Recent Work - Images | Kevin Palmer

Just before midnight the crescent moon rose east of Devils Tower. Smoke or haze near the horizon gave the moon an orange color.

Tower Moonrise

The last climbers repelled down the south face of Devils Tower soon after twilight faded. First Perseus rose to the northeast, followed by Arcturus, the 4th brightest star in the sky. Satellites slowly came and went while meteors vaporized at a much faster speed. The aurora painted its colors on an invisible canvas, undetectable to my eye for the most part. One glow soon replaced another when the crescent moon rose at midnight. In many previous visits I’ve scouted all over the national monument looking for the best vantage points. This patch of prairie that I marked on my map is barely within the park boundary. Dodging deadfall, making my way across a steep slope and up and over a cliff is hard enough during the day, doubly so at night. I kept waiting for a big aurora display to give me a reason to come back here. That never happened, despite the forecast. But even an ordinary night is worth experiencing at an extraordinary place like this. Those who only visit Devils Tower during the day miss out on half the scenery.

More Than a Meteor

As son as it got dark, the core of the Milky Way galaxy was centered directly behind Devils Tower.

Galactic Monolith

There is a lot happening at the local pond at 2AM. This image shows the stars apparent movement in 45 minutes time. The aurora glowed to the north in hues of red and green. Meteors burned up in the atmosphere. Satellites and airplanes flew past. It was far from quiet with flapping waterfowl, croaking frogs, and a splashing beaver. Startrail reflections are like mini seismographs, recording ripples in the water. With no wind, all the disturbances are from the beaver splashing.

Beaver Pond Startrails

Darkness could not come soon enough. Reports of the northern lights were coming in from across the eastern US. Standing on a cliff nearly 1,000 feet above Meadowlark Lake, this was a spot I’d been wanting to spend the night for a long time. The highest peaks of the Bighorn Mountains stood to the north, including Cloud Peak dead center. Aurora chasing mostly involves a whole lot of waiting. Waiting for the right space weather forecast, clear skies, moon phase, and for the sun to go down. Even when conditions seem perfect the aurora can come and go at the drop of a hat. When darkness arrived, so did the clouds, along with a brief rain shower. When the clouds faded, so did the northern lights. But finally just before 1AM the glow returned. A substorm sent red and purple pillars halfway to the North Star, reflected in the water far below. It did not last long before the moon rose and drowned out the lights. Even though the display wasn’t as good as it could have been, moments like this are always worth staying up for.

Midnight at Meadowlark

All was quiet at 3AM in the pleasantly cool air. It felt like I was the only one awake. I was at my ‘lazy’ aurora watching spot, where I go when I don’t feel like driving far. For hours, a southward-oriented solar wind stream had been pouring energy into Earth's magnetic field. It's these conditions that eventually lead to a geomagnetic storm. Moonlight, as well as smoke from a new forest fire were conspiring to hide the glow. But after waiting for a bit the northern sky finally broke out into pillars. The colors could not be seen with the eye but the greens, reds, and purples showed up well on camera. Just when I was about to leave I heard the train horn. The crossing gate went down and soon I could feel the rumble and wind as the train cars rushed past me. I’ve never captured a moving train at night, but this was the perfect time to try. The empty train was heading north to pick up a load of coal from the mines. It turns out I wasn’t the only one awake.

Northbound Train

Paved roads were few and far between. Cell phone signal was non-existent. Hills and bluffs sometimes blocked the view. Mosquitoes swarmed around me and stubborn cows formed a roadblock. These are some of the challenges of chasing storms in Montana. Elsewhere crowds of storm chasers may converge on a supercell. But here it’s not uncommon to be the only one on a storm, and I feel an extra responsibility to report what I see to the National Weather Service. When everything comes together just right the supercells here can be truly incredible. This storm first went up over the Crazy Mountains before tracking east along the Musselshell River, into a part of Big Sky Country I’d never been. It was one of the roundest, most obviously rotating supercells I've ever seen. Evening sunlight snuck in underneath to turn the hail shaft gold. Just when the storm was at its most photogenic I came upon this scene of an abandoned house on the open prairie. It was exactly what I was looking for.

