the sun’s son

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Holy Moly! The sun seems set on impressing us with its mighty power at the moment. Check out this incredible image of our star from Eduardo Schaberger Poupeau, taken on 2 February 2, 2026 in Rafaela, Provincia de Santa Fe, Argentina

Up on the left-hand side you can see monster sunspot AR4366, which formed rapidly from 30th of January into a beta‑gamma‑delta magnetic field configuration, which makes it highly volatile. It ballooned until it was composed of about 45 spots mushed together and currently is about 200,000 km across, or nearly 15 times Earth’s diameter. Right now it is continuing to grow.

It sparked into activity on 1 February, and the total of solar eruptions now stands at 4 X‑class (X8.1, X2.8, X1.6 X1.0), 40+ M‑class and 1 C‑class flares. Luckily, the sunspot wasn’t directly Earth-facing when all this kicked off, which means that any Coronal Mass Ejections accompanying the flares will only graze our planet’s magnetosphere, provoking minor geomagnetic storms on the 4-5 February.

Since AR4366 is rotating into direct view of our planet, if it flashes out more flares we’re likely to see spectacular visions in our night skies.

Keep watching the heavens!

The above image illustrates a tragic ancient story of remote fathers, youthful overreach, and the destructive power of the sun.

According to Ovid, in Metamorphoses1, Phaethon (and his seven sisters) were the children of the solar god Helios and the Oceanid nymph Klymene. Interestingly, Klymene was married to Merops, the King of Aethiopia, yet her children were considered the divine progeny of the Sun; Merops never gainsayed Klymene’s stories of a divine lover.

Phaethon, a beautiful prince, raised to believe his father was Helios, bragged of his parentage to anyone who would listen, including his chum Epaphus — who was the attested son of Zeus and Io. (Having a notoriously profligate and absentee father who treated his mother horribly must have made Phaethon’s story hard to bear.)

Epaphus, sick of his pal’s boasting, and seeing only evidence of a mortal father who was present in Phaethon’s life, called him out:

Thou tak’st thy mother’s word too far, said he,
And hast usurp’d thy boasted pedigree.
Go, base pretender to a borrow’d name.

Humiliated and furious, Phaethon ran back to his Ma, demanding proof. Klymene swore it was the truth, and suggested Phaeton confront his father; she directed Phaethon to Helios’ Eastern Mansion (in India).

In his golden palace, bright Helios sat upon a throne of blazing gems, surrounding by the personification of Days, Months, Years, and the Four Seasons. Upon seeing Phaeton for the first time, Helios instantly claimed Phaeton as his son.

Phaethon asked his Dad for a favour to impress Epaphus. Helios, caught up in the moment of happy reunion, promised him anything, and Phaeton asked to drive Helios’ fiery chariot across the sky for a day.

Helios tried to dissuade Phaethon, and described the taxing burden:

There is not one of all the Gods that dares
(However skill’d in other great affairs)
To mount the burning axle-tree, but I;
Not Jove himself, the ruler of the sky,
That hurles the three-fork’d thunder from above,
Dares try his strength: yet who so strong as Jove?
The steeds climb up the first ascent with pain,
And when the middle firmament they gain,
If downward from the Heav’ns my head I bow,
And see the Earth and Ocean hang below,
Ev’n I am seiz’d with horror and affright,
And my own heart misgives me at the sight.

The descent in the evening was another dreadful, difficult prospect. Helios described the dangers in stark detail, and reminded his semi-divine son that the daily drive across the sky required all of Helios’ considerable expertise and prowess.

Phaethon would not be dissuaded, and with the confidence of an over-praised and indulged youth, jumped into the seat of the chariot. Caught by his oath, Helios anointed his son in protective oils and instructed Phaethon quickly in the art of driving the burning chariot and its radiant, powerful steeds across the heavens.

Completely unprepared for the task, Phaethon immediately lost control of the immense energy, and the ungoverned horses galloped off the normal track towards the Earth.

Lands, mountains and forests burst into flames and entire kingdoms incinerated. The world became a furnace under the searing wheels of Phaeton’s wayward chariot.

Alight, and also boiled by the seas, the Earth cried out to Zeus, demanding intervention:

If Heav’n, and Earth, and sea, together burn,
All must again into their chaos turn.
Apply some speedy cure, prevent our fate,
And succour Nature, ere it be too late.”

To prevent the cremation of existence, Zeus flung an unerring lightning bolt at Phaeton, instantly killing the young man, and destroying the chariot.

Phaethon’s blasted corpse plummeted to the ground like a comet.

A tomb was raised for the misguided youth, and the gods mourned his loss, but none wailed as much as Klymene and Phaethon’s sisters.

Caught up in their grief, the seven sisters remained rooted around the grave, until they transformed into poplar trees. Their golden amber tears rolled down their trunks and into the River Eridanos. Klymene was utterly bereft.

Heartbroken, Helios refused to take up the reins of his reconstituted chariot. Night ruled the world for a period, soothing the charred Earth, but denying true recovery.

Zeus made excuses, entreated, and finally threatened Helios to return to his duty.

Prevail’d upon at length, again he [Helios] took
The harness’d steeds, that still with horror shook,
And plies ’em with the lash, and whips ’em on,
And, as he whips, upbraids ’em with his son.

Zeus, returning the world to rights, followed his familiar selfish, ruinous pattern, and spied another nymph to trick…

Let’s not end on a sour note, so I’ll add a excerpt of an Orphic Hymn to Helios. The Orphic Hymns consist of eighty-seven hymns to Greek gods, which were attributed to the legendary Orpheus: poet, prophet, and musician.

Perhaps this ancient poem will soothe our agitated sun, grieving an old wound:

HEAR golden Titan, whose eternal eye
With broad survey, illumines all the sky.
Self-born, unwearied in diffusing light,
And to all eyes the mirrour of delight:
Lord of the seasons, with thy fiery car
And leaping coursers, beaming light from far:
With thy right hand the source of morning light,
And with thy left the father of the night.
Agile and vig’rous, venerable Sun,
Fiery and bright around the heav’ns you run.
Foe to the wicked, but the good man’s guide,
O’er all his steps propitious you preside:
With various founding, golden lyre, ‘tis mine
To fill the world with harmony divine.

Translated by Thomas Taylor (1792)