Kevin Palmer

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  • Tumbleweeds rolled across the road as I drove through the Nebraska panhandle with this stunning supercell behind me. I was looking for something, a barn, winding road, etc, to shoot in front of the storm. But mostly I wanted to capture a time lapse without power lines getting in the way. Finally I found what I was looking for: a lone tree on the edge of a barren field. I ran out to the tree and had 6 minutes to take pictures before the winds would blow over my tripod.
    Tree Vs Supercell
  • Tumbleweeds rolled across the road as I drove through the Nebraska panhandle with this stunning supercell behind me. I was looking for something, a barn, winding road, etc, to shoot in front of the storm. But mostly I wanted to capture a time lapse without power lines getting in the way. Finally I found what I was looking for: a lone tree on the edge of a barren field. I ran out to the tree and had 6 minutes to take pictures before the winds would blow over my tripod.
    Almost Here
  • The updraft of a supercell thunderstorm towers above a lone tree near Lingle, Wyoming.
    The Inner Workings
  • I went back and had another go at processing my solar eclipse pictures. Here I combined several shots and tried to show every feature of the eclipse that I was able to capture. There is such a huge range of light that it's impossible to capture it all in one image. The glow around the sun is called the corona. Shaped by complex magnetic fields, it consists of super-heated plasma up to 450X hotter than the solar surface. The sun's north pole is located at 10 o'clock where the magnetic field lines are shorter. The red fringes on the right are fiery solar prominences, several times the size of Earth. Also shown is the diamond ring effect, when the first bright sliver of sunlight reappears from behind the moon. Details on the lunar surface can be seen because of an effect called earthshine (not to be confused with moonshine). Sunlight is reflected off of the Earth and faintly illuminates the dark side of the moon. Regulus is the star visible on the lower left.
    Eclipse All In One
  • I've seen spectacular sunsets and I've seen breathtaking views. But to see them both at the same time was an incredible experience. This thunderstorm moved off of the Beartooth Mountains and settled over Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area in southern Montana. Here eagles, raptors, and hawks swoop through one of the deepest canyons in the US. Bighorn sheep scale the cliff walls, and wild horses roam free in the neighboring Pryor Mountains. 'Wow' was a word I said and heard often this evening. I also heard someone exclaim "These colors look fake." I was surprised there weren't more people here on a summer weekend. But without a boat, much of the canyon is difficult to access. The northern end of the park is less than 20 miles from the southern end where this was taken. Yet it takes over 3 hours to drive that distance, going over and around mountain ranges, rivers, and the Crow Indian Reservation.
    One of Those Moments
  • Two For One
  • It was 4AM in the grasslands of southeast Montana. I was spending the night under the stars while my camera clicked away, but the cold breeze made sleep hard to come by. I thought I detected a bright flash of light, but wasn't sure if my eyes were playing tricks on me. It wasn't until I got home that I found the source: a fireball meteor. According to American Meteor Society reports, the meteorite (if it survived) likely fell near the CO/WY border some 300 miles away. It theoretically should have been visible from at least 10 states, I can only imagine how bright it must have been overhead. The green color reveals the composition to be mostly nickel, and it left behind a vapor trail (known as a persistent train) for over 10 minutes afterwards. My only goal was to capture the milky way for the first time this year after it hid behind the sun for the winter. The fireball was just an unexpected bonus.
    One In a Million
  • On this day I headed up into the mountains with one goal: to capture the snow and fall colors together as two seasons collided. A snow storm occurring when the colors are at their peak is not something that happens every year. I wanted to be there the moment the storm ended and the sun came out, because fresh snow does not stay looking fresh for very long. Temperatures remained in the high 20’s all day and rime ice caused by freezing fog had coated the forest as well. The sun finally came out shortly after 5PM and then soon disappeared behind a nearby ridge. Aspen trees are not as widespread in the Bighorns as they are in other parts of the Rockies. Large clusters of them can be hard to find, but this stand across from Antelope Butte is one of the larger ones that I’m aware of. All the trees in an aspen stand are actually clones of one another. They are connected underground by a vast root system. This makes aspen trees some of the largest living organisms on Earth.
    Aspens and Snowy Cliff
  • On this day I headed up into the mountains with one goal: to capture the snow and fall colors together as two seasons collided. A snow storm occurring when the colors are at their peak is not something that happens every year. I wanted to be there the moment the storm ended and the sun came out, because fresh snow does not stay looking fresh for very long. Temperatures remained in the high 20’s all day and rime ice caused by freezing fog had coated the forest as well. The sun finally came out shortly after 5PM and then soon disappeared behind a nearby ridge. Aspen trees are not as widespread in the Bighorns as they are in other parts of the Rockies. Large clusters of them can be hard to find, but this stand across from Antelope Butte is one of the larger ones that I’m aware of. All the trees in an aspen stand are actually clones of one another. They are connected underground by a vast root system. This makes aspen trees some of the largest living organisms on Earth.
    Autumn Frosting
  • At the end of September week an early season snowstorm swept through northern Wyoming, dropping up to 6 inches in the mountains and valleys. I spent a few hours in the Bighorn Mountains trying to capture the clash of seasons. The snowstorm coincided with the peak of fall colors, although some trees were already bare. Aspen trees are not as widespread in the Bighorns as they are in other parts of the Rockies, growing only in a few areas. Circle Park is one spot I knew I could find them. The trees in an aspen stand are actually clones of one another, all connected by an extensive underground root system. While an individual tree may only live 100 years, aspen groves as a whole are some of the oldest and largest living organisms on Earth. Aspens can survive wildfires much better than conifers, but they require more sunlight to grow.