Melstone Supercell

Not every lunar eclipse is the same. Each one varies depending on which part of Earth’s shadow (called the umbra) that the moon passes through. Atmospheric conditions on Earth also influence the view. Lingering exhaust from the massive volcanic eruption in Tonga in January helped make this eclipse darker and redder than usual. In Wyoming, totality started during twilight. The extra light revealed more details in the landscape. Then after twilight ended, thousands of stars came out, along with stripes of green airglow. A dark sky and a full moon, normally enemies of each other, were seen together for just a few minutes before normal moonlight returned.<br />
While the lower slopes of the Bighorn Mountains are now a vibrant green, up here at Powder River Pass, winter is still hanging on. Nearly 10,000 feet above sea level, temperatures still drop below freezing at night even in mid-May.

Blood Moon In A Dark Sky

Powder River Pass Eclipse

Every clear night between December and April, Orion has a close encounter with Devils Tower just before it sets. It was a shot I've had in mind for awhile, but I waited until March to pay a visit so I could capture it at a more reasonable time and temperature. Beneath the 3 belt stars is found Orion's Sword. It also goes by the name Messier 42, NGC1976, or simply the Orion Nebula. As the brightest nebula in northern hemisphere skies, it is easily seen with the naked eye away from light pollution. Larger in angular size than the moon, it looks spectacular in even a small telescope. If you zoom in to the belt star of Alnitak (pierced by a satellite trail), the Flame Nebula is on the left, with the Horsehead located below. Between finding the right overlook, aligning the star tracking mount, shooting dozens of long exposures, and hours of editing, “deepscape” photos like this are always more complex than any other type I create. But I love showing a commonly photographed landmark in an uncommon way. When thin clouds started to roll in I almost stopped shooting, but I ended up liking the halo effect.

Orion Close Encounter

While the world may be chaotic and unpredictable, there's something reassuring about being out under the stars. When I look up I'm gazing at the same constellations that humans have marveled at for thousands of years. Their steady motion brings a sense of order, knowing exactly which stars will be where each night. In a 24 hour period, a star's position in Earth's sky will change by 4 minutes (known as a sidereal day). It makes planning shots like this over the Bighorn Mountains easy. No constellation is more widely visible around the world than Orion. And it's much more than just a belt and shield. A long exposure reveals faint details and colors that the naked eye could never see. Nebulas like Barnard's Loop, the Flame, Horsehead, Seagull, and Rosette are all hiding in plain sight, in wavelengths of light beyond human vision. All these wonders of space were never known until someone invented cameras sensitive enough to see them.

Orion Beyond the Bighorns

From comets, to lightning, northern lights, and meteors, I've amassed a collection of photos of one of my favorite local mountains at night. But I lacked a moonshot. The 7,877 foot peak named Steamboat Point is topped with dramatic cliffs of dolomite. You can't tell from this distance but the boulders below the cliff face are bigger than houses. Because of the position of the viewpoints, a full moon can only be seen rising over the mountain in the winter months. Unlike the sun, a full moon rises north of due east in the winter. In January it is called the Wolf Moon. While wolves do not currently live in the Bighorn Mountains, they have been seen before. The snow conditions at this elevation were highly variable with lots of bare ground as well as big snow drifts. After lining up my shot the moon failed to appear on time because a cloud hid the horizon. But after waiting and repositioning at the last minute, the moon briefly passed through a small gap in the clouds.

Steamboat Moonrise

Early on November 19th the moon passed through Earth's shadow, known as the umbra. Less than 1% of the lunar surface remained lit by sunlight, just missing out on totality. Scattered clouds hid the moon much of the night. But waiting until 2AM paid off as a brief window to the heavens opened up. One of the best parts of a lunar eclipse is watching the sky darken and more stars come out. At no other time can you see so many stars beside a full moon.

A Break in the Clouds

Monarch Moon

The night started out clear and quiet with the Milky Way shining brightly to the south. Then one by one the stars began to disappear, first to the north, then to the west. Flashes of light soon caught my attention, each one closer than the last. Even though I was trying to go to sleep, I could ignore the storm no longer. I went to the opposite side of the 400' high rock formation called Boar's Tusk, where I was camping. The long-dormant remnant of a volcano now came alive with a different kind of rumble. Focusing and exposure were tricky in the pitch black, but eventually I caught this double lightning strike. I felt lucky to witness rain in the Red Desert because under 10 inches falls here annually, with even less in a drought year. The parched ground absorbed the water and released the smell of petrichor. In Southwest Wyoming the Continental Divide splits to form the Great Divide Basin. So the little rain that does fall here never makes it to the ocean and mostly evaporates.

