LED Streetlamps – A new Hope for Dark
Skies?
Street lamps
the way they once were, nice but dim – in Hyde Park.
I grew up on a curved side street of red-brick houses in a
Garden City suburb, a street with large front gardens and broad grass verges. The
street was built in the 1950s, but the streetlamps could have been from Holmes’
London: cast from iron and painted green, with fluted columns and curling swan
necks, they were beautiful objects. I thought the dim golden glow they
produced, apparently from a single incandescent light bulb in each one, rather
wonderful. Below each lamp was a little pool of light with big dark spaces in
between. They produced so little light that the gardens were all quite dark and
perfect for star gazing.
Then, sometime in the early 1970s, the council ripped my
romantic streetlights out. It started on the main road. Strange tall monsters
sprouted along it, giving out a weird sickly orange light that seemed to invade
every nook and cranny and washed all natural colour before it. Sodium had
arrived. At first I was impressed by these darkness-banishing lights up on the
main road, a sign of progress. Then they came to our street and I hated them
and their bilious monochrome light.
By the time I got seriously into astronomy in my teens, the
whole town had them. Every cast-iron streetlight had been pulled from the
verges, every back street and cul-de-sac suffused with a sodium glow. I bought
7x50 binoculars, but all they showed me was more sodium in the sky. That’s how
Britain’s towns and cities have been ever since. I even saw a hint of sodium
creeping onto the base of the clouds at a dark sky site recently. My own skies
are much less dark than when I moved here less than twenty years ago and the
merest hint of haze turns the sky orange. I know some imagers love sodium – two
narrow band you can filter out. But for visual it’s a nightmare and I’m sorry
but to me a dark sky means one where you can see the stars.
This snap of
a recent conjunction (Mars, Jupiter, Venus) shows the sodium in my skies.
No hope for us romantics who like to look at a starry sky then? Was the darkness that had forced the
eighteenth century science society known as the ‘Lunar Men’ to meet only at
full Moon now banished from the British countryside forever? So I thought …
Then last year I noticed a small cluster of new streetlights
down a steep lane near where I live. These lights were very different from any
of the existing ones around because they only throw their light downwards. Even
the capped sodium lights higher up the same street fill the trees with light
and pointlessly illuminate every roof tile, but these new ones leave everything
above them completely dark. The reason of course is that they use rows of directional
LEDs, set into a horizontal plate, so that every photon does its job of
illuminating the tarmac and nothing else (though some are still bound to bounce
back upwards).
I was unreasonably thrilled:
overnight, the light pollution from a tiny part of one small English village
was much reduced.
At first I thought these new LED lights were specific to that
one location, perhaps paid for by the rich residents in the big houses around
to keep their bedrooms dark. Then I noticed the council were fitting the same
ones in a close of new starter homes nearby. A year on and most of the sodium
is gone and my skies are noticeably darker, imaging or visual. The orange
shoreline lights across the bay are gradually winking out too.
LED
Streetlamps: brilliant illumination, but only on the road!
Sodium streetlamps
on the same lane illuminate everything around and above, as this foggy shot
shows.
A few months later I noticed another change. Leaving a
childhood friend’s house in my hometown late one evening, I was met with
darkness: unfamiliar and profound. I thought there must have been a power cut.
But as I stumbled out of the front gate and homewards, thankful for my torch, I
found almost the whole town was in pitch darkness. Just a single light had been
left on at each junction. My friend explained later that in the years I’d been
away the council had started switching off the streetlights at Midnight. Now my
hometown was so dark that it reminded me of how night-time travel must have
been for the Lunar Men: much darker even than when those old cast-iron streetlamps
cast their friendly silver pools.
If I’m honest, though, the extreme darkness of my familiar
home streets in the small hours was a bit scary. I found myself walking fast
and furtive. Still, it’s great news for astronomers. I’m excited and hopeful
that councils will roll these energy saving measures out everywhere to let
astronomers in towns and cities view and image the deep sky – in the small
hours at least.
Someone working in outreach at a dark sky centre told me
recently that they regularly meet urban kids who have scarcely seen a star,
never mind the Milky Way. If so, that’s really sad. Perhaps, though, it’s a
last-century problem that new technology will soon erase. Maybe cheap-to-run
LEDs will give us our dark skies back, visually at least. And perhaps
whole-scale switch-offs at midnight will become more common too - something
good for all astronomers, imagers or observers.
Mist and
sodium glow obscure a starry sky