Why orbits are ellipses and not circles
For nearly two thousand years the circle was not a finding but an assumption. Planets were heavenly, heavenly things were perfect, and perfect motion was circular. When the observations refused to fit, astronomers added more circles rolling on circles rather than question the shape.
What broke it was Mars. Johannes Kepler inherited Tycho Brahe's observations, the most precise made before the telescope, and spent years fitting a circular orbit to them. He got one that worked to within eight minutes of arc, about a quarter of the width of the full Moon. Any earlier astronomer would have called that a triumph. Kepler knew Tycho's measurements were better than eight arcminutes, so the leftover error had to be real. Those eight arcminutes, he later wrote, pointed the way to reforming the whole of astronomy.
The curve that fitted was an ellipse with the Sun at one focus, not at the centre. An ellipse has two foci; the Sun sits at one and there is nothing at all at the other. This is why a planet's distance from the Sun changes over its year: nearest at perihelion, furthest at aphelion. Mars, at an eccentricity of 0.093, swings from 1.381 to 1.666 astronomical units. That is the deviation Kepler could see in the numbers.
Isaac Newton later showed why it must be so. Any two bodies attracting each other with a force falling off as the square of the distance move on conic sections: ellipse, parabola or hyperbola. The ellipse is not a curiosity, it is what inverse-square gravity produces for anything gravitationally bound. Circles are the special case where eccentricity happens to be zero, and nothing in the Solar System is exactly that.
This simulator therefore draws every orbit as its true ellipse. Look at Mercury, at an eccentricity of 0.206, and you can see the Sun sitting well off centre. Turn on Pluto, at 0.249, and its orbit is so elongated that for twenty years out of every 248 it is closer to the Sun than Neptune.