There's plenty of summer left in the evening skies of September, and with earlier sunsets, you can get some great stargazing in without a late bedtime.

By mid-September, it will be dark enough by 8:30 p.m. to do some decent stargazing. There's a little more chill in the air, but all in all, you'll have a good time making the stars your old friends.

There's a summer hangover in the Butler evening skies called the Summer Triangle. Right after evening twilight, crane your neck to the overhead zenith, or better yet, lie back on the ground on a blanket or a reclining lawn chair and look up.

Now that you're more comfortable, you should easily see the Summer Triangle overhead. Just look for the three brightest stars you can see.

Now, the Triangle is not a constellation per se. Instead, it's what we in the stargazing business call an "asterism." This asterism is made up of three stars from three separate constellations, each star being the brightest in its constellation.

The brightest star of the trio — and second brightest star that evening — will be Vega, the franchise of the small constellation Lyra the Harp. It's a large blue star more than 145 trillion miles away. While Vega is a grand star, there isn't a whole lot to Lyra the harp. Just look for a small dim parallelogram next to Vega, and that's about it.

The next brightest star in the summer triangle is Altair, the brightest in Aquila the Eagle. Altair is at the corner of a big diamond that outlines the wingspan of Aquila, the evil eagle that acted as a hitman — or should I say "hit bird" — for Zeus, the king of the gods.

The dimmest member of the Summer Triangle, Deneb, is actually the most noteworthy star of the trio.

It's certainly the farthest in distance — at least 1,500 light-years away, with one light-year equaling about six trillion miles. The light we see from Deneb left that star at least as early as the year 500.

When you stargaze, always remember that not only are you looking through tremendous distances, you're also looking back through time. Deneb is the brightest star in the constellation Cygnus the Swan, but more people see Cygnus as "the Northern Cross" with Deneb at the head of the cross.

In the low southern skies are the classic summer constellations Scorpio the Scorpion and Sagittarius the Archer.

Scorpius resides in the southwestern sky and is one of those constellations that actually looks like what it's supposed to be. There's a dark red star called Antares at the heart of the beast, more than 600 light-years away. The light we see from Antares left that star even before Galileo was born.

Next door, to the left of the scorpion in the low southern sky, is a constellation that doesn't look at all like what it's supposed to be. Sagittarius is supposed to be a half-man, half-horse shooting an arrow, but most stargazers see it by its nickname, the Teapot. Sagittarius also is in the direction of the center of our Milky Way galaxy, a little less than 30,000 light-years away. In the upper left corner of the Teapot's handle is a star called Nunki, pronounced Nun-key. It's one of my favorite star names.

Over in the northwestern sky, the Big Dipper is hanging by its handle, beginning its annual autumn descent in the evening sky. The fainter Little Dipper is standing on its handle in the mid-northern sky with Polaris, the North Star, at the end of its handle. Contrary to what you might think, the North Star is not the brightest star in the sky. The brightest star at this time is Arcturus, an orange-tinged star in Bootes the Hunting Farmer. Bootes actually looks more like a kite hanging in the western sky with Arcturus at the tail of the kite.

Just as evening darkness sets in, you'll see what looks like a much brighter star on the rise in the eastern sky. That's no star; that's Jupiter, our largest planet in the solar system. It's nearly at its closest approach to Earth this month. Jupiter will be dominant all through autumn, and I'll spend a lot more time talking about the king of the planets in next week's Skywatch.

Mike Lynch is an amateur astronomer and professional broadcast meteorologist for WCCO Radio in Minneapolis and is author of the book, "Pennsylvania Starwatch," available at bookstores and at his Web site www.lynchandthestars.com.