Sky Tour Astronomy Podcast for June 2026

This month’s episode is sponsored by Celestron, manufacturer of high-quality telescopes and an industry leader in developing exciting optical products with revolutionary technologies.
*****
I’m Kelly Beatty of Sky & Telescope magazine, and tonight we’re going on a tour of the stars and planets that you’ll see overhead during June. First we’ll watch Venus and Jupiter dance at dusk; time this month’s solstice; trace the Moon’s cycle of phases; watch for a stellar explosion; and track down a snake-handler in the early summer sky. So grab your curiosity, and come along on this month’s Sky Tour.

*****
This will be a month with no comets, no strong meteor showers, and no eclipses of the Sun or Moon. Bummer! But don’t worry, because the early-summer sky is still putting on a show for you.
Let’s start with a “planet dance” happening soon after sunset. For the past few months, you regular Sky Tour listeners know that Venus and Jupiter, the two brightest planets, have dominated the evening sky. Recently they’ve been drawing closer to each other, with Jupiter higher up, but slowly sinking, and Venus climbing upward from the western horizon. And on June 9th they come together in dramatic fashion. On that evening they’ll appear just 1½° apart — close enough to cover both with your thumb extended on an outstretched arm.
By then Venus will be the one higher up, and it’ll shine nine times brighter than Jupiter. But Jupiter is so much bigger, 12 times the diameter of Venus — so why is it so much dimmer? Well, Jupiter is 5× farther away than Venus, 560 million miles from us to be exact, and it’s now on the far side of the Sun. So not only is the sunlight reflecting off Jupiter much dimmer, but its distance greatly reduces how bright the King of Planets looks to our eyes.
You’ll probably hear about this close pairing of Venus and Jupiter elsewhere, no doubt with breathless commentary about how rare this is. Actually, no. All the bright planets move very close to the annual path that the Sun takes among the stars, called the ecliptic, and these planet pairings — called conjunctions — happen pretty often. For example, Venus and Jupiter were even closer together after sunset in March 2023 and before sunrise last August.
Anyway, until mid-June, when these two planets are dancing together, a third one — Mercury — will be lurking nearby. To spot it, start looking about 45 minutes after sunset. Make sure to find a spot with a clear, unobstructed view toward west. Then just follow an imaginary line connecting Venus and Jupiter to the lower right, close to the horizon. Hey, this will be your best chance of spotting Mercury after sunset for the rest of the year, so don’t pass up this easy opportunity.
And if you’re looking for Mars or Saturn, well, you’ll have to get up at least 45 minutes before dawn and look east. Now that means heading out about 4 or 5 a.m., OK? So if you have to choose one day this month to go looking, I’d pick June 11th. That’s when a pretty waning crescent Moon will be about halfway between Mars, to its lower left, and Saturn, to its right.
*****
For summer-lovers in the Northern Hemisphere, June is a great month. The solstice, when daylight is longest, comes on the 21st at 4:25 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time. At June’s solstice, the midday Sun passes directly overhead from anywhere along the Tropic of Cancer, which runs around our planet at a latitude of 23½° north. (Yep, that’s why this line is marked on a globe of Earth, along with the Tropic of Capricorn, which is 23½° south of the equator.)
But if you love to savor the night sky, this is a minimalist month because the nights are so short. And the farther north you are from the equator, the shorter they get. Here in Boston, dawn comes around 5 a.m., whereas down in Miami it’s around 6:30. And for most of us, evening twilight doesn’t end until 9 p.m. or later, which makes it tougher to observe — especially if you want to bring your kids along. 
Let’s take a moment to figure out where the Moon will be this month. Do you recall that there were full Moons on May 1st and again on May 31st? That means last quarter will be June 8th. New Moon follows on June 14th, and its delicately thin crescent will join Mercury, Venus, and Jupiter low in the west on the 16th and 17th. First quarter happens on June 21st, and then watch for the full Strawberry Moon on June 29th.
*****
During the first half of June, when strong moonlight will be absent from the evening sky, head outside after sunset, as twilight starts to deepen, and look over in the direction of where the Sun set. If you have a clear view toward west, you’ll see a couple of stars low over the horizon, just to the right of Venus and Jupiter and not nearly as bright. These are Gemini’s twins, the stars Pollux and Castor, side by side. Farther to the right, above the sunset point in the northwest, is a distinctive star called Capella. The bright star to the left of Venus and Jupiter, and a little higher up, is Regulus, the alpha star in the constellation Leo.
All of these stars are sinking from view night by night. They’re edging closer to the Sun, by about 1° per day. And why is that? Because Earth is racing around in its orbit, completing 360° in 365 days, or almost exactly 1° per day. So the Sun’s apparent position with respect to background stars is shifting at the same rate. By early July, Jupiter will be gone, and the only one of these four stars you can hope to see is Regulus.