    September Snow
  • I was driving through southeast Montana when I started seeing flashes to the west.I pulled in to Rosebud Battlefield State Park to try to get some lightning shots. Most of the lightning was intracloud but occasionally a bright bolt of lightning would jump out and strike the ground, making it a challenge to get the exposure right. This is a very remote part of the state, about 35 miles from the nearest town. It was at this location in 1876 that one of the largest battles of the Indian Wars took place. The Battle of Rosebud also played a role in the defeat of Colonel Custer one week later at Little Bighorn.
    100 Million Volts
  • The last hour of hiking had been pure misery. Head down, one foot in front of the other, wondering if I’d ever dry out. Rain jackets, pack covers, waterproof boots all have their limits. Unless the rain is light or brief, eventually water will soak through. Hiding under a boulder did not work as the wind changed direction. The views I had enjoyed on my way up to the Grinnell Glacier had vanished, and the trail was now a stream. But suddenly the light began to brighten behind me. Sunlight made its way across the turquoise lake and spilled across the landscape. I hurried to get around a bend in the trail to prepare for the inevitable. It was one of the brightest rainbows I’ve ever seen. This type of rainbow is really only possible in the mountains. Since the height of the sun was still over 42°, the rainbow was below the horizon. But because I was at a higher elevation looking down the valley, it was visible. This was the only longer trail I had time for during a brief visit to Glacier National Park. Sometimes it’s the miserable hikes that are most memorable.
    Grinnell Valley Rainbow
  • At the end of September an early season snowstorm swept through northern Wyoming, dropping up to 6 inches in the mountains and valleys. I spent a few hours in the Bighorn Mountains trying to capture the clash of seasons. The snowstorm coincided with the peak of fall colors, although some trees were already bare. Aspen trees are not as widespread in the Bighorns as they are in other parts of the Rockies, growing only in a few areas. Circle Park is one spot I knew I could find them. The trees in an aspen stand are actually clones of one another, all connected by an extensive underground root system. While an individual tree may only live 100 years, aspen groves as a whole are some of the oldest and largest living organisms on Earth. Aspens can survive wildfires much better than conifers, but they require more sunlight to grow.
    White Fall Foliage
  • While coming down from the Bighorn Mountains I was treated to a dramatic sunset ahead of an incoming snowstorm. The mostly hidden peak on the left is Darton Peak, with Peak Angeline in the middle. Both of them are over 12,000 feet high. I often wonder what it would be like to watch a sunset like this from the summit of a tall peak in the winter. One thing for sure is that it would be brutally cold. This picture almost didn't happen because I was in a rush to return my rental skis before the shop closed at 6:00. After taking this one last shot I made it there with 2 minutes to spare.
    Flaming Winter Sunset
  • One of my goals this summer was to capture a lightning storm from the Bighorn Mountains. But it’s not easy since by the time a storm pops up it may be too late to get to the right spot. And once I’m in the mountains, lack of cell data makes it hard to know what’s happening with the weather. But storms weren’t even expected on this night. I was camping near an overlook called Freeze Out Point. At 11PM I went up to the overlook one last time and was surprised to see flashes to the east. The cell was some 75 miles away in Montana, and at that distance lightning often appears red as it’s seen through the thicker lower atmosphere. Distant lightning strikes that are silent and without thunder are often called heat lightning. But heat lightning isn’t really a specific type, thunder simply can’t be heard from more than 10 miles away. There was just enough time to shoot a time lapse of this moonlit lightning storm before low clouds and fog came in and obscured the view.
    75 Mile Strike
  • Every summer I try to climb at least one big mountain, and this time it was Darton Peak. It's one of the highest peaks in the Bighorns, and is very prominent from Highway 16 far below. With a goal of standing on the summit at sunrise, that meant a 3:30AM wake up time. But the bright moonlight helped illuminate my route as the stars faded out. The wind chill up here was in the lower 20's and fresh snow lingered from a couple days earlier despite it being August. Darton is typical of other peaks in the Bighorns and is covered with car-sized boulders. With towering cliffs on 2 sides, the long and rounded peak requires a 16 mile roundtrip hike, but I was able to camp at Lost Twin Lakes the night before. At an elevation of 12,275 feet, the air is only 63% of what it is at sea level. There's always something beautiful about the way the the light appears at high altitudes at the edge of day. It's amazing how the colors can seem both soft and intense at the same time.This view is looking south towards Bighorn Peak.
    Bighorn From Darton
  • A supercell lurked in the darkness. Every few seconds a flash would illuminate the thundercloud and show a silhouette of the sharp spires of the Badlands. This was the 4th storm I watched this evening. Rumbles of thunder slowly grew louder as yet another storm approached from the west and threatened to block the view of this one. Badlands National Park is one of my favorite places to capture storms. Even when they’re 100 miles away, the views here are excellent. And distant storms are preferred when I’m camping. The Badlands are very exposed to the elements. There is no escaping the rain, wind, and mud. An earlier downpour soaked me to the skin but the wind that followed dried me in minutes. The mud is the type that cakes to the bottom of your shoes making every footstep heavier. But a few hours in the hot sun and the mud is baked dry. At the time of this picture tennis-ball sized hail was reported in the Pine Ridge Reservation to the south. The lights are from the metropolis of Interior, population 94. The lightning was mostly cloud-to-cloud; this was the only strike I captured out of 500 shots.
