Flipping through that scrapbook took me back those ten years. I remember that summer as uncomfortably hot, with plenty of hungry mosquitoes. Although collision dates for the 20-odd fragments were predicted well in advance, there was much anticipation and great uncertainty about what, if anything, would be seen. This was still early in the history of the internet: telnet and newsgroups delivered the latest information. Ftp (Remember that?) was used to retrieve data and images. The first online reports of “no observable effects” were premature. Cable news provided the first accurate reports of impact effects.

It was nearly a week after the first impacts that skies here cleared enough for a view of Jupiter low in the western evening sky. Dark splotches differing in size and appearance circled around the planet and were easily visible in small telescopes.  Jupiter resembled a bowling ball, and sketches had to be made quickly before Jupiter’s rotation altered the scene. Simple programs, freely distributed on the internet, enabled you to identify which fragment caused which spot. Clouds permitting, I was able to observe and sketch through Labor Day. By then, impact spots were sheared into a dark band encircling Jupiter’s southern hemisphere.

Jupiter has long since recovered, but how has amateur astronomy changed in these last ten years? I’ll guess your favorite telescope nowadays is bigger than the one you used a decade ago. Optics are larger, more varied and more affordable as are their accessories. Battles continue with sky glow and light pollution, and are sometimes won, but more often lost. Star gazers today gather at star parties that have become more numerous and regional. Astro-tourism is a recognized industry. The web is the now the main source of information, images and news. Magazines and newsletters have had to adapt and become timelier. Laptops and LCD projectors have revolutionized meeting presentations. But I’ll wager that the biggest single change in amateur astronomy has been digital imaging. As results become ever more spectacular, astrophotography continually becomes easier. 

What will amateur astronomy be like in 2014? I have no heavenly idea, but no doubt certain thing won’t change. With experience comes observing skill and knowledge. You can’t buy your way into this hobby nor learn everything from a book. There will always be uncertain weather forecasts and aggravation when clouds roll in. The frustration of finding the faint target galaxy will surely be rewarded by the glimpse a distant supernova on the computer screen. We will still feel unimportant and insignificant standing under a Milky Way stretching from one horizon to another. And then there’s the mosquitoes, which are more than compensated for by the accomplishment of bagging that final Messier object. Even better is the satisfaction of showing a neighbor Saturn through a telescope you built. Or the enjoyment of commiserating with fellow star gazers in the rain at a star party.

No equations or telescope allow us to see ahead ten years. Unlike the decadal plans that guide professional astronomers' careers, amateur astronomy just happens: borrowing technology, taking advantage of new materials, and by the driving ingenuity and enthusiasm of star gazers. The comet crash is just one of a number of opportunities to reminisce this summer: the club’s first decade, presidential memoirs and farewells, and war memorials. Even last month's transit of Venus had us looking back across the centuries. Transit day was a great kick-off to a summer of star gazing. Before you know it, summer's haze and humidity will give way to crisp fall skies. Keep looking up and remember the bug spray. 

The internet can be a time machine of sorts. Try a Google search on Shoemaker Levy 9, and you’ll be surprised at the information still available at JPL and SEDS web sites. Even Dance of the Planets (source of the top image)  is still available--download this MSDOS program for a thoroughly retro comet crash experience.