love of tactile thinking. Her caption for the image above is: "Hastily scribbled text trying to capture the incessant flow of words coming from Elisa's mind. Only some of it is captured. Even less of it is legible. Somehow, she still manages to get the gist of it transcribed."

by Dr. Elisa Dong

Analog tools are often overlooked these days as more and more of our work shifts towards the digital space and collaboration shifts towards being hosted on the cloud. Most of this isn't necessarily bad per se, and typing is certainly faster than writing unless you know shorthand. I do feel like the act of writing is one best not forgotten, however.

Who am I to tell you what to do? My only credentials are that I love stationery. Functional, pretty, and just plain cool. Stationery will always excite me. Oh, and I used it extensively throughout my current academic career and attribute much of my successes of writing things by hand. If you like lists, there are lists in this blog post.

Perhaps it is best to start off with a side story regarding my love of note taking and documentation. My first ever purchase with my paltry $5 allowance was a notebook. It was spiral bound and the covers were made of a stiff foam. The cover had some sort of tropical bird on it made of overlapping pieces of foam. It might even had had a googly eye or two attached to the head. As you can imagine, it was immensely exciting to me. I purchased this notebook as guided by my parents to keep track of what I spent my allowance on, or note down when I received more. To this day, I still tally up my purchases by hand, though I'm certainly less vigilant than I used to be. Somehow, the number of my expenditures has also gone up. 

You might have not had the same experience of looking over your numbers and squishing a foam notebook, but I'm sure there will be something you can care about when it comes to stationery. 

Here's another, more recent story for you. During my defense last week, I asked the examination committee to pause right before the exam actually began in earnest (sorry Scott!) so I could grab my notebook.

    "I wanted to take notes," I explained.

    "Don't worry," said one of my supervisors, "We're taking notes."

And so they were, it was meant to be reassuring and a reminder that I would get a summary of requested feedback afterwards. In the meantime, I didn't have to simultaneously take down the questions and try to answer them. 

    "I wasn't (worried), I just think better with a pen in my hand." 

This is true! At least for me, I find my focus instantly sharpened when I have a writing implement in hand. I feel somewhat badly for those who do online exams now. Perhaps their brains have worked out the association with typing into blank boxes and forms. I know mine hasn't. 

The Joy of Writing

I also find my writing to reflect some things that I really enjoy. It's scribbling, yet flowy, and reminds me a lot of my mother's handwriting on the notes she'd leave out on the table for herself as a reminder. I have attempted such reminders, but it only works if I remember to look for them. Naturally, my handwriting is also far harder to decipher than hers. I also love the way ink flows on paper, whether it be a ballpoint or gel, though I'm particular to a smooth ink. Pencils can also be a lovely experience, with a touch of toothiness that reminds you that you're physically sheering away a layer of pigment to lay on paper. 

If you happen to enjoy a touch of colour in writing, it can be quite a delight to write in pencil crayon or fountain pen ink. I personally like fine-tipped felt markers. I periodically order a couple packs of the Zebra Sarasa vintage ink pens. They come in sets of 5 or so, and contain a suite of fairly standard colours, but deeper and more muted. These are far more economical than the clicky gel-pens I used to buy at the Waterloo bookstore to mark assignments or annotate my own work. What a delight it is to use a different colour on paper and see how variable (or invariant!) it can be. Different colours and strategic outlining can be so useful when narrowing down thoughts. Its like highlighters, but more subtle (on that note, I recommend Mildliners, I have some that are nearing a decade old and still function great without searing my retinas). 

Then, there is paper. Receipt paper, cheap paperback paper full of disintegrating fibers, 100 gsm toothy watercolour paper, paper with films or coating for a smooth texture that renders them water resistant but prone to skidding, craft paper... there are so many options out there. I found that the numerous packs of 10 cent sheets that are sold in massive packs at Walmart at the beginning of the school year always treated me well. I certainly went through thousands of those sheets. My biggest gripe with them at the time was that they didn't come in a 5 mm ruling, and instead came in 7 mm. I find 7 mm exceptionally difficult to read on, unless the writing is quite slanted and flowery, in which the extra space helps each word stand out without too much overlapping between lines. Back in elementary school (and for some part of undergrad), I would either opt to write two lines per ruling, or just freehand the lines. I do not think my teachers were impressed by this. I'll come back to this later, but I eventually moved into notebooks within finer rulings or using a grid pad with 5x5 mm grids. 

A Real-time(ish) Example and Things Elisa Likes

Right now (or when I originally drafted this post, see the photo at the top of the article), I'm writing on a discontinued 52 gsm Tomoe River paper notebook that has been printed over with a 3.7 mm grid. The binding of this notebook is excellent. I originally ordered this notebook years ago from Nanami Seven Seas and I think I got one of their cheaper offerings that had some defects, hence the lower price. Back then, the exchange rate of CAD to USD was also far more palatable as well. If you've ever read my personal blog, you'll know that I have a fondness for Hobonichi planner products which use the 52 gsm Tomoe River paper, and had been using them since 2018, but the paper is also now discontinued. Turns out there was only ever one factory that produced this paper and they had closed down. Oops. I believe the replacement is now Sanzen paper. Generally, I'm looking for incredibly thin paper that doesn't show through ("ghost") onto the other side too much so I can write on both sides, and carry around an enormous amount of paper with me at all times without adding too much weight to my already overfilled bags. 

This notebook has several nice features, but I especially appreciate the ability to lay flat (due to the binding method) and the incredibly sturdy binding overall. It has been tossed around in the bottom of my bags for 7 months at this point, and I expect it to hold up for another couple of years. (AN: I'm noticing right now that it’s actually taking longer to type this up than the original writing, perhaps I'm a terribly slow typer! Or perhaps it’s just difficult to transcribe my own writing). I also peeked at the website, and apparently the notebook IS still available, as is the paper. Huh. Perhaps they had a huge back-stock or aren't concerned about the changes in paper quality and there certainly were changes. Mind you, the Café B6 slim that I have is currently unavailable, and it does state that it uses the new paper. 
 