    Strike Beyond Interior
  • Iceland has no shortage of scenic waterfalls. This one is called Hraunfossar (meaning Lava Falls) and it's located near Húsafell in the western interior. The water splits into numerous cascades as it trickles through the mossy lava field and flows into the Hvítá River. Volcanic activity still heats the many hot springs found in this valley, which includes the most powerful one in Europe. The river is fed by the Langjökull Glacier, the 2nd largest in Iceland. Glacial silt suspended in the water gives it the beautiful turquoise color. A forest of short but colorful birch trees grew around the river, an unusual sight in this mostly treeless country.
    Hraunfossar
  • Layout Canyon in the Pryor Mountains is filled with towering cliffs like this one. I balanced the crescent moon on one of the pillars.
    Fortress of the Moon
  • The Big Snowy Mountains are one of several island ranges found in central Montana, rising straight out of the prairie. But unlike the surrounding mountains in a mostly dry climate, this one has it's own lake. Crystal Lake is interesting for several reasons. It is very shallow and fish do not survive the winter when it freezes solid. The lake bed is made of porous limestone. The water level reaches it's maximum depth in early summer when the snow finishes melting. But then it starts to drain. As I walked along the shore I noticed the water bubbling away in certain spots as it seeped through the ground. By early fall the lake is significantly smaller and in some years it's not much more than a puddle. The color of the water also changes quite a bit depending on the direction and intensity of the sunlight. I liked this turquoise color the best as seen from an overlook called Promontory Point. Next time I visit I want to check out the perennial ice cave which is located at the top of the 8,000' ridge in the distance.
    Turquoise Crystal
  • This was the first major snowfall of the season in northern Wyoming. Up to 12" fell in the valleys, with more in the higher elevations. I went to take pictures at one of my favorite places to hike, Tongue River Canyon. This deep canyon ascends into the northern Big Horn Mountains west of Dayton. The canyon looked stunning with snow clinging to the sheer cliffs and trees, and the river gurgling below. Above the walls are found interesting geological features likes arches, spires, and caves, one of which has over a mile of passages. I wasn't sure if I would be able to make it up the narrow gravel road which was unplowed, but it wasn't a problem with 4WD. Last time I was here I spotted a black bear running up the road, but I'm sure most of them are in hibernation by now.
    Snowy November Sunset
  • 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. This was shot at the nearby ghost town of Monarch. A century ago it was a booming coal mining town, but today there is little evidence of its existence. An old water tower on top of a hill overlooks the mostly empty river valley.
    Monarch Moon
  • In this part of Montana there’s a whole lot of nothing. The sprawling ranches have more acreage than many towns. I’ve previously driven hours along this road east of Decker without seeing another human. You're more likely to encounter wildlife such as pronghorn antelope, which I've raced across these plains and found that they really can run 60 mph. On a warm August evening I followed this storm for awhile. The radar showed it was producing hail the size of baseballs. But since the core passed through a roadless area, any severe weather went unseen and unreported. Abandoned houses are not hard to find as they are more common than lived-in houses. By now I know where most of them are so I kept driving until I could shoot the storm above this one. When the evening sun came out it highlighted the puffy cumulonimbus clouds receding into the distance. The white containers next to the tree are bee hive boxes. I've noticed them popping up more and more across Montana as it's one of the top honey-producing states.
    Home On the Range
  • It’s one of the coolest places I’ve ever been. At the terminus of the Castner Glacier in the highest mountain range in North America is this frozen cave. I’m sure it’s easier to get to in the summer. But with 2 feet of snow covering the trail, and moose tracks outnumbering those of humans, I almost gave up on finding it. The cave is not visible until you’re standing right at the entrance. Inside is a world of ice reflecting every shade of blue. Rocks and gravel were locked in the ceiling just waiting to fall. It felt like I was in the belly of a giant beast, examining what it ate for breakfast hundreds of years ago. Down the middle flowed a silty stream. Further back very little light reaches and a water crossing prevented further exploration. Eery booming sounds came from deep within the darkness. But at least I felt safer visiting during the cold season when the glacier wasn’t actively melting. Many maps and descriptions of this place are no longer accurate. Glacier caves are temporary features which change from year to year, and as the Castner Glacier recedes there’s no telling how long this cave will last.
    A World of Ice
  • The sky was the bluest blue and the brightness of the snow was blinding. In every direction there were more stunning Rocky Mountain peaks than I could possibly identify. But it wasn't a view I could sit down and enjoy. Quandary Peak is a 14,265' mountain just south of Breckenridge, Colorado. Climbing it was one of the most challenging hikes I've ever done. The entire climb was straight on into the wind. On the summit I measured gusts of 60 mph with a wind chill of -25°F, but it was likely worse at times. Covering every inch of skin was the only way to avoid frostbite. It was all I could do just to remain upright and not have any of my gear blow away. Changing lenses or using a tripod was not an option. Quandary Peak is considered one of Colorado's easier 14'ers and the safest in the winter since the route avoids avalanche terrain. But on days like this, it should not be underestimated.
