On 18 August 2014 16:12, Jeffrey Schwartz <schwartz.jeffrey@gmail.com> wrote:
On Mon, Aug 18, 2014 at 10:22 AM, Tim <tim@little-possums.net> wrote:

> The middle case is possibly the most interesting, with substantial
> light and some heat during the primary's "night" for much of each
> year.  If the companion was about 10 times further out but 20 times as
> luminous, it would contribute about 5% of the light and 20% of the
> heat.  That 5% light might not seem much in numbers, but indoor
> lighting is usually less than 1% as bright as daylight, so it would be
> much brighter than most artificial lighting.  Likewise the 20% heat
> influx would be enough to noticeably reduce heat loss during the
> (primary) night or add to warming during the day.
>
>
> One other thing to remember is that an F-class star puts out a fair
> bit more energy into ultraviolet than our Sun does.  UV-A in
> particular would be more intense at the surface of an otherwise
> Earth-like world, so beings not adapted to such flux would likely need
> to avoid exposing unprotected skin and eyes for too long.
>
>
> I hope this is a start towards some sort of help.

Awesome Tim..

Agreed.
 
Had one thing pop into my head, imagining this place...
https://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20071103192228AAGfyCD
"If the chlorophyll is placed under a strong light, especially one
with a lot of ultraviolet, it can look red due to a process called
"fluorescence," which is the release of absorbed energy in the form of
light. Chlorophyll fluoresces red light"

 
Oooh, good wrinkle.
 
[my apologies - interrupted while writing this - only getting back to it this morning]
 
Though of course the natives wouldn't 'see' that - only the visitors/PCs.
 
In my imagining......

I'm looking out the window of the Type-S, kicked back and relaxing in
the air conditioning. It's hot outside, and I can see the air rippling
over the tarmac I'm parked on. The "S" is parked with the nose facing
away from the star port, and out near the edge. There's berm around
the 3 sides, but I can see the double fences of the landing area, and
then the extraterritorial fence. In between is a grassy field, with a
few flowers.

Past that, the Sun is just over the horizon in the west, it's getting
toward "night", but the "Soon" (Sun/moon) , the second star is about
35 degrees above the horizon. It's kinda like the days on Earth where
you see the Sun and Moon at the same time, but you can't look at the
Soon directly.

The grassy field is green, with an odd yellowish tinge, and as I sit
in the cockpit enjoying a cold drink, the grass gets progressively
more golden and then begins to turn reddish, finally turning a glowing
pinkish as only the Soon is up. There are a few bushes, here and
there, and on the other side of the fence, perhaps 250 meters away, I
can see more bushes and a few trees, mostly "pine-ish"

The radio has been on in the background the whole time... or radios, I
guess, since one is tuned to star port ground guard freq, and the
other is on a local commercial station (FM 2330Mhz, WQMIX "The Mix")
and the DJ takes a moment between songs to remind tourists that they
need to be wary of the Soon's light, and to wear sunscreen in the
evenings as well. She then queues up a song that reminds me a lot of
Mike and the Mechanics "Par Avion", except it's being sung by a female
Vargr.

The Soon stays up another couple hours, during which time the planet's
moon comes by in nearly the same arc. It's a large moon, and there's a
partial eclipse for a couple kiloseconds or so. Nobody seems to really
care, since it happens to one degree or another every night. During
it, the light levels drop from a really bright full moon to a regular
night.

During the eclipse, though, a bunch of brightly colored flowers spring
out from the bushes. I'm intrigued, and rouse myself enough to find a
PRIS and sit on the edge of the airlock, enjoying the cooler night air
as I look toward the plants. The PRIS amplifies the light enough and
magnifies that I can clearly see the buds that haven't opened yet, and
as I watch, some slowly unfold.

Little rabbit-lizard-things come out from here and there - mostly from
under the bushes. They're about 25-30cm long, lizardish skin that is
covered with scales that seem to change color depending on the angle,
ranging from a deep red to a pale green. They've got big ears that
look like mushroom caps, one on each side of the head, and the eyes
are on a small 'stalk' that come off the forehead and rises high
enough to see over the caps. The eyes are close set together, and the
thing hop/crawls on four legs that look like the back legs of a
rabbit. I realize the close eyes giving stereoscopic vision is
important as one suddenly springs up in to the air on a huge
four-legged jump, and then a long (10cm) tongue lashes out, presumably
catching some kind of flying insect feeding from one of the flowers.

I do a quick walk around the "S" before calling it a night. Over on
the port side, the umbilical is still attached. The fuel fill earlier
chilled it, and ice formed, and now it's melting, leaving a small
puddle of water on the tarmac with a drip-drip-drip from the icicles
on the pipe. A small cloud of gnats (or suchlike) is flying around the
liquid and ignoring the ice. I wonder where they came from, and if one
of the lizard-bunnies is going to sneak through the fence to come
after them.

The ground rumbles a bit, and as I finish the walk around, I look up
for a moment as a Free Trader climbs for the sky, then decide it's
time for bed.
 
Marvellous.
 
You know, I might just give up... you've written more 'casually' there (only I'm sure it wasn't casual) than I managed in the entire morning yesterday... perhaps I'll just go back to the bibliography work I seem to be better at.  :-)
 
Thank you, that was really great.  And helpful.
 
tc