What is it about astronomical photography that we find so captivating? It's not just color or form, like in abstract art. After all, we get that in photomicrographs of mineralogical and biological specimens. Those pictures are intersting, even appealing, but not like this.

We are also intellectually aware that Hubble or spacecraft imagery, even that from ground-based instruments, is highly processed, and portrays colors perhaps invisible to human eyes. But there is still that sense of awe or discovery, as if we somehow know now what we really see. We even imagine ourselves huddled around the viewport of a starship, looking out at a sight never before glimpsed by human eyes, even if we really know better that that's not what it would really look like if we were actually there.

Some of the most beautiful astrophographs ever taken were done with with the Hooker 100 inch reflector, using the old Kodak 103a-0 red-sensitive emulsion plates, back in the 1920s. They were panchromatic (b&w), but something about the time exposure, the development chemistry, and the anonymous lab tech who knew exactly what he was doing created the perfect reciprocity, contrast, and visual texture.

It doesn't look that way when you peer through the eyepiece, or when you inspect the highly enhanced CCD image, but in every case, your mind knows you are looking at the face of God.