    South Slope of Quandary
  • Pictured is a highly unusual weather event called a derecho. Derechos are a long-lived wind storm that may travel across multiple states and cause widespread damage. They occur a few times a year in the Midwest or Eastern US. What was unusual about this derecho is that it began in Utah at 9AM. Normally the Rockies disrupt organized storm systems, but this one had no problem plowing 750 miles all the way to North Dakota. Hundreds of wind reports ranged from 60 to 110 mph. I intercepted the squall line near the Wyoming/South Dakota border. The severe thunderstorm warning mentioned a storm motion of 100 mph which was a bit difficult to comprehend. I tried to make it to a mountaintop, but then had to go with plan B, which turned into plan C which was pretty much the side of a road off of I-90. The shelf cloud was very ominous. The air was notably calm and quiet just before it struck. One mountain after another vanished into the rain and dust. Then seconds later the wind was roaring and I couldn't even stand up straight.
    Beulah Derecho 3:1 Panorama
  • Pictured is a highly unusual weather event called a derecho. Derechos are a long-lived wind storm that may travel across multiple states and cause widespread damage. They occur a few times a year in the Midwest or Eastern US. What was unusual about this derecho is that it began in Utah at 9AM. Normally the Rockies disrupt organized storm systems, but this one had no problem plowing 750 miles all the way to North Dakota. Hundreds of wind reports ranged from 60 to 110 mph. I intercepted the squall line near the Wyoming/South Dakota border. The severe thunderstorm warning mentioned a storm motion of 100 mph which was a bit difficult to comprehend. I tried to make it to a mountaintop, but then had to go with plan B, which turned into plan C which was pretty much the side of a road off of I-90. The shelf cloud was very ominous. The air was notably calm and quiet just before it struck. One mountain after another vanished into the rain and dust. Then seconds later the wind was roaring and I couldn't even stand up straight.
    Beulah Derecho 2:1 Panorama
  • For the Geminid meteor shower I snowshoed to the top of the continental divide in Western Montana. From the Granite Butte lookout tower, the views were stunning in every direction. The weather changed by the second alternating between snow showers, gale force winds, freezing fog with zero visibility, clear skies, and brief moments of calm. The tough whitebark pine trees which grow up here are all permanently bent. They point eastward from the prevailing westerly winds which almost never stop. The low temperatures, strong winds, and fog combined to create hard rime ice, which covered every surface (including me and my camera) with a coating up to 2 inches thick. To say that shooting conditions were challenging would be an understatement. My tripod had to be carefully propped up to avoid it blowing over. And with all my batteries dying too soon, I didn't get to take as many pictures as I wanted to. This was one of the brighter meteors which shone through the fog. The lights on the right are from the city of Helena.
    Through the Freezing Fog
  • Iceland has no shortage of scenic waterfalls. This one is called Hraunfossar (meaning Lava Falls) and it's located near Húsafell in the western interior. The water splits into numerous cascades as it trickles through the mossy lava field and flows into the Hvítá River. Volcanic activity still heats the many hot springs found in this valley, which includes the most powerful one in Europe. The river is fed by the Langjökull Glacier, the 2nd largest in Iceland. Glacial silt suspended in the water gives it the beautiful turquoise color. A forest of short but colorful birch trees grew around the river, an unusual sight in this mostly treeless country.
    Lava Falls
  • Kirkjufellsfoss is one of the most iconic scenes in Iceland. Just Google "Iceland" and see how many times it shows up. The name translates to "church mountain waterfall" because of the peak's nearly perfect symmetrical shape. There is a trail (if it can be called that) leading to the top of Kirkjufell which is one of the steepest I've ever hiked. In the evening, tour buses stop here and this small spot is filled with hordes of tourists and photographers lined up tripod to tripod to capture the sunset. But I wanted to avoid that so I came back in the morning when it was much quieter. There was a storm moving in and the sunrise didn't look very promising. But the eastern sky took on an orange glow for a short time.
    Kirkjufellsfoss Sunrise
  • Eiger is one of the most recognized peaks in Switzerland. The 1,800 meter north face, called Eigerwand, is the biggest north face in the Alps and one of the most challenging climbs.
    Eiger Black and White
  • After hitting the trail at sunrise I made it to the top of Laramie Peak shortly before 9AM and setup my gear. The true summit is littered with towers and communication equipment, so instead I pointed my camera at this subpeak to the south. The weather was perfect and the thick smoke from Montana wildfires that I was worried about stayed to the north. At 10:23 the partial eclipse began, visible only through a solar filter. Anticipation started to build as more of the sun became blocked out. After over 50% of the sun was covered the light became slightly dimmer but it was only noticeable if you've been watching the whole time. The temperature dropped by over 20°F and jackets came out. At 90% the sky became a dark blue and the landscape took on a smoky appearance. At this point the light began to change by the second. The moon moves from west to east, and the shadow approaches at 1700mph from that direction. At 11:45 the last piece of sun disappeared. Some of my favorite effects of totality were the parts I couldn't capture. Cirrus clouds in the west glowed orange like at sunset. It was similar to twilight but instead of the glow appearing in only one direction, it encircled the entire horizon. Venus came out first, then the other planets and brighter stars. It's a very strange feeling looking at the sun in what's normally the brightest part of the day and instead seeing a black hole. The ~100 people around me marveled at one of the most beautiful spectacles in nature. But just like that it was all over. The full disc of the sun returned at 1:11PM.
    Fleeting Moment
  • It was a very dark night at Devil's Tower, in between lightning bolts. The lightning was difficult to expose for, since it was infrequent, and usually very bright. This was one of the dimmer bolts. I was standing underneath the back door of my car to stay out of the rain when I took this.
