I've chased the 'false dawn' for years — this is the week to find and photograph it
September's new moon opens a dark window for seeing zodiacal light, the ghostly cone of interplanetary dust that rises above the eastern horizon before dawn.
Some stargazing feels like you know exactly what you are looking for, but you're still slightly unsure whether you are actually seeing it. Zodiacal light — meaning "light from the circle of animals" — is often like that.
I have chased this so-called "false dawn" for years, and the first few minutes are always the same. I stare toward the horizon and wonder whether the sky is genuinely brighter there, or whether I am simply seeing distant light pollution, the first hint of morning twilight, or something my eyes have invented because I badly want to see it.
However, under a genuinely dark sky — and particularly in a long-exposure image — its cone shape becomes obvious.
Zodiacal light is enormous. It appears as a broad, softly glowing pyramid rising from the horizon. It can be fainter than the Milky Way and has no hard edges, which is precisely why it is so easy to overlook.
This week is a particularly good time to try because the new moon occurs on Sept. 10-11. With no moonlight interfering with the predawn sky, the main problems become familiar ones to any skywatcher: clouds, haze and artificial light.
The phenomenon itself could hardly be more epic. Zodiacal light is sunlight scattered by dust spread through the inner solar system, concentrated broadly around the plane in which the planets orbit. From Earth, we see that dusty structure edge-on along the ecliptic — the path through the sky followed by the sun, moon and planets. It's home, of course, to the 12 (actually 13) constellations of the zodiac — from Pisces the fish to Leo the lion. This is the circle of animals.
From the Northern Hemisphere around the September equinox, dust-hunting observers should look east before morning twilight, when the ecliptic rises steeply away from the horizon, and the faint glow becomes easier to separate from the murk below. It will reach about 30 to 40 degrees above the horizon.
Zodiacal light is the solar system itself made faintly visible — and one of the most subtle and strangest sky sights of all.
What's happening and when to look
For observers at mid-northern latitudes, September mornings offer one of the year's best windows for spotting the "false dawn" — but it's not easy to see. The essential ingredients are an unobstructed eastern horizon (preferably over the ocean or a large body of water) and no light pollution. You'll need to start looking before astronomical twilight begins rather than waiting until the sky is already visibly brightening, which means getting up very early in a very dark place.
Check the time astronomical twilight begins at your location and aim to be outside before then, giving your eyes at least 20 to 30 minutes to adapt to the darkness. The zodiacal light should appear as a broad triangular glow, widest and brightest close to the horizon and narrowing as it climbs.
It's easy to confuse it with a distant town, but artificial skyglow tends to form a rounded dome above one location on the horizon. In contrast, zodiacal light reaches diagonally — or almost vertically upward — along the ecliptic.
Give your eyes time and save up that one vital ingredient, a vanishing human trait any skywatcher must constantly nurture — patience. Zodiacal light is not something you can walk outside and instantly see. It comes only to those who work for it.
How and when I'm photographing it
A little like a faint aurora, a camera almost always detects zodiacal light before your eyes become completely convinced. The easiest way is to use a tripod and a wide-angle lens, preferably something around 14-24mm, compose with plenty of eastern sky and include a simple foreground to make the triangular shape obvious. A starting point of around f/2.8, ISO 1600, and an exposure of roughly 10-20 seconds usually puts you in useful territory, though sky brightness and lens speed change everything.
Shoot RAW, focus manually on a bright star and capture a series of images. Then, once you've photographed it, try to stop looking at the screen — the entire point is to see it with your own eyes.
Stargazer's corner: September 11-18, 2026
With a new moon on Sept. 10, this week sees a run of dark evenings before our natural satellite gradually returns. On Sept. 14, look shortly after sunset for a slender waxing crescent moon beside Venus, extremely low in the western twilight. By Sept. 16-17, the moon moves on towards Antares, a reddish star at the heart of Scorpius. Then Sept. 18 brings a first quarter moon (perfect for exploring with binoculars or a small telescope) and Venus at the greatest brilliancy of its current apparition as the "Evening Star."
Constellation of the week: Orion
Orion is normally thought of as a winter constellation, so September seems an odd time to go looking for it. However, if you're venturing out to an extremely dark place to look for zodiacal light, you're going to be staring Orion in the face. In September, the Hunter is in the eastern sky before dawn, where its stars sit along the same general strip of sky occupied by the zodiacal light. Its famous belt stars will be up, as will be bright Sirius, below. This is one of the pleasures of observing before sunrise. The sky is effectively showing you a preview of another season. The constellations climbing in the September dawn are the ones Earth will face during winter evenings a few months from now. Jupiter and Mars will also be visible — right on the ecliptic where you'll also — hopefully — spy the "false dawn".
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Jamie is an experienced science and travel journalist, stargazer and eclipse chaser who writes about exploring the night sky, solar and lunar eclipses, the Northern Lights, moon-gazing, astro-travel, astronomy and space exploration. He is the editor of WhenIsTheNextEclipse.com, author of A Stargazing Program For Beginners, co-author of The Eclipse Effect, and a senior contributor at Forbes.