Boar's Tusk Rumble

Anytime I’m out storm chasing, I love finding some old structure such as a church, barn or abandoned house. Buildings that have weathered many storms, bare the scars, but still stand. This little white church I came across outside of Wolf Point, Montana. A shelf cloud was closing in from the west. It seemed to be approaching rapidly, but at the same time in slow motion. The storm stalled out over town. Excessive rainfall brought street flooding and left drifts of dirty hail on the highway. As it got closer the sky turned green, reflecting the suspended hailstones above. When the gust front finally arrived, it turned brown as winds picked up dust from the surrounding fields. A wind gust of 86mph was reported.

Prevailing Church

During a heat wave I always like heading up to the Bighorn Mountains to cool down. I kept driving until I could go no higher. This highway, (14A) was opened for the season at the end of May and many snow drifts still remained. Darkness arrives very slowly this time of year, so I made some coffee and waited. After 11PM the blues of twilight finally faded away. Nights like this are rare at this elevation. No cold, wind, clouds, haze or anything else spoiled the view. It was perfect for stargazing. No matter how many times I see it, I'm always blown away by the sight of the milky way rising in a dark sky. Glittering star clusters, clouds of dust both dark and bright, glowing nebulae of all colors filled the scene. The more you look the more you see. A star tracking mount was used to counteract earth's rotation, allowing me to capture this highly-detailed image.

Hunt Mountain Milky Way

As my alarm dinged at 4AM I didn't know what I'd see when I peeked outside my tent. The chances were about 50/50 whether it would be too cloudy to see the lunar eclipse. But to my delight the sky was clear. Right on schedule, the moon was entering Earth's shadow - called the umbra. The left half was dark while the right half was still brightly lit. As the moon sunk lower, the shadow deepened and took on the characteristic reddish color. While the middle of the US never got to see the moon in totality before setting, it was close enough. <br />
Chimney Rock is perhaps the most well-known landmark in Nebraska and on the Oregon Trail. The towering rock spire was seen by half a million migrants who passed by with wagon trains in the 1800's. It was visible from up to 30 miles away , which is a 2 day's journey. Back then it may have been up to 10% taller than it is today.

Chimney Rock Moon

Every March at approximately 10PM, Andromeda has a close encounter with the iconic Devils Tower. When you look up at the stars, everything you can see with your eyes is contained within the Milky Way galaxy. But Andromeda is the exception. At 2.5 million light years away, it represents the farthest object visible to the naked eye. When you count the faint spiral arms, it is the same angular size in our sky as 6 full moons. Andromeda is thought to have about the same mass as our own galaxy. And just like the Milky Way, it is orbited by 2 satellite galaxies. Andromeda is actually best viewed in the fall, because that is when it’s highest in the sky. To get this picture I used a star tracking mount to capture greater detail, combined with an untracked image of the tower.

Andromeda Close Encounter

While hiking off-trail around Devils Tower, I encountered several deer. They were barely afraid of me at all, and let me get pictures with the tower in the background.

Devils Tower Deer

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Faster and faster the wind gusted, until it was blowing 700km a second - solar wind that is. The solar wind carries an embedded magnetic field from the sun. When it's oriented northward, it gets repelled by Earth's magnetic field. But when the solar wind is oriented southward, that's when things get interesting. The magnetic fields of the Earth and the Sun connect to each other and charged particles are funneled into the upper atmosphere. Collisions with air molecules emit the light that makes up the aurora. After monitoring solar conditions, I went out as soon as the data looked favorable. While I've captured the northern lights over Steamboat Point before, I've been waiting for a chance to try this viewpoint further away. The moon setting in the west was lighting up the cliffs with a warm glow. As the moonlight faded, the aurora brightened, until it broke out into these red and green pillars shortly before midnight.