    Power at the Tower
  • Morning sunlight illuminates an unnamed peak in Montana's Beartooth Mountains. This was the view I woke up to while camping in the East Rosebud Valley in Early May. In this mountain range are found dozens of glaciers, and the largest high elevation plateau in the US outside of Alaska. In the upper reaches of these steep slopes avalanche activity was high. A cornice, which is an overhang of snow caused by strong winds, can be seen on the upper right. Overnight the snow solidified as the temperatures cooled. But once the sunlight touched the snow and temperatures warmed, the snow became unstable and gave way. In my 10 mile hike through the wilderness I witnessed about 20 avalanches, most of them small. Sometimes I would hear them before I saw them, with the noise sounding like distant thunder. See below for a picture of one.
    Beartooth Mountain Majesty
  • It was at this overlook where my photography logo was born, years before I knew I’d move to Wyoming. This was also the spot where Ansel Adams took one of his most iconic photos. At least that’s what the sign would say if it wasn’t buried under 4 feet of snow. Tree growth in the 8 decades since means his shot can’t be replicated because the Snake River is not as visible now. Every night between December and April Orion follows the star Rigel until it sets behind the sharp spire of Grand Teton. There exists plenty of night sky pictures of the Tetons in the summer, but not so many in the winter. The weather may have something to do with that. On a clear night cold air slides down these steep mountain slopes and settles in to the Jackson Hole valley. One February night in 1933 the thermometer here bottomed out at -66°F, a Wyoming record that still stands today. Spring officially began the very next day, but it still managed to reach -6°F this night, making it my coldest night of camping yet. While Orion will soon be gone for the season, the summer Milky Way will take its place. And you won’t need 4 layers of clothing to see it.
    Orion Over Tetons
  • My 9-hour flight home was one of the most scenic I’ve ever been on. Taking off from Helsinki at sunset, we chased the sun westward. Meanwhile the full moon emerged to the east and followed the plane. In a state of perpetual twilight, the light remained the same for hours. The moon neither rose nor set and it felt like time was standing still. At the top of the world, just 250 miles from the North Pole, the scene was most striking. 7 miles below was Northeast Greenland National Park, the world’s largest national park. The ice sheet emptied out into the Arctic Ocean between pristine snowy mountains. Moonlight shimmered across fresh sea ice, fractured by undersea currents. The moon was directly in the middle of what’s called the anti-twilight arch. The pink band above is the layer of atmosphere where the sun was still shining, reddened by the backscattering of sunlight. The blue band is Earth’s shadow projected out into the atmosphere. In mid-October the sun sets for good in this part of the high Arctic, not to rise again for more than 4 months.
    When Time Stood Still
  • 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
  • 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.
    Electric Rain
  • In the Cascade Range in northwest Washington is a peak called Mount Baker. This peak is the 3rd tallest in the state, and is among the snowiest mountains on Earth. One winter saw a staggering 95 feet of snow fall, which is the most recorded anywhere in a single season. I hiked halfway up and set up camp on a ridge overlooking this volcanic peak. Into the clouds I ascended and waited until they finally parted just before sunset. My jaw dropped as the glacier-capped summit appeared high above me. But the view was short-lived as the winds shifted and brought in heavy smoke from Canada. Even though the meteor shower would be a bust, I was thankful to get this view, however brief it was. This volcano is still active with fumaroles found in the summit crater, but it hasn't erupted since the end of the 19th century.
    Between Smoke and Cloud
  • In the dry climate west of Kaycee, it does not stay this green for very long. But I love the contrast of the greenery with the red rock formations. I came across these 6 horses at the Hole in the Wall Ranch while driving by. They were on the other side of the field but trotted over to greet me as soon as I walked up to the fence. This area has a history of horse thievery. At the end of the 1800's this was the hideout of the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang, which included Butch Cassidy and many other outlaws. They would lay up here after robbing trains or rustling cattle. This rugged country was easily defended with only one way in from the east. While there were shootouts, in 50 years no lawmen were ever able to capture any gang members here.
    The Gang's All Here
  • In a cirque at 10,000 feet in the Cloud Peak Wilderness during the middle of summer, it's pretty much paradise. There are no trails here, visitors must navigate their own route on steep boulder fields. Not knowing exactly what to expect is what makes it an adventure. At this elevation it never gets hot and some snowfields stay year round. Waterfalls and wildflowers abound under towering granite walls. 9 named lakes fill this high valley, plus countless unnamed tarns like this one. Each lake is different. One of them was still partially frozen, another had islands, and one a sandy beach perfect for swimming. It's the only place I've ever caught a fish with my bare hands. This was the easiest of the 3 creeks I waded through that day. The puffy cumulus clouds were a precursor to the thunderstorms that pop up most summer afternoons. Up here above treeline it's very exposed to the weather. I made it down to the protection of the forest before the first rumbles of thunder, but didn't escape getting rained on.
    Frozen Lake Falls
  • The temperature topped 100°F as I drove down a dirt road called the Calypso Trail. The terrain of eastern Montana may appear boring at first. But the Terry Badlands area is filled with all kinds of geological wonders including toadstools, pillars, caves, and these natural bridges. I couldn't find much information on this place and getting here wasn't easy. Washouts, sand, and sinkholes make the road in very rough. Any rain will turn it to mud and make it impassable. Once at the end it's only a couple mile hike through fields of biting flies. I didn't even know there would be 3 natural bridges until I arrived. It was tricky to get all of them in one picture until I went underneath. Just past the bridges was a strange tunnel carved by water, with the roof collapsed in places. Some of the only shade in the area is found by standing underneath the bridges which are up to 50 feet long. This is a dry, desolate place, but still it has a certain beauty to it.