Paper Rankings

Let's say I've intrigued you a bit regarding paper, but you don't want to hunt down a discontinued old copy of the notebook I have. Here are some that I've enjoyed in the past and would happily repurchase:

1. 1/2 year Stalogy notebooks in A6 or B6. These small pocket-sized notebooks use a similar binding technique that let you set the notebook fully flat. Because they can be a little small, you may have to push the pages down, but don't worry because the binding won't give out on you. The typical colours available year-round are black, red, and yellow. Limited edition colours are sometimes released. There is gold embossing along the spine for branding. I personally use the gridded paper version. It comes in 5 mm grid (or dot) and is the perfect size for doing math calculations by hand. What's not great about it if you get the printed grids is that they end quite far from the edges of the page, losing valuable writing space. On top of each page is also a calendar, lightly printed so you can mark in the date yourself. This too, takes up valuable writing space. However, one can certainly use it as a title section. I recommend the slightly larger B6 for actual writing or taking notes, and the A6 for more of a personal to-do list. The problem here is that its not always readily available in Canada, and there is quite a price bump buying it from a local business. I tend to do so periodically if I'm only purchasing one, but otherwise I'll get them straight from Japan if I am putting in an order for pens too. 
   
   
2. Mnemosyne. These notebooks are super sturdy, spiral bound, have a sleek black cover and are perhaps best used for on the go writing when you need a sturdy surface. For an unknown reason, there is a stunning strong yellow page in each one of these notebooks. I find it incredibly eye-catching. I have only used the A5 size from this brand. Regardless of the page design, the back side of each page is blank. The individual sheets are quite sturdy and thick, with a lovely soft cream colour that's really quite close to white. Each page tears out neatly with the microperforations. This notebook is for those who like a bit of heft, but appreciate a slim build to tuck away. Or if you like to doodle and write notes on a rickety subway line. They also take wetter inks and markers quite well, and I find that pencil crayons shade nicely on this paper. I usually use it as my base paper for sending letters because I find the paper so satisfying to hold in my hands. I imagine the recipients appreciate it too, though I've never confirmed.
   
   
3. Muji notebooks. The ones in the 5 packs with different coloured spines. I used these extensively in my undergraduate studies. One notebook colour per class. And I'd just purchase more if I was short on them. The paper texture was reasonably nice and smooth, and the price was definitely right for something so customizable. I've checked, and there are no Mujis close by to my new place! Looks like I'll have to swing by on my trips to Toronto. There was something exceptionally charming about the Muji shop encouraging people to stamp their notebooks in store to customize them. 
   
   
4. Leuchtturm1917 notebooks. The paper quality of these is variable, but if you enjoy a thicker notebook cover and built in bookmarks, I recommend these. The cream colouring is excellent and easy on the eyes. These notebooks are A5-ish sized. Normally I'd argue that they're too large to be toting around. But since the cover is very stiff, it'll hold up against the other miscellaneous items rattling around in your bag no problem! It's also got an elastic to keep the pages shut to prevent dinging up and folding pages that might splay open. I found that these typically lasted about ¾ of a year for me. I do really appreciate that the pages are numbered if you like indexing your notes. 

All of the above, except for the Muji notebooks, have a coating on the sheets that let ink float on top and show off fun features. It also means that text can take some time to dry before you can close the pages without smearing. I've also found that if your hands are a bit oily/sweaty, it can ruin the coating on the paper leading to a very blotchy writing experience. This seems to vary across all the papers, with the original Tomoe River paper having the least amount of ruined coating. Mnemosyne is also pretty great about staying consistent, but I don't do enough writing on it to actually test it out. It does seem like a lot to care about when I write it up! Nice writing experience aside, I feel like there are some good reasons to give writing by hand a shot: 

1. Improved memory of things you write down. I'm sure there are a few references kicking around for this. Have people done studies on typing as an equivalent? It does still take fine motor control to some extent (my motor control is less fine, if you ever hear me type, it sounds like I'm trying to destroy the keys).
   
   
2. I imagine its generally good for the brain. Something about using both the more creative side and the fine motor control side at the same time. Perhaps there is also an equivalent perk when it comes to typing however, as stabbing at tiny keys can be quite difficult to do precisely!
   
   
3. Processing of ideas, emotions, and the like. This mostly pertains to the value of journalling, but I also find it useful to write things out by hand when I’m looking for patterns. This can be notes on papers I’m reading, or a wrong variable in an equation I’m trying to track down. 
   
   
4. Bonus - talking to other people who love stationery! One of my new colleagues recognized the pens I was using, and we ended up connecting over the brands we use for writing. I've promised to bring in fountain pen inks to the office. I also remember one of the first meetings with the PVL lab I went to, John saw that I had a rather unique looking notebook! Stationery lovers can identify each other from a mile away I feel. 

Discontinued notebook and paper aside, I also try to always have a booklet of regular letter-sized grid paper on a pad on hand. I find it super useful to work out problems, illustrate things to people if I don't want to check if the whiteboard markers are dried out, and mock up maps if there's some impromptu DnD about to happen. I used these extensively in undergrad for a while as an alternative to the Muji notebooks. I'd take notes continuously on the pad and flip them over so they wouldn't tear at the top, and just start a new page for each class I was going to. At the end of the term, I would compile all the sheets together. 

I wonder if there are many students who bring paper and pen to class these days. I can see the value in not losing your notes by maintaining them digitally, but it is nice to be able to shuffle sheets around and see the entire class represented all at once. I remember I mostly brought in my laptop to read manga during lectures, and occasionally annotated power point slides as they became more common later in my degree. Rarely did I feel it was worth the battery power consumption to bring a laptop to class though. About half of my classmates simply printed out the slides and filled them in by hand, later transcribing them onto a digital copy. Doing things twice might seem inefficient, but I imagine it meant things stuck in their heads more.*

I'm at somewhat of a loss as to what I'm going to do after I finish up my stash of notebooks (I accumulated a few from Hobonichi with their blank/undated pages a couple years ago, though I don't love the book size). I recently purchased one from Knock Thrice which had a fun trim, but the notebook itself seemed far to heavy to be lugging around. Since I don't love having separate books for different things, unless it's meant to be very one-off, I think I'll have to go back to the Stalogy. Maybe with my next bulk purchase of the Zebra Sarasa since I'm down to one now, I think. With Tomoe River gone, possibly forever, I may truly need to move on. 
 

On Pens and Friendships

In the past few paragraphs, I've been very "In my day...", but the the truth is that my stationery loving journey really accelerated when I found entire online communities that shared similar interests. Shortly after I had an explanation from my brother as to why he had a syringe in the bathroom that is (blunt-tipped, used to refill ink). He promised it was nothing nefarious, and gave me my first ever Platinum Preppy. Prior to that, I just periodically purchased rather pricey gel pens so that my hands wouldn't cramp when marking student assignments. After... well. Let's say I've been to pen meetups and regularly scope out stationery shops when I get the chance. The existence of the community has given me access to trying out pens that go for thousands of dollars MSRP, and sampling papers that I normally wouldn't have paid for, like those element themed bound notebooks that launched on a Kickstarter that I won during a giveaway that seems to have since vanished. 