Aurora With a Touch of Moonlight

Fueled by hot, dry weather and gusty winds, it only took a day and a half for the Apple Fire to explode to 32 square miles. As the forest went up in flames, the plume of smoke ballooned to 25,000 feet. That's more than twice the height of San Gorgonio Mountain, Southern California's highest peak seen in the middle of this photo. The behavior of this fire is extreme enough to make it's own weather. Pyrocumulus is a type of cloud formed when intense heat creates an updraft similar to a thunderstorm. Pyrocumulus lofts embers high into the air, creates strong unpredictable outflow winds at the surface, and in rare cases even generates lightning. The same phenomena is seen in volcanic eruptions. All of this hampers firefighting efforts and causes the flames to expand even more. But even in the devastation, there was beauty. From my vantage point northwest of the blaze, the smoke plume took on a deep red glow at sunset before the 97% full moon rose above it.

Pyrocumulus Moon

For over 4 hours thunderstorms moved past Devils Tower, which was not even in the forecast. The lightning was difficult to expose for, because some flashes were super bright while others were dim. But this was my favorite shot of lightning jumping out from behind the clouds.

Lightning Jumping Out

I couldn’t let NEOWISE leave without trying to capture it over Devils Tower. But this wasn’t the shot I had in mind. The forecast called for mostly clear skies after earlier severe weather exited. But sometimes what actually happens is so much better than what I can imagine. This supercell popped up to the west around 10PM and the anvil quickly blocked out the comet. But then just as the storm was showing its best mothership structure during a close encounter with the tower, a hole in the clouds opened up. It was perfectly placed to reveal the comet once again for just a few minutes. It’s a good thing that most of the lightning was intracloud. If bolts of lightning were jumping out they would have been too bright to expose for the comet. Every single flash highlighted or backlit a different part of the storm. While the lightning continued for most of the night, I was glad the large hail stayed away. I didn’t want to test the hailproofness of my tent.

A Hole in the Clouds

This thunderstorm popped up west of Devils Tower around 10PM. Once I got to this overlook, I could only get a few shots of Comet NEOWISE before it was blocked out by the clouds.

It's Coming This Way

As I came back into Sundance, the sun came out and this rainbow appeared, perfectly aligned over Sundance Mountain.

Under the Rainbow

Sundance Mountain Rainbow

As this supercell continued south of Sundance, it took on a very blue coloring. At the time it was dropping baseball-sized hail, which accumulated on the highway.

Blue Ice Machine

The air felt heavy and still. As it rotated closer, this supercell seemed to grow wings. Within a couple of minutes Sundance Mountain was swallowed up by the precipation core. The 'calm before the storm' does not happen with every storm, but when it does it's very noticeable. Then a giant bolt of lightning struck out of frame, with a deafening thunder shattering the silence. An errant hailstone, big enough to leave a bruise, bounced off of the ground with a thud. It was time to move. This cell turned out to be an ice machine, piling up baseball-sized hail on the road, and making the temperature plummet which created hail fog. Chasing storms in and around the Black Hills has it's challenges. Winding roads through hilly terrain makes viewpoints limited and cell signal sporadic. But when everything comes together just right, the structure and color of the storms around here are incredible.

Swallowing Mountains Whole

Chasing storms in and around the Black Hills is a challenge. Finding a good viewing spot isn't always easy, but I was lucky to find this overlook outside of Sundance. When everything comes together just right, the colors and structure of the supercells here are stunning.

Sundance Supercell

The time was after 11PM, yet still the light of sunset lingered in the northwestern sky. It gets dark quite late here in Montana in the middle of summer. This peak has been on my radar to climb for quite awhile. Like a spine, the long and narrow Bridger Range is situated in the middle of the state. The 9,665’ Sacagawea Peak, named after the famed guide of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, is the apex of the mountain range. Views stretched far and wide in every direction and were some of the best of any peak I’ve stood on. After sundown the lights of Bozeman and smaller towns came on. Then Comet NEOWISE slowly appeared through the deep blue twilight sky. Just a few minutes makes a big difference in visibility because while the coma is bright, the tail of the comet is faint even though it’s huge. After this more clouds moved in along with a couple flashes of lightning. It was time to leave, but I was thankful for the short window of opportunity I had. Descending the steep trail by headlamp was no small task. I made note of the tricky parts on my way up and was extra careful in the dark, trying not to butt heads with any mountain goats.