    All 3 Natural Bridges
  • Before visiting the Terry Badlands, I had no idea that Montana had it's own Chimney Rock. It looks remarkably similar to the one in Nebraska, but it's a little shorter. This one can be viewed from the rough road called the Calypso Trail.
    Montana's Chimney Rock
  • After watching the northern lights for hours, I finally went to sleep at 3AM. Just 3 hours later I awoke to this view. It doesn’t get much better. I knew this was a risky spot to camp near the top of the Judith Mountains in Central Montana. If a storm popped up it was very exposed to wind, rain, and lightning. There was only a 20% chance of storms, but this was the lucky day out of 5. Rainbows are always biggest (84° wide) when the sun is at the horizon. The rainbow and amazing sunrise only lasted about 10 minutes. After this I hastily packed up my tent and took shelter in my car as a 2nd thunderstorm threatened behind this one. There’s a reason the Air Force built an early warning radar station on this mountaintop during the Cold War. The views out over the plains seem to go on forever, no matter which direction you look. This small but scenic mountain range north of Lewistown also contains gold deposits and two ghost towns. Even though I was still tired, I couldn’t complain. Rarely are the most memorable days the ones in which I get plenty of sleep.
    Sunrise Rainbow
  • In December I spent a few days exploring Joshua Tree National Park. Compared to the hustle and bustle of most of Southern California this desert park is roomy, quiet, and peaceful. Even though I grew up fairly close, this was only my second time visiting. A mile above sea level in the Little San Bernardino Mountains, Keys View is one of the best viewpoints in the park and a great place to watch the sunset. A hidden trail leads up to Inspiration Point where this was taken. Far below on the floor of the Coachella Valley the infamous San Andreas Fault is visible. Over 10,000 feet above that is the snowcapped San Jacinto Peak. Few mountains in the US have a steeper rise. Higher still is San Gorgonio Mountain on the far right, which is the very top of Southern California at 11,500 feet.
    Overlooking Coachella Valley
  • In December I camped out at Joshua Tree National Park. Just because it’s a desert doesn’t mean it can’t get cold here. The temperature dropped to the teens on this crystal clear morning. The cholla cactus is one of many unique plants found in the deserts of California. This subspecies is the teddy bear cholla, so called because of the soft fuzzy appearance at first glance. But they are not very cuddly. The fringes of the cholla take on an amazing golden glow when backlit by the sun low in the sky. As the plants age, the lower joints turn brown and fall to the ground. That is how they reproduce and most cholla plants in a stand are clones of one another. Another name it goes by is “jumping cholla.” If you even slightly brush up against it, the sharp quills will attach to your skin or clothing and are very difficult to remove. The park service keeps a first aid kit at this trailhead for those visitors unlucky enough to need it.
    Teddy Bear Cholla
  • In January I went out to capture one of my favorite photogenic trees late at night. It sits by itself in a field near a small abandoned house. Cassiopeia, one of the most recognizable constellations, is like a celestial clock. In 23 hours and 56 minutes it will make one rotation around the North Star. But unlike a clock, it spins counterclockwise. When closest to the horizon the 5 brightest stars make the shape of a W, but when it's highest overhead it looks like an M. From anywhere above 35°N, Cassiopeia is circumpolar. That means the constellation neither rises nor sets, always staying above the horizon. In order to get a sharper picture I shot a 12-minute exposure of the foreground, and the tree branches didn't even move an inch. Windless nights are quite rare during winter in Wyoming.
    Night On the Homestead
  • The sky was the bluest blue and the brightness of the snow was blinding. In every direction there were more stunning Rocky Mountain peaks than I could possibly identify. But it wasn't a view I could sit down and enjoy. Quandary Peak is a 14,265' mountain just south of Breckenridge, Colorado. Climbing it was one of the most challenging hikes I've ever done. The entire climb was straight on into the wind. On the summit I measured gusts of 60 mph with a wind chill of -25°F, but it was likely worse at times. Covering every inch of skin was the only way to avoid frostbite. It was all I could do just to remain upright and not have any of my gear blow away. Changing lenses or using a tripod was not an option. Quandary Peak is considered one of Colorado's easier 14'ers and the safest in the winter since the route avoids avalanche terrain. But on days like this, it should not be underestimated.
    Summit of Quandary
  • There’s perhaps no better way to practice social distancing and clear your head than to spend some time under the stars. The idea for this picture came months ago: to capture Orion setting over this jumble of giant boulders called the Fallen City. After doing the math and simulating the view, I determined exactly where to put my tripod and when to make it happen. But one problem is this is a very windy spot in the Bighorn Mountains. My attempt in February was foiled by the wind and I could not get any clear images. But March brought another chance with calmer weather. A fresh snowfall topped with rime ice made the forest glow in the starlight.<br />
<br />
The Orion Nebula is the brightest in Earth’s sky. It can be seen with the naked eye from dark skies and looks spectacular in a telescope. Also visible next to Orion’s Belt are the Flame Nebula and Horsehead Nebula. To get this picture first I took a series of images of the sky with my camera on a star-tracking mount. Once the nebula set, I turned the tracking off and took a longer exposure of the foreground.