I found that the (fountain pen) community was incredibly generous and welcoming, regardless of what price point you could handle, or what it was you enjoyed. Whether it be 18 K nibs, custom grinds, cheapie beaters, urushi, or the history of pens and paper. I was encouraged to test things out, swap inks, and simply chat about whatever it was on our minds. The community at the time was fairly small, and it was interesting hearing perspectives on new developments. I tried to give back where I could, and essentially gave away a prized Platinum Century 3776 that I had initially purchased second hand from the US. I'm also a big fan of distributing Platinum Preppy and Pilot Kakuno pens, which I find to be excellent writers in spite of their price point. They are currently my preferred pens, though I have cracked several of them. 

As it turns out, price does not correlate with quality when it comes to fountain pens. Typically, the writing end comes from one of a few companies, and the differences arise from the body of the pen. Urushi, a hand lacquring technique, is far more expensive than an injection mold. Explosive rods that were used for the gorgeous striping found in celluloid have been discontinued because...they are explosive. The technology for flex nibs seemingly has been lost over years. Pens with unique aspects tend to go for more than the standard counterparts. 

Some of the modern “grails” (sub $200) I've tried out! I enjoyed the writing experience of the Platinum 3776, but the number of turns to uncap the pen drove me nuts. I've also had a Pilot Vanishing Point, and upgraded to a vintage body. Unfortunately, I didn't purchase a vintage nib along side it, and it doesn't cap fully when retracted, leading to a messy experience. I also tinkered with the nib and lost most of its tipping. Oops. I also tried out the gorgeous Lamy 2000. What a nightmare that was. I found one on sale with exactly what I wanted, an extra fine nib. Well, with such a huge tolerance for EF, it was decidedly not extra-fine. Furthermore, the makrolon body cracked after a few months, apparently a well-known defect the Lamy team hasn't resolved. I quite enjoyed the taper of the pen, but clearly it was not the one for me. I'm still eyeing a Waterman Carene, but the Platinum desk pen is actually an excellent replacement that is actually fine, and tapered. I've also acquired a "vintage" Pilot pocket pen that posts and turns into a light-weight rounded pen. It has an engraving on it that I've never bothered to translate, but it was most likely a graduation gift for someone at some point. The nib is slightly bouncy, and allows for excellent variation across a single stroke. But it doesn't open so wide that it would be classified as a flex pen. I like this one for urban sketching. 

These days I use a mix of the Zebra Sarasa vintage pens and relatively cheap fountain pens (Platinum Preppy and Pilot Kakuno). I'm not too surprised if they crack in two years given my reckless treatment of them, but they last usually well beyond that length. I had a favourite Preppy with the most incredible nib last just over five years! 

More Reason to Carry Around Stationery

Anyhow, I do feel it is well worth trying to write things using pen and paper. There's something about the inability to edit and simply scratching out mistakes that is incredibly satisfying. Having a notebook on hand also gives you the freedom to doodle during boring meetings rather than browse unrelated websites, which might be more obvious. 

Related to writing, is also just drawing out your problems. I personally think my presentations are pretty decent! For the better ones, I almost always have something mocked up on paper first to show a story board. This is something I did for my defense (Fig. 2), and I had less than normal feedback on the specific contents and sequence of delivery as a result (I think). Instead, the feedback I got could focus on small details to really polish the final product (Fig. 3). When I start drafting something on Power Point (or equivalent software) right away, I often get stuck and feel uninspired, even if I have headers and points of what I want to present on each slide. Starting it out on paper feels more exciting and I can see the whole vision together with minimal distractions. No looking at my messy fingerprints on the screen, the annoying colour scheme of the software, or a reminder to log into my Microsoft account! Especially when I'm planning out a sequence that involves quite a long time to put together, I feel like its best to see it out on paper before the committing the several hours it takes to complete.

Figure 2. A draft storyboard in preparation for a defense. Elisa likes to think of them as movie scripts, with critical details in scenes shown as their own slides, and various arcs that need to be captured. The ellipses represent various content that are either methodology or results, which she likes to keep fairly simple, nothing too flashy. Some of these sections would borrow from previous slides, so any critical design elements didn’t have to be reproduced. The transition slides and ideas are shown on the far right. Key words are written in all caps for legibility.

 Figure 3. Simple notes that Elisa took during her second mock defense regarding things that could be improved. These pages are a mix of suggestions in illustration and animation upgrades, and text that covers things she likely wants to remember or reconsider for before the final presentation.

 

Conclusion?

I don’t really have one for you. I wanted to share a love of stationery and encourage that readers seriously consider trying out writing by hand. Even if you cannot read your own handwriting, there is a lot of value to putting your thoughts on paper.

---

*As a further aside, I lived in China for a year, and I recall the stationery there to be generally excellent unless you were purchasing scrap paper that was clearly quite rough and fibrous that was meant for practicing letters. Paper was pretty much always quite nice, regardless of whether or not it was cheap and had cute figures on the front. I definitely recommend purchasing random cute notebooks when in East Asia, generally everything is nicer feeling, even if it is cheap! 

One Year In

 

It's an adjustment, starting grad school. Even if you've already done research work, becoming a teaching assistant, taking on more responsibility in the lab or even lecturing to a class can be daunting! But fear not - these are challenges that all academics have overcome in their careers and so will you. This week, MSc student Isabelle Marincic reflects on her first year experience.

by Isabelle Marincic

It’s official! I am one year into my masters, yet I am feeling dumber than ever before. Well, not really, but being in a constant state of learning makes me feel like I never actually know anything for certain. After a slight crash-out with my supervisor (shout out John), I am finally starting to feel like I belong, and that maybe I can actually get through this degree. I want to dedicate this blog post to things I’ve learned, skills I’ve gained, and things I am still working on. (This blog post topic was inspired by Grace’s wonderful enrichment exercise at the last group meeting.)

What have I learned (seriously!)

Throughout a masters, learning comes in many forms. This can be academic or personal, in that while I have definitely gained scientific knowledge I have also gained knowledge about how I am able to effectively conduct research. A hard lesson learned was how self-regulated a masters degree really is, and as it turns out, I needed to come to terms with the fact that I am really bad at self-motivation sometimes. Most days my schedule is completely up to me, which sounds ideal in theory but in practice allows for the perpetuation of bad habits, such as doom-scrolling on reels. This combined with the crushing weight of impostor syndrome leads to quite the unproductive day. I quickly realized that I needed to change my mindset, mostly regarding my impostor syndrome. For a while doing research felt like; “Why even bother if I know some other masters student out there is way smarter than me?” I bother because I love research, I love what I am researching, and this is the place I know I want to be. On top of my difficulty in an academic setting, the negative self-talk was seeping into other areas of my life, into things I also simply love doing. So, while having learned a lot about remote sensing techniques and methane measurements on Mars, one of the most important learning experiences was learning how to speak nicer to myself. Self-motivation can be really difficult - and it is currently a work in progress - but it is most definitely progressing in the right direction. Thankfully, I work with an amazing group of people who always offer the best and most comforting advice :) 

Have I even gained any skills?