Sacagawea Comet

To the local rancher it might just be a random spot on the dirt road they drive everyday. But to me it was a place I had scouted out in advance after studying topo maps, to find the best north-facing view of the Crazy Mountains. Located in Central Montana, the Crazies are always an eye-catching sight. As the highest and most prominent of the state’s many island mountain ranges, it’s jagged peaks rise straight up out of the prairie and pierce the sky. The Crazies are sacred to the local Crow Tribe, and considered ominous and unpredictable. Somewhere up there is an old tripod of mine that mysteriously vanished one night. After a fiery sunset, the clouds cleared and Comet NEOWISE soon appeared. Before it rapidly faded, mid-July was the best time to view the comet. With no interference from moonlight, the enormous dual tails of NEOWISE were visible in all their glory. The blue ion tail consists of gases ionized by UV light and influenced by the magnetic field of the solar wind to point in a straight line. The white dust tail on the other hand, consists of neutral dust particles that are more widely dispersed.

Crazy Comet

The core of the milky way galaxy was shining brilliantly as it set behind the Bighorn Mountains. This is a 2-image composite, with a 10 minute tracked exposure of the sky, and then another for the foreground.

Core Over the Bighorns

I went on a longer hike than expected in the Bear Lodge Mountains, about 10 miles. But I didn't want to stop until I found this view, looking down into Sundance. Sundance Mountain is the closer peak with Inyan Kara Mountain on the far right.

Overlooking Sundance

I made it to the top of this sub-peak just in time to watch the sun disappear. While the Missouri Buttes were easily visible, Devils Tower was mostly hidden in the glare of the sun.

Hiding Tower

After the main storm cleared out, this mini supercell popped up in the Black Hills behind it. It briefly reached severe limits before weakening.

Black Hills Mini Supercell

It was an intimidating sight watching this monster barrel towards me. It’s amazing how something can be so beautiful and so destructive at the same time. Within minutes the sky changed from bright and sunny to black and the quiet turned into a roaring wind. This supercell first formed in Montana, before charging southeast along the Black Hills. Enhanced wind shear next to the mountains helped sculpt the clouds into this ominous structure. 2 tornadoes were reported, the first knocked down swaths of forest, while the second destroyed buildings farther east. Experts disagree on why exactly some storms appear green. But it is a good indication that a storm reaches high into the atmosphere and contains much precipitation, which often includes hail. At the time of this shot hail stones 3-4” in diameter were falling just a few miles away in downtown Rapid City. As much as I wanted to stay and time lapse this scene, I continued to flee south instead out of the damage path. I've found my windshield to be more effective when it stays in one piece.

Ominous Green

This storm was at my heels, but I had to make a quick stop for this view near Whitewood before getting on I-90. A tornado warning was issued a few minutes later.

Acorn Ridge Road

A wall cloud descends behind Crow Peak in the Black Hills. Not long afterwards a tornado would knock down parts of the forest.

Crow Peak Wall Cloud

Outside of St Onge, this supercell started showing some ominous structure. It would soon be dropping very large hail and a tornado.

Fleeing the Storm

Noctilucent (night shining) clouds are a rare and beautiful type of cloud. About 50 miles high in the mesosphere, no other cloud is higher. They are only seen in the summer, usually from high latitudes between 50°-65°. Occasionally they are sighted from lower latitudes. After trying and failing many times to spot them from Wyoming, the morning of July 10th brought this incredible display.

Treetop Noctilucent Clouds

All night long lightning flashed to the north over Steamboat Point in the Bighorn Mountains. Then at 2:30AM Comet C/2020 F3 NEOWISE rose above the horizon. Finally as the first light of dawn came, noctilucent clouds appeared. It was the brightest display I've ever seen. Seeing all these things at the same time made it a night to remember.

A Night to Remember

There are some things that just don't happen every day. One of the brightest comets in decades is swinging past Earth this month. As I brainstormed to figure out where to capture it, Steamboat Point seemed like an obvious choice. Anyone who has driven Highway 14 would recognize this iconic peak of the Bighorn Mountains. It gets its name because of the massive rock face that sticks into the air like the prow of a steamboat. Even though storms were around in the evening, I was not expecting them to last. But lightning flashed to the north for the entire night. The red color is an effect caused by viewing from a long distance through the thicker atmosphere. At 2:30AM, the comet rose above the northeast horizon, tail-first. A comet's tail always points away from the Sun. The 67% moon off to the right lit up the mountain, while shadows added depth to the scene. Soon after this, noctilucent clouds joined the show, but that's for another post. By the time the sun rose my memory card had 1400 new images. It was a night very much worth losing sleep over.

