The bright ring marking the planet’s disk is somethihg else. Sunlight grazing the planet’s atmosphere will get refracted around the “edge”, giving rise to the edge effect as seen from Cassini’s position in the shadow. If Saturn had no atmosphere, that ring would not be there.

In a total lunar eclipse (not an annular, where the sun’s disk peeks around the moon’s limb) there is no ring.

Note that in this Don Dixon painting, the artist has not painted the rings to be in total shadow.

The reason we can still see the Moon during a solar eclipse is because of sunlight reflecting off the Earth, thus lighting the Moon. It’s called Earthlight.

There is no large planetary body behind Cassini to light the darkside of Saturn. So unless the rings act like a fiber optic array you shouldn’t be able to see it.

No?

After I put the high-rez Saturn image on the moderately-big screen, and stood in front of it instead of sitting, I did experience the sense of looking out a viewport, looking down from above the ecliptic, in a wide panorama that let me hold the entire Saturnian system between my outstretched arms. And the image being “Raoul-sized”, the illusion was nearly perfect, as I could focus in and details like the rings would resolve, just as they would if I’d actually been there.

And being there is what it’s all about. Our robotic surrogates are prostheses, extending our senses out billions of miles. Our senses mediate the reality right under our noses, so what difference does it make if there’s a robot and a radio link intermediate between us and Saturn? I got to be there through that image. It worked.

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.

I have the natural-ish color version displayed on the HD display in the living room, with the lights dimmed. Every time I walk through I lose several minutes, transfixed once again by Saturn. I think I’ll leave that image in place as the new wallpaper. Thanks for decorating my living room, Rob.