You bet I have. Again, skills can be separated into academic and personal. The academic skills I have gained are small but mighty. For instance, I can read better now. And by this I mean I can better approach a research paper rather than having absolutely no clue where to start. A good place to start is the abstract, though. Then I like to read headings and assess the flow of the paper. Sometimes I accidentally end up just reading the entire paper depending on how cool the research is, but this is often a waste of time </3 

Earlier this year I had the opportunity to give a lecture on Martian methane (see image above)! I was really excited to work on my public speaking skills as this skill is crucial when attending conferences and presenting your research. I also hope to continue down the academic track to obtain a professorship (in a thousand years) so giving a lecture fit right in with that goal.  

Finally with regards to a personal skill that I’ve gained, I realized that in order to complete work I HAVE to allot hours in my day to specific tasks. Otherwise, I will literally not complete anything. Perhaps I acquired this skill a little late in the game but better late than never!

Some more room to grow

There will always be room for a person to grow, which is what makes life so fulfilling. Although, it can be hard to admit you need to grow, hence my crash out. I was in denial for a couple of months about the severity of my issues, resulting in such a build up of feelings that they all came out in a teary mess. So, moving forward, I plan on maintaining a positive internal dialogue, and to simply keep trying new things despite not feeling 10000% confident. This holds true for my academic endeavours, like writing my first paper, or my athletic endeavours, because my climbing gym is sandbagged and I keep falling off the wall. But like most things in life worth doing, you have to suck before you can get better!

 

[Insert Title Here]

Writing is a key part of being a researcher of any kind. It's not enough to do the work, take the data or make the discovery. It's not science until it is shared. This week, Alex reflects on their writing journey.

By Alex Innanen

I like to think of myself as a pretty good writer. Very young me harboured the wish to be a famous novelist when I grew up, and I probably still have old notebooks hidden somewhere in my parents’ house full of stories and attempted novels. There’s a lot about writing I like. I like putting words together in interesting and clever ways (I am a big fan of puns), I like figuring out how best to say something, and I really like the rules of language which feel a bit like a puzzle. In first year engineering we had a Technical Writing for Engineers course that many of my classmates groaned about but for me I was thrilled to have a whole class full of grammar quizzes. 

Moderate bragging aside, there’s one thing I struggle with time and again when I’m writing and that is choosing a title. Several of the posts I’ve written for this very blog have been sent to John with something like ‘I can’t think of a good title, HELP!’ at the top. I also write blog posts about once a month for the Curiosity Rover’s mission updates page, and there’s many a time I’ll have the whole post written, sitting in my inbox ready to be sent for approval and struggling to think of a title. 

It's not just blog titles either – short stories, journal articles, even my dissertation. And all these different kinds of writing need different sorts of titles! But this post is not just for me to complain about how hard titles are though. Having toiled in the title mines for as long as I have, I’ve developed some tricks and observations about choosing a good title. 

The job of your title is to give your audience somewhat of an idea of what they’re getting into, or at least to interest them enough that they might want to read what you’ve written. For something like a blog post, I try to keep it relatively short and clear. The title of this post, for instance, pokes fun at not being able to come up with a title while also giving an idea of what the post may be about. When I’m writing mission updates for Curiosity I tend to go one of two ways: some wordplay or reference to a well known phrase (for example, “New Year, New Clouds”), or succinctly describing something important from the plan (like “On Top of the Ridge” – three guesses where we were). 

Writing a title for a paper is a bit different. You can assume that whoever is reading your title has a bit more familiarity with the subject so you can be a bit more specific. Sometimes this leads to marathon-length titles. The title of my first research note, for example, “Minimum Mars Climate Sounder Retrieval Altitudes Reveal Cloud Altitudes at Aphelion and Stranded High-altitude Dust Following the MY34 Global Dust Storm on Mars” is twenty three entire words. This may seem a bit excessive, but you cannot deny that it tells you exactly what’s in the note. We’re also big fans of the humble colon in academia. My master’s thesis was titled “Aphelion Cloud Formation and Swiss Cheese Sublimation: Martian Atmospheric Water Vapour Processes”. The first bit of the title tells you the two subjects of my thesis, the second part ties them together. Sometimes, Journals will have guidelines for paper titles. Acta Astronautica, for example, has a 15 word limit. My research note above wouldn’t fly, and in fact the title I proposed for the paper I submitted there (which I posted about here) was too long and I had to figure out how to fit what I wanted to say in their word limit (I think I changed ‘Canadian Arctic’ to ‘Arctic’). 

So maybe I actually do know a bit more about this title thing than I thought when I started writing this blog post. In fact, I feel confident enough to offer some things to think about when you’re coming up with a title: 

1. Consider your audience. Will they recognise what Aphelion means? Will they enjoy a good pop culture reference? 
2. What is/are the main takeaway(s) of your piece? Are there different subjects you need to link?
3. Is there a word limit? Should there be a word limit? How can you be more concise?
4. How are you going to get people excited to read what you’ve written? 

As with most things, though, practice helps. The more I write, the more titles I need to think of and the less daunting it gets each time.  

Another Summer at PVL!

 Ahh, summertime! You'd be surprised by the number of people who think us academics just get four months of vacation. Instead, it's the busiest time of the year as we turn to focus almost exclusively on our research. But for those early career academics just stepping into research, it can be a formative experience. It's not just the work, but also the environment, the people and the excitement of having your own project in the midst of a talented and supportive group. I still remember my summer undergraduate research from back in the day. In this week's post, Ella shares her experience during her second summer with us. (Image Above: Kate, Brock and Ella canoeing at Sunnyside, the smallest ice-cream sizes at Kawartha, and the pizza party!)

 By Ella Ordinaria 

Hello PVL Blog! It’s me, Ella, the PVL undergrad! I wrote my first blog last summer, and here I am again – full circle!

This summer, I once again received the NSERC Undergraduate Student Research Award, which allowed me to work in the lab full-time. My work focused on revising the Cruise Phase Microbial Survival (CPMS) model that Moores and Schuerger developed in 2020. The original CPMS model calculated the bioburden reduction on the Europa Clipper (EC) spacecraft under a direct and Venus-Earth-Earth Gravity Assist (VEEGA) trajectory. However, when EC launched in October of last year, it followed a Mars-Earth Gravity Assist (MEGA) trajectory instead. So, we revised the CPMS model to reflect the MEGA trajectory.