    Orion and Fallen City
  • At first it had the appearance of puffy clouds on the southeast horizon. Then as it rose higher the Milky Way revealed more detail. The clouds were made not of water vapor, but of stars too numerous and densely packed to resolve individually. The bright core of the galaxy is split in two by a dark lane of cosmic dust known as the Great Rift. The Milky Way was soon followed by the rise of Jupiter, and then Saturn. Meanwhile shooting stars periodically flashed across the sky during the peak of the Lyrid meteor shower. The Lyrids are the oldest known meteor shower, first observed 2700 years ago. Of the 15 meteors I captured, this one was the brightest. Devil’s Kitchen is a small basin containing badlands-type terrain, but it may as well have been another planet. It’s a barren wasteland located on the west side of the Bighorn Mountains filled with fascinating geologic formations of all different colors. When I first found it last summer I knew I had to return to shoot it at night.
    Night at Devil's Kitchen
  • I continue to find that southeast Montana has more photogenic abandoned houses than anywhere else I've been. I could make a whole album of photos. I found this one near St Xavier.
    Of Times Gone By
  • I continue to find that southeast Montana has more photogenic abandoned houses than anywhere else I've been. I could make a whole album of photos. I found this one near St Xavier.
    St Xavier Homestead
  • Because this morning's lunar eclipse occurred with the moon close to the horizon instead of high overhead, it was particularly well suited for photography. I just needed something to frame the moon over, and I couldn't think of a better subject than Devils Tower. I did the math and figured out I would need to be just under 2 miles east of the tower to shoot it with the lens I had. The surrounding area has lots of hills, trees, and private land, but luckily there was a road in the right spot, which provided this view. What was supposed to be only flurries the evening before turned into 4 inches of fresh snow. The clouds didn't clear out until minutes before the eclipse began. As the moon became redder, the sky became bluer and the stars slowly faded away. Snow doesn't stay very long on the tower since the sun heats up the rock quickly and winds blow it off. But everything came together perfectly this morning to create a one of a kind view.
    Totality at the Tower
  • After hearing coyotes howling around me the previous evening, I was glad to see this one in the daylight. He was hunting for mice in this field at the edge of Grasslands National Park. Canadian coyotes are apparently much bigger than those further south. Since there was no one around I was able to back up my car and track along with the coyote and he barely noticed me.
    On The Prowl
  • Eiger is one of the most recognized peaks in Switzerland. The 1,800 meter north face, called Eigerwand, is the biggest north face in the Alps and one of the most challenging climbs.
    Eiger North Face
  • The Pryor Mountains are not a very large or tall range. But they hold lots of wonders including several mysterious ice caves. At this elevation (8,600') any snow would have melted away months ago. But snow and ice stays beneath the ground year round. The Crater Ice Cave is one of the harder caves to reach because it requires an 1,800 foot climb to the highest peak, Big Pryor Mountain. The cave is located just below the summit and has a side entrance as well as a skylight entrance overhead.
    Subterranean Snow
  • This is one of the most beautiful times of year in Wyoming. The valleys are green and the mountains are filled with colorful wildflowers. This was taken near Red Grade Road. The trees were burnt in a wildfire 10 years ago.
    Burnt Tree Bloom
  • Just before the drenching rain started, I took one last shot and captured this bolt of lightning, reflected in Big Goose Creek.
    Electric Green
  • This meadow below "Grandma's Mountain" is one of many scenic views along the Penrose Trail near the town of Story.
    Grandma's Mountain
  • Earlier this year the American Bison was declared the national mammal of the United States. The bulls can weigh up to 2000 pounds making them the largest mammal in North America. Once numbering in the tens of millions, bison nearly became extinct at the end of the 19th century. In 1913, bison were successfully reintroduced to Wind Cave National Park, shipped by rail from New York City. Today this is one of the only genetically pure bison herds, without any cattle genes. Even though I've seen plenty of bison before, Wind Cave in the Black Hills is the only place where I've actually hiked with them right next to the trail. At first they may appear calm and lazy. But you shouldn't get too close since they are very temperamental and can charge at speeds of up to 40 mph.
    Wind Cave Bison Bull
  • The light of sunrise illuminates one of the first snowfalls of the season in the Bighorn Mountains near Dayton. The switchbacks of Highway 14 can be seen in the valley.
    Fog and Switchbacks
  • Sunrise from Mary's Rock was amazing. But it was also very challenging to photograph. With the strong winds, it was difficult to keep myself and my tripod standing. Often I would see a picture, point my camera, set the exposure, and then it would be gone as another cloud came and hid the light. But this was one of my favorites.
    A Place in the Clouds
  • Ryan's Round Barn is one of the first things you see when entering Johnson Sauk Trail State Park. It was built in 1910 and is one of the largest round barns in the country.
    Ryan's Round Barn
  • This is one of the caves in Wildcat Den State Park. It was a bit tricky getting my tripod and camera up here to take a picture.