After it gets good and dark, look well to the left of Regulus until you’re facing southwest, more or less. The bright star you see is usually called SPY-kuh (though I prefer SPEE-kuh). It’s the brightest star in Virgo, the Maiden, who’s lounging on her side across this stretch of sky. In any case, take a moment to check out Spica’s color. It’s a blue-white star shining 20,000 times brighter than our Sun at a superhot 40,000° Fahrenheit. Maybe it’s a good thing that Spica is 250 light-years away from us.
Now look higher up, by about three fists, almost overhead at nightfall, and you’ll see a really dazzling star called Arcturus. It ranks as the fourth brightest star in the nighttime sky. You probably know that #1 is Sirius, which has dropped out of sight in the west until later this year. And #2 and #3 on the list are Canopus and Alpha Centauri, which can’t be seen from the mid-northern latitudes where most of us live. So Arcturus is the brightest star you’ll see all summer. It’s a relatively old red-giant star about 37 light-years away from us. The gleam that’s reaching your eye right now left Arcturus in 1989, when George H.W. Bush was President and the world’s most popular movie was Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.
I’ve got a new constellation for you, or at least for most of you. Clench your fist and extend your arm. Look to the upper left of Arcturus by the width of two fists for a compact star pattern in the shape of a “U”. If you have a lot of light pollution, you might just see one star here, at the bottom of the U. That’s called Alphecca, an Arabic word that’s short for nayyir al-fakka — “the bright star of the broken ring of stars.” 
This broken ring is a constellation called Corona Borealis, the Northern Crown. In Greek mythology, it represented a jeweled crown worn by Ariadne during her marriage to Dionysus. He was also known as Bacchus, the god of wine-making, and Ariadne was the daughter of Minos of Crete. After the ceremony, Dionysus placed the crown in the heavens to commemorate their wedding. If you have dark skies, it’s a pretty grouping of stars surrounding Alphecca.
Astronomers have been watching this little constellation a lot lately. Well, actually they’re watching a faint star just off the crown’s lower-left corner. Called T Cor Bor, it’s roughly 3,000 light-years away and ordinarily dozens of times too faint to be seen by eye. But this is actually a tight stellar pair orbiting each other so closely that one star, a white dwarf, is sucking matter off the other. Over time, the white dwarf gets unstable from all that extra mass, and then it explodes as a violent nova and briefly becomes about 200,000 times brighter than our Sun — bright enough to be seen by eye. That’s why it’s sometimes called the Blaze Star. This hasn’t happened since 1946, and another blast is due any time now. When it goes “boom,” it might briefly become as bright as Alphecca. But it won’t last long, so stay alert!
*****
Let’s go back to Spica for a moment, and look about two fists to its left. Can you see a medium-bright star? And there’s another one to its upper left about one fist away. These mark the dim constellation of Libra [LEE-bruh], and they’re named Zubenelgenubi and Zubeneschamali. There’s nothing particularly noteworthy about these stars, but I just love saying their names. In Arabic, Zubenelgenubi means “the southern claw” and Zubeneschamali “the Northern claw.” Long ago they were considered part of the constellation Scorpius, which is rising to their left in the east. 
You’ll have to wait close to midnight to see all of Scorpius. A bright orange-hued star marks its heart. That’s called Antares. To its right are a roughly vertical row of three stars that mark the critter’s head. To the lower left of Antares, running down in a line that arcs upward on the left end, are stars that trace out the tail and stinger.
Now as long as we’re in this general area, let me help you track down a big constellation that you’ve probably never heard of. It’s called Ophiuchus, the Serpent Bearer. As with Libra, this is a huge chunk of celestial real estate without any really bright stars. So are you up for a starfinding challenge? Keep your eye on Antares and wait until about 11 p.m., or a little earlier at the end of June, then look 1½ fists to its upper left to reach the star Sabik [SAH-beek]. This is actually a double star, and technically the name applies to only one of those two stars. Whatever. 
Now go three fists above that, and a little left, to spot Rasalhague [Ras-al-HAYg], which is Arabic for “head of the Serpent charmer.” Ophiuchus is a big boxy constellation about three fists tall in the shape of a fat nose cone for a rocket. Rasalhague is at the pointy top, and Sabik marks the lower left corner. One oddity about Ophiuchus is that he’s holding a snake, the constellation Serpens, that’s actually in two pieces — with one half to his right and the other to his left. Serpens is the only constellation, out of all 88, that has this split personality.
*****
That’s about it for this month. If you want more tips for viewing the night sky, including a free, interactive star chart for any time or date, check out our website, SkyandTelescope.org.
If you haven’t already subscribed, you can find Sky Tour on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Stitcher, or wherever you listen. And if you’ve enjoyed listening, could you please leave a rating or a review? It will help spread the word about Sky Tour, and I really welcome your feedback.
And if you want to explore the solar system and universe more deeply, check out the full line of binoculars and telescopes available at Celestron.com.
Sky Tour is a production of Sky & Telescope, a division of the American Astronomical Society, and is produced by me, Kelly Beatty.
Next month I’ll tell you what the Brazilian flag has to do with astronomy. Until then, I wish you clear skies.