I started working on this project in early 2025, but things didn’t really pick up until summer. After all the modeling work, our goal was to produce a 2,500-word research note – which brought me my greatest challenge: writing. I was overwhelmed by the messy notes I’d written throughout the year, and the constant revisions made the words jumble together. As many of you know, scientific writing often feels like a never-ending cycle of writing, erasing, and rewriting.

Ultimately, we published the paper in Research Notes of the American Astronomical Society (RNAAS). Seeing the work out there was so rewarding! I’m very grateful for the opportunity to write a first-author paper and for Dr. John Moores’s trust in entrusting this project to me. This would also not be possible without Dr. Moores, Dr. Schuerger, and PhD student Grace Bischoff, the co-authors of the paper. Their support and revisions have helped me grow immensely as a writer. I’m honored to receive guidance from the people I look up to! I also presented this work at the Lassonde Undergraduate Research Conference and did an interview on the AAS YouTube channel with Frank Timmins, the AAS Journals Deputy Editor-in-Chief. 

With the CPMS work crossed off my list, I spent the rest of the summer working on the Orbiting Sample (OS) container project. As with the CPMS model, we’re interested in bioburden reductions on the OS container, one of the key components of the Mars Sample Return (MSR) mission. Since the MSR mission is one of the most ambitious planetary missions ever developed, the concept of “breaking the chain” of contact between Mars and Earth is a critical component. Coming from a biochemistry background, my main challenge on this project was the math and physics required to modify the original model to incorporate the energy balance during the cooling and heating phases of the OS container. I’m currently in the writing phase of this project which is a part of the process I do enjoy, though it’s also something I’d love to get better at. That said, most of my work at PVL has centered on modeling bioburden reductions on spacecraft, which happens to be one of my favorite concepts in astrobiology. Planetary protection excites me because it is an important consideration for forward and backward contamination, protecting Earth from foreign materials while ensuring the integrity of space exploration.

Work aside, this has probably been the most dynamic and eventful four months at PVL! With new students joining the lab, this summer was packed with fun socials and plenty of laughs. Some of our activities included rock climbing at Basecamp, trekking downtown to tackle the humongous ice cream portions at Kawartha Dairy, the annual summer pizza party, grabbing an iced matcha latte with Kate every morning (which we called the DOTD – drink of the day) and my personal favorite, the ultimate undergraduate adventure: canoeing at Sunnyside Beach. 

John and I at the Lassonde Summer Undergraduate Research Conference! 

Although summer has come to an end, thankfully my time at PVL has not. I’ll be taking the fall and winter semesters off for an internship, but I’ll still be involved with PVL to continue the OS project. Once a PVLer, always a PVLer!

A Niche Conference?

 Being at a conference is like being thrown in the deep end; it's like drinking from a fire-hose; it's so unlike anything else in academia that water-based analogies just don't describe it accurately! It's an even more impactful experience if we're talking about your first scientific conference or your first time diving into a new field where unexpected connections can be made (e.g. discovering a new kind of Phoenix!). This week, Kevin shares his experience of attending a planetary science conference with a narrow scope: the 10th Mars Conference.

by Dr. Kevin Axelrod

Back in July of this past year (which is 2024, for those of you reading this in the future), the Planetary Volatiles Laboratory of York University traveled to Pasadena, California to attend and present at the 10th Mars Conference, hosted by Cal Tech and organized by USRA. This conference is not held every year, usually just once or twice a decade and therefore had some big-shot attendees from NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory and elsewhere. In total there were nearly a thousand participants.  Given that it talks about the study of a single non-Earth planet in the universe, I considered it to be niche - something that is highly specialized, highly technical, and extremely important to some but obscure to many.

So, coming from an Earth-oriented atmospheric sciences background (I got my Ph.D. in atmospheric sciences, and my research focused on bioaerosols) at first, I found it very difficult to fit in.  In just about every single conversation, (including with graduate students, who are supposedly “less experienced” than a postdoc) I found myself to be the least experienced participant. Typically, the other person did 99% of the talking, and, when responding to someone, I would just say stuff like “Okay”, “Hmm… interesting”, “I see”, “Alright, sounds good”, and “Cool”. I had difficulty contributing meaningful thoughts to conversations because I simply did not know enough.

I immediately noticed something in an opening plenary given by one of the keynote speakers, someone highly experienced that I would think of as a “big-shot.” In his presentation, he discussed a measurement technique and the missions that have performed these measurements. Then, in the question session, a member of the audience playfully ridiculed him for not including a shout-out of the Phoenix lander for a similar measurement that it had performed.  He genuinely apologized, stated that he is a “big fan” of the Phoenix lander, and that its exclusion was an oversight.

Meanwhile, I sat there thinking: “Hmmm… Phoenix.  To me, Phoenix is a city in Arizona, a bird in Harry Potter, and the mascot of a professional ultimate frisbee team based in Philadelphia (above).” Don’t ask me how I somehow know that third one. 

This was one of many instances where I felt like I should have signed up to be the guy filling the water coolers instead of an actual presenter. Other scientists there seemed to know every single Mars mission like the back of their hand – something that I should study more.  People there knew all the important (and more obscure) studies, both legacy and recent.  

Niche conferences are nothing new to me: back in 2023 I attended a conference called the International Conference on Carbonaceous Particles in the Atmosphere, at Berkeley. There perhaps 150 participants (given its small size, John might call this a “workshop”, not a conference), and the title said it all.  Carbonaceous Particles in the Atmosphere was the only topic discussed.  I did my Ph.D. on bioaerosols, so my research fit in perfectly with this conference, and there were many other scientists there who were also doing work on bioaerosols.  

I talked with these people like we were equals: I knew what they were talking about and vice versa.  But, even in a “niche” conference like this, with relatively few attendees and a narrow range of subject material, there were also several presentations that struck me as completely new – things I have not researched before, worked on, heard of, or imagined.  While I vibed with a good number of presentations, there also were many presentations that were so new to me that I was completely lost by the second slide in the slide show – giving me the feeling that I was having at 10th Mars in Pasadena. Even in a conference where I have a good grasp of much of the research, there was still plenty of research that made me feel like a “newbie”.

Remembering this conference, I now realize that there may not exist a conference that is too niche. Even when narrowing down the range of topics, science is still extremely broad, and even more extremely detailed.  Because of this, I find it difficult to call myself an “expert” in a broad field like atmospheric sciences, even though I have a Ph.D in this topic.