Worth Losing Sleep Over

After hearing about a comet named C/2020 F3 (NEOWISE), I finally got to see it for myself on this morning. Not really knowing what to expect, I set my alarm for 3AM. I was immediately blown away by how big and bright it is. Even after most of the stars had faded out against the light of dawn, it was still visible. The long tail stretched at least 5° across the northeast sky. I’m looking forward to getting more pictures of this comet, but that is assuming it holds together. Comets are very unpredictable. 2 of them were hyped up earlier this year, only to break apart before ever getting bright. Then Comet NEOWISE came as a bit of surprise. This was taken at Fort Peck Lake, the largest in Montana. With it’s many coves, arms, and inlets, the reservoir has a shoreline of more than 1,500 miles.

Comet at Fort Peck Lake

I wasn't sure if the storm clouds would move out in time, but they did and made for a spectacular sunset over Fort Peck Lake.

Sunset at Hell Creek

Just outside of Brockway, I managed to get a few miles ahead of this ominous shelf cloud. The NWS would later classify this storm a derecho.

Surging Shelf Cloud

This shelf cloud first blew over me outside of Jordan, Montana. It was very dusty and windy.

Jordan Derecho

After the two severe thunderstorms moved away from Hulett, one more little supercell popped up. It was very scenic with the sun out and it left behind this rainbow.

Curving Road and Rainbow

A few minutes earlier this supercell produced a tornado, but I couldn't see it from my vantage point. I thought it was going to do it again here, but there was only this funnel cloud.

Hulett Funnel

I got to Hulett just in time to watch two supercells pass to the north and to the south. Both of them had tornado warnings, and both produced very large hail. From the top of this bluff I had an excellent view of Devils Tower and the Missouri Buttes. It was almost a once in a lifetime chance to capture a tornado over the tower, but it didn't happen. It was still an awesome sight though.

Making the Tower Look Small

Epsie is a ghost town located west of Broadus, Montana. I'm not sure what this abandoned building used to be, perhaps a school or post office. I sat here and watched the supercell get stronger behind it.

Epsie Montana

Large hail began to fall from this supercell north of Gillette, with rays of sunlight in the background.

Suspended Hail Stones

The dark core of this hail storm near Gillette contrasted with the sunlight across the hills.

Ensuing Darkness

The Big Horn fireworks display is seen with Blacktooth Mountain in the background.

Fireworks Under Blacktooth

This storm proceeded to fall apart as soon as I reached Buffalo. But when I realized a rainbow was about to appear I went to Healy Reservoir to capture it.

Rainbow's End

Crystal Creek Falls

At the end of June I returned to one of my favorite places: Bighorn Canyon. Located on the Wyoming-Montana border, this vast canyon ranges from 1,000 - 2,500 feet deep. The remote location and dry desert air makes it a great place for stargazing. But capturing a canyon on a dark night can be a challenge. In pictures they only appear as a dark void, since very little light makes it's way down between the steep walls. But on this night I had the assistance of the crescent moon just out of frame to the right. The moonlight was bright enough to light up the cliffs, but not bright enough to drown out the Milky Way. This natural arch is set back against a steep hillside, which meant there was really only one spot to place my camera. After a hot day, I heard several rockslides echo from down below. And while walking back to my car, I met a baby rattlesnake who was not too happy I was there.

Window to the Universe

$Even after driving up Highway 14 dozens of times, I almost always stop at this scenic overlook. It’s where the Bighorn Mountains meet the endless plains stretching across eastern Wyoming and Montana. The towns of Dayton, Ranchester, and Sheridan are seen thousands of feet below and it’s a popular spot for launching hang gliders. For years I’ve wanted to capture a good lightning storm from here. But it required just the right storm, one that comes in from the northwest in a path parallel to the mountains. It needed to be close enough to light up the valley, but far enough to stay out of danger and out of most of the rain. It also needed to be predictable, so I could get there in time. At 10PM sheets of rain began to envelop the ridges to the north one by one. Then this brilliant flash illuminated the foothills and switchbacks just before the lights of Dayton disappeared into the downpour. I’ve always loved the challenge of capturing something that lasts a fraction of a second and preserving it in a picture.$