    Wildcat Den Cave
  • Vivid fall colors fill the valley of the Porcupine Mountains in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. This state park preserves one of the largest areas of wilderness left in the Midwest The steep cliffs known as The Escarpment rises 500 feet above the Lake of the Clouds. It is a fitting name since I never did see this lake without a cloudy sky above it. On the other side of the cliffs is Lake Superior. It can just barely be seen in between two hills at the top of the picture. This picture was taken at the beginning of a 28 mile backpacking trip into the wilderness.<br />
<br />
Date Taken: 9/30/14
    Escarpment View
  • The 290 foot long landscape arch is the longest in the world. But it is also very fragile and could collapse at any time. In the 1990's the arch lost 3 large chunks one at a time. The trail you see in the picture has been off limits for over 20 years because of the danger from rock falls.<br />
<br />
Date Taken: 11/7/2013
    Landscape Arch
  • Even though I love thunderstorms, I was hoping for a clear sky to photograph the milky way since I was only in the Badlands one night. At 10 pm it didn't seem like it was going to happen so I returned to my campsite in Wall. But just before going to sleep at midnight I looked up and could see stars. So I drove the 20 minutes back to the overlook and saw this. Badlands National Park is one of the best places you can go for dark skies with very little light pollution. Although it wasn't very well defined, green airglow is visible in this shot. Even a very small town can have lights that reflect on the clouds and that is what the orange spots are.
    The Clearing
  • This was the best lightning storm I saw all year. A couple thunderstorms passed very close, but the rain stayed out of the way. Sometimes I stack lightning shots, but this is just one exposure. The two lightning crawlers occurred about 15 seconds apart within the 30 second exposure. After chasing some storms to the south and coming back home I think I saw about 10 thunderstorms on this day. There are often deer in this field at night, you can see a couple under the bright streetlight.<br />
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Date Taken: June 25, 2013
    Night Crawler
  • Before the stars could fully appear they were blotted out. There is no night darker than a moonless, cloudy one in the mountains. Then somewhere beyond a ridge to the south, brief flashes of light began to multiply and intensify. Catching a lightning storm from this viewpoint on Red Grade Road has long been a goal. But driving up this dangerous road in a hurry at night during a storm seemed like a bad idea. So I arrived early, with enough time to have a campfire before the weather approached. Storms do not often take this path from the south, along the foothills of the Bighorn Mountains. But this was the perfect night, as bolt after bolt landed on the plains thousands of feet below. Close enough to clearly see, but far enough to be safe. The lights of Sheridan and Big Horn faded into the rain, which barely touched the mountains where I stood. This is a stack of images captured over about 20 minutes.
    Moncreiffe Ridge Lightning
  • 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
  • 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
  • This dusty elephant trunk tornado dropped outside of McCook, Nebraska. It was one of many that formed from a long-track cyclic supercell. After firing on the dry line in Kansas, it tracked for nearly 200 miles. Researchers that are part of the TORUS project surrounded the twisters with a fleet of radar, drones, weather balloons, and other instruments. A NOAA P3 aircraft, which is typically used to fly into hurricanes, could be seen overhead circling this storm and gathering data. Altogether this was one of the most well studied and documented supercells yet. The tornadoes left some damage behind, including downed power lines across the road which ended my chase. But there were no reported injuries, which is always good news. Even though I wish I would have done some things differently, I'm just glad to have been there.
    Elephant Trunk Tornado
  • I spent the fourth of July chasing tornadoes in Chugwater, Wyoming. Chugwater has a certain legendary status among storm chasers. Storms form over the Laramie Mountains to the west, and the local terrain seems to enhance tornadic potential. On at least 3 other occasions I've seen funnel clouds here. And having one of the few paved, east-west highways also makes it a great place to target. Luckily there is not much around for a tornado to damage. I had to pick a spot either below the bluff or on top. I chose on top, which put me a little over a mile away from the developing tornado. Powerful cloud to ground lightning bolts were dropping during tornadogenesis. My camera was left outside to shoot automatically while I stayed in my car.
    Chugwater Tornado
  • Ever since I saw this mountain engulfed by a storm earlier in the summer, I was hoping to have a chance to get some better pictures of it. There's something about a lone isolated mountain that's just begging to be photographed under the stars. There are at least 10 Square Buttes in Montana, and this one isn't even the most popular. That makes it hard to find information on it. In case you didn't know, a butte is a flat-topped mountain with steep sides. This particular Square Butte rises 2600 feet above a town with the same name and a population of 20. Finding the right spot to place my tripod isn't always easy. I needed to be NNE of the butte, not too close and not too far with no hills or anything else in my way. There was no time to waste since the milky way and Jupiter were in position as soon as it got dark. The milky way won't be visible for too much longer before it passes behind the sun for the winter. To get a sharper picture I took a 12-minute exposure of the mountain and combined it with a shorter exposure of the sky.
    Galactic Butte
  • On the last day of November I snowshoed a few miles up Red Grade Road as a storm cleared out, leaving behind a foot of fresh snow. This steep road is only accessible by foot or by snowmobile this time of year. In 2007 nearly 5,000 acres of Little Goose Canyon burned in a wildfire. 12 years later it's still easy to see exactly where the fire stopped. One of the best things about being out right after a fresh snowfall is the silence. A layer of light, fluffy snow on the ground acts as a sound absorber and dampens sound waves. But after snow melts and refreezes the opposite is true. Sound waves travel farther and are clearer when they bounce off of old and hard snow.
    Last Sunset of November
  • Early June is wildflower season in the Bighorns and entire mountainsides were blooming with color. I took advantage of the clear weather by shooting the milky way from Red Grade Road outside of Sheridan. It was dark for a couple hours before the galaxy started to fade and the sky became bluer. At 1AM the 65% moon peeked over the distant ridge and cast a warm glow across the arrowleaf balsamroot flowers shaking in the breeze. I’ve always found a late night moonrise to be one of the toughest scenes to capture accurately. While my eyes could easily see details of the moon, the camera only shows