So, 10th Mars reminded me of something critical: the most important skill in a scientific career isn’t knowing everything there is to know in a field. It is the ability to push outside of your comfort zone and learn new things. Even though you may have a Ph.D, you can never stop being a student. Even though 10th Mars was perhaps a bit uncomfortable for me (because of my relative lack of experience in the field compared to other participants), I learned more material in those four days than maybe I ever had before in a four-day span.

The message of this blog post is this: I would highly recommend all early-career scientists to not just attend conferences in your field of expertise, but conferences that are slightly (or more than slightly) outside of your area of expertise. And to be honest, middle- and late-career scientists should probably be doing the same as well. It will challenge you to learn new things, meet new collaborators, and in doing so conceptualize new ideas for research that you may never have had if you had just stayed in your typical lane – the one that you were trained in when you did your M.S. or Ph.D.  

A few final thoughts:
1.    I need to find a way to drag some other members of the PVL out to a conference with more Earth-based atmospheric sciences!  I guess the American Geophysical Union Annual Meeting in Washington DC is a good place to start (three of us were there last year!).
2.    “Phoenix” now includes the name of a NASA Mars lander from 2008 as a definition in my brain-dictionary!

Au Revoir and Until Next Time, my Fellow PVLers

 Dr. Charissa Campbell, at York University's fall convocation with a member of the PVL class of 2050.

by Dr. Charissa Campbell

Well, after many years with the PVL team where I completed both my MSc and PhD, it is time to say goodbye. I just finished my walk across the stage at convocation in mid-October. Even though I may not be there in-person any longer, I don’t feel like my time is fully done with the PVL crew as I’ve made amazing friendships and collaborations. I’ve learned a lot about myself during these times and I am grateful for the opportunity to pursue my degrees with the group and how that work granted me my dream job where I live now, Maryland, USA. I’ve been fortunate enough to land a postdoctoral research position at the NASA Goddard Space Flight Centre continuing work on the Martian atmosphere. But here, I am looking at a unique type of dust storm rather than the clouds I studied at York.

 

Recently I was asked about my favourite memory with the PVL group and to be honest there were just too many to pick one. My work with the Curiosity team helping to manage environmental operations was high on the list (see: So Long and Thanks for All the Clouds)  but so was developing an outreach event for the Ontario Science Centre (see: The Rover Exploration Challenge). All the travel I got to do to places like Geneva, Switzerland; Paris, France amid others was where the real networking happened so I could feel like a true Martian with other scientists while also practicing my public speaking skills. I also got the amazing opportunity to visit the Canadian Light Source in Saskatoon Saskatchewan and not only do lab experiments at this amazing facility, but got to brave the -40 C weather that I grew up with and do not miss (see: The Continuing Adventures At the Canadian Light Source). I managed to use all this traveling to complete an item on my bucket list; visiting every Canadian province. I completed this when my colleague, Grace, and I traveled to Newfoundland to complete field experiments for the MAPLE instrument (see: There and Back Again, A MAPLE Tale ). Lastly, my time working on an internship at the Canadian Space Agency was also a big highlight and a dream of mine that I am still in shock in came true (see: Completing an Internship at the Canadian Space Agency).  I could go on and on about the amazing experiments and experiences I’ve had with this group. I’ve had an amazing 20s and now I am ready for my 30s and my career.

 

Even though I walked the stage in mid-October for my PhD, I actually left Toronto for Maryland back in November 2023. I was able to complete my dissertation revisions while also doing work here at NASA Goddard so that I could ensure a good salary for my family and a new opportunity for them to explore life here in the USA. My son is now in Pre-K in a wonderful school (oh how the time flies by!) in the Annapolis Maryland area and we’ve also gotten lucky at being able to afford a wonderful house with a big backyard with lots of birds and trees. Some of my best work here in Maryland is sitting outside in the backyard with my laptop and enjoying the fresh air. The climate here in Maryland is a lot warmer than what I grew up with in Edmonton, Alberta but I am grateful for experiencing the weather of Ontario to prep me for what we are experiencing here in Maryland. From May till August temperatures were hot and humid like a swamp. However, now in October/November it is very mild with wonderful colours in the tree for Autumn. Last winter was quite mild in comparison to Canadian winters, which felt like a nice change. The one tidbit about Maryland winters that made me laugh is that elementary kids don’t have recess when the temperatures go below 0 degrees Celsius. That is basically all of Canada’s winters, especially where I grew up in Edmonton, so Arthur has gotten lucky! My year here in Maryland has been great and I am hoping to turn it into our long-term home so that I can find some stability for my son and our family while exploring my career.

 

I feel like I've come a long way in not only being a scientist, but as a person and I’ve learned a lot of lessons and knowledge that I will take with me into the future, all thanks to my time with PVL. Luckily, I am able to keep my postdoctoral position for a longer term if I can keep putting through proposals to convince scientific committees to fund my salary to do research. It can be a bit daunting to have to constantly ask for funding for work but at the same time it allows me to be an individual scientist and try proposing my own ideas. Through learning how to develop experiments, instruments, writing papers, or mentoring others I feel very prepared after my time with PVL to become a true scientist here at NASA Goddard.

 

Once again, I want to thank the PVL crew (past and present) for the amazing memories and our leader John Moores for creating the opportunities for us so that we can learn and thrive in our individual scientific way. Toronto has been a unique experience for me after having grown up on the prairies in a smaller city, but I am glad I was able to conquer Toronto and the horrendous traffic. I wish everyone the best at the PVL team and I’m sure I will see y’all at the next conference where I will accidentally hang out with you as I feel like I will always be a PVLer.

Exploring the Unknown: My First Steps into Planetary Science Research at the PVL

Every summer, we host undergraduates in the lab at the PVL and during the year we bring in volunteers to experience what professional research looks like. Today Ella, one of those undergrads, tells the story of their research journey so far!

by Ruella Ordinaria

Last summer, one of York’s monthly email updates featured an article on Dr. Haley Sapers’ expedition to Nunavut to test Mars rover simulations. The words, ‘astrobiology’ and ‘Mars’ immediately caught my attention. Seeing that Dr Sapers was part of the Planetary Volatiles Lab (PVL), I emailed Dr. Moores for potential opportunities to contribute to his lab. I exchanged an exciting conversation with Dr. John Moores and in the fall, I was assigned to help a PhD student, Grace Bischof, with her research on developing a Mars Microbial Survival (MMS) model. Fast forward, I completed eight months as an undergraduate volunteer at PVL and this summer, I received the NSERC USRA from NSERC and the Lassonde School of Engineering. 

Now, what’s the actual science I’m working on, you may ask? The MMS Model estimates the bioburden reduction on Mars spacecraft during the cruise phase and on the surface. The MMS model calculates the quantity of terrestrial microorganisms remaining on a spacecraft's surface as it is exposed to the effects of the most deleterious space conditions. These include high vacuum, extreme temperatures, solar UV radiation, and ionizing radiation such as solar wind particles (SWPs). This is important because when we send spacecraft to celestial bodies like Mars, we want to prevent forward contamination as it can impact future exploration of extra-terrestrial life on Mars.

My enriching, fulfilling experience while doing research at the PVL, along with the challenges that came with it, has allowed me to grow both academically and professionally. The first challenge I faced was my limited background in space and planetary science. When I joined the PVL, I was entering my second year as a Biochemistry major and I barely knew anything about biochemistry, let alone planetary science. Although I still struggle with this knowledge gap, it has become easier to address by learning through literature searches. In addition, I also struggled significantly with programming. Grace’s project, the MMS Model, uses Python for calculations and graphing. While I had previous experience with HTML / CSS and Python through hackathons and self-learning, I had never worked with numerical modeling or data processing before. Familiarizing myself with these concepts was a challenge, and I essentially had to learn from scratch—from graphing to using various Python libraries for modeling. Google and Stack Overflow became my go-to resources. Fortunately, I am surrounded by passionate Mars experts with many years of research experience who are always willing to answer my questions.

Not only did I learn about all the exciting things about microbial survival, Mars, clouds, and the atmosphere, but I’ve also developed many technical and soft skills such as coding, writing, data collection, collaboration, problem-solving, and critical thinking, just to name a few. This invaluable knowledge and skill are something that I would have never formally gained from my degree alone. Engaging in research early on in my academic career has also allowed me to apply the knowledge I’ve learned in the classroom to real, practical research. My interactions with lab members have given me insight into the workload, the highs and lows, and the overall culture in academia, which has helped clarify my career goals and deepened my passion for planetary science and research.

Most importantly, I learned that research is not instantaneous – it is a journey composed of both productive and unproductive days. I learned that some days you might read 10 papers, write pages of words, and run many lines of code, while on other days, you might spend hours just sitting, thinking, writing then scratching and writing again. Although there have been times when I felt unmotivated, I still look forward to coming to the office every day with the same excitement I had when I first visited Dr. Moores’ office.

And of course, one of the best parts about doing research is the people! My interest in research comes from my aspiration to be part of a community that shares a profound passion for exploring the intricacies of the world and a dedication to immersing themselves in their questions – I found that community in the PVL. Some of my favourite memories are getting last place during bowling, dilly-dallying at Toronto Island, and eating lunch at the Petrie courtyard under the legendary Newton tree (manifesting a Nature paper!). I owe all of my positive research experience to my role models – Grace, Dr. Moores, and all the PVL members. Their support has been incredibly helpful in navigating my research challenges and has kept me curious about the world.

So, what’s next? Tomorrow, the next day, and throughout the rest of the school year, I’ll be heading to the Petrie building to continue my exciting planetary science research! Stay tuned ;)!

Five Pictures from Ten (Earth) Years of Curiosity

 

The photos that our robot geologists (and robot atmospheric scientists) bring back to us from other worlds help us to relate to these places on a human scale. No one at the PVL have looked at more images of Mars than Alex and so, who better to take us on a visual trip down memory lane on this auspicious anniversary?

By Alex Innanen

August 6^th marks 10 (earth) years since Curiosity (AKA the Mars Science Laboratory or MSL, because space people love a good acronym) landed in Gale Crater on Mars. If you’ve been around the blog, you’ll know that many PVL-ers have had the chance to work on the mission (myself included) and there have been a plethora of posts over the years about what doing ENV operations is like, or what cool science MSL is doing, or other big mission events, like the 2018 global dust storm or passing 2000 sols on Mars. To add to this collection, and to celebrate 10 years of Curiosity (or 5 Mars years, a milestone reached this most recent January), I’m going to journey through some of my favourite pictures the rover has taken over the past decade.

First we have the above picture, a classic selfie. Curiosity regularly poses for MAHLI (the Mars Hand Lens Imager) to take these self portraits, which are actually mosaics of tens of MAHLI images. There’s a fantastic video of Curiosity’s arm moving around to get all the pictures that make up a selfie. This particular selfie was captured during the 2018 global dust storm, and you can see dust in the background obscuring the crater rim. This is the same dust storm that heralded the end of Opportunity’s mission, but Curiosity came through with lots of science (and nifty pictures) to show for it.

Going all the way back in time to 2012, this is a 360° panorama of Curiosity’s landing site, named ‘Bradbury’ for the sci-fi author Ray Bradbury. Right in the centre of the picture is Mount Sharp (or Aeolis Mons), the mountain in the centre of Gale Crater. Mount Sharp is made up of sediments laid down in Gale Crater over a long period of Mars’ history, and as Curiosity has climbed up it, it’s as though the rover has been travelling through that history. But first it had to get to the base of Mount Sharp, a trip which took around 2 years trundling through the remnants of ancient lakes and rivers. I love looking at this panorama because it gives a great idea of how far Curiosity has traveled – over 28 km and 600 m of elevation, now. It's also a great ‘big picture’ shot – every new location Curiosity visits is (in my humble opinion) stunning and unique in its own way, with so much new and exciting to look at. This image lets you take a step back and take it all in.

It would be remiss of me to not include a cloud picture, so here it is, my absolute favourite cloud shot. I may be slightly biased, as I was on shift when this image was planned, but it’s so dramatic, with the cliff face (called ‘Mont Mercou’) in the foreground and the glowing clouds behind. These are Noctilucent clouds, which means ‘night shining’, and were captured at twilight early this Mars year (which was actually March of 2021 – Mars years are long). These kinds of clouds are high up in the atmosphere, and are illuminated by the setting sun, even visible when the sun has gone below the horizon. This is what makes them appear to glow, still being illuminated while the rest of the sky darkens. These particular twilight clouds seem to form more readily in Gale crater near the beginning of the Mars year, something the team discovered in Mars year 35. At the start of Mars year 36 (the current Mars year) we started looking for them and were not disappointed. One of the great things about Curiosity having been on Mars for so long is the fact that we can see yearly repetitions like this and come up with a better idea of what the Martian environment is up to year after year.

Mars’ blue sunset is spectacular and well known to fans of the ‘red’ planet. But “what colour is the Martian sky?” is a question I’ve been asked more than once by those less familiar with Mars. And it’s a great question! Sometimes – like in this picture or the cloud picture above, the sky looks more blue, almost like earth’s sky. But at other times, like in the selfie or the Mount Sharp panorama, it looks more orange or yellow. There’s a few factors behind this – often images are colour-corrected (‘white-balanced’) to show what a scene might look like under earth-like lighting. This can help scientists interpret features within a scene, making them look more familiar to better compare to earth, but doesn’t accurately represent what you might see if you were standing on the surface of Mars, which would be more of a yellowy-orange sky.

Except when you get close to the sun, like in this sunset picture. Much like how earth’s scatters light, giving us a blue sky, so too does dust in the Martian atmosphere, but the blue wavelengths of light mostly scatter forwards, so the blue colour appears closer to the sun. As the sun sets, there is more atmosphere and more dust for the light to scatter through, so that blue effect near the sun becomes more pronounced. 

I’m going to finish with this absolute stunner of an image, which combines two NavCam (Navigation camera) mosaics of the same scene, one taken in the morning and one in the afternoon. They were combined to show different landscape features that are highlighted as the sun illuminates some regions and casts others into shadow. After talking about the colours of Mars, you may be wondering what gives this image its striking blue and yellow palette. The NavCams on Curiosity only take pictures in black and white – colour was added to this image after the fact to highlight the lighting changes, with blue showing morning features, yellow showing evening features, and their combination showing just that – a combination of the two. This picture is looking back down Mount Sharp towards the crater rim in the distance, and it seems like a fitting image to close this blogpost on, looking back over the last great 10 years with Curiosity.

So Long and Thanks for All the Clouds

 

 

As the saying goes, everything that has a beginning has an end. Many students in my lab have had the opportunity to work on the Curiosity mission over the last ten years and it has been one of the great joys of my career to see those students grow into capable and confident colleagues trusted by their peers the world over who work with them on the mission. But, inevitably, students complete their degrees or move on to other projects and opportunities. For Charissa Campbell, a PhD student who has been working on the mission since 2016 she has an opportunity to lead the science case for an instrument called MAPLE that could contribute to Environmental Science in a future planetary mission.
(Animation Above: the sun sets at Gale Crater on Sol 312 of the mission)

By Charissa Campbell 

Over the past 5 years, I’ve been a part of the Mars Science Laboratory (MSL, Curiosity) team, specifically the Environmental working group (ENV). The ENV team is responsible for managing any environmental observations which includes any cloud or dust devil imaging. During my time with the group I got the opportunity to help plan several sols (Martian day) of operations. This includes advocating for different ENV observations that are used to characterize the environment around Curiosity’s location, Gale Crater.

Our research group helps maintain different ENV observations that use the Navigation Cameras (Navcams) to observe atmospheric aerosols. This includes the Zenith Movie (ZM, an eight frame movie observing movement directly above the rover), Supra-horizon Movie (SHM, an eight frame movie looking above the horizon), Line of Sight (LOS, a single image capturing the crater rim), Phase Function Sky Survey (PFSS, 9 three frame movies observing aerosols at a variety of pointings) and Cloud Altitude Observation (CAO, 2 eight frame movies intending to capture cloud and shadow motion). The first three (ZM, SHM, LOS) have been a part of the mission for several Mars Years (MYs) and are great for monitoring cloud and dust over the course of a MY. The PFSS and CAO are on the newer side and are only performed in the cloudy season. The most recent cloudy season just finished and now we are preparing for the dust season which brings increased dust and dust-devils in the crater.

When I first started on the mission, I helped maintain the cadence of the ZM and SHM. This includes advocating their cadence (every 2-3 sols) and keeping an eye out for any aerosol activity. The cloudy season on Mars is very consistent year to year so it is relatively easy to predict when we’d expect to see more activity. Coming up to my first cloudy season, I found a pair of early morning movies that captured wispy clouds like Mares’ Tails seen here on Earth (shown below). The uniqueness and beauty of these clouds earned a press release (https://mars.nasa.gov/resources/8866/clouds-sailing-overhead-on-mars-enhanced/?site=msl). Since I was still fresh on the mission, I was excited and anxious for the opportunity. It received plenty of press and I enjoyed reading the various comments left by the public.

 

 

Over the next few years I continued to advocate for ENV observations but I was also given the opportunity to help develop a new observation. On sol 1787 a Dust-Devil Movie (DDM) was aimed at Mt. Sharp (Aeolis Mons) and instead of capturing dust-devils, it observed shadows moving across the mountain. This was caused by clouds moving overhead which was confirmed by the ZM that followed. A DDM pointed at Mt. Sharp posed a unique opportunity to measure the direct velocity and altitude of the overhead clouds by determining how fast the shadows move with respect to the mountain. Digital Terrain Models (DTMs) have been created for Mars which provide an x, y, z coordinate for every point in Gale Crater. By noting where on the mountain the shadow starts and ends between the first and last frames, a velocity can be calculated. When a paired ZM is used to calculate the angular spacing and velocity of the clouds above, we can get the velocity and altitude of the clouds. Typically, this parameter is found using a lidar which was demonstrated by the Phoenix lander (https://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/phoenix/images/press/Lidar_Fall_Streaks_SD_001.html). However, Curiosity isn’t equipped with a lidar so we must use alternative approaches to calculate altitude.

Taking what we learned about the DDM and ZM combination, we went ahead and created the CAO. Within this parent observation is the Cloud Shadow Movie (CSM) and ZM. The CSM would be the DDM but optimized to bring out shadows. This includes increasing the frame size for more mountain coverage. This frame size was also applied to the ZM. Once the CAO was optimized , it was tested on Curiosity before becoming an official observation that the ENV team can plan. As of today, we have officially completed 3 MY worth of CAO data.

Analyzing the most recent set showed a unique pair of shadow and clouds that were not seen before in a CAO. Shown below, both movies show turbulent clouds with large shadows that pass over the rover before going up the mountain. I decided to showcase this set at the most recent Curiosity team meeting where I showed my cloud altitude results. The movies seemed to be a hit that they became a press release  (https://mars.nasa.gov/resources/26557/curiosity-captures-drifting-clouds-on-dec-12-2021/?site=msl). It made me extremely happy to have another set of movies released by JPL. I will be leaving the Curiosity team in the next few months to focus on my other PhD projects, so it is bittersweet to start and end my time on the mission with a press release.

 

It’s been a great honour to work with Curiosity data and especially help develop an observation that will continue to be captured in future cloud seasons. I want to thank the Curiosity team and all the current and past PVL members that have helped me. Good luck Curiosity! I hope you have many more cloudy seasons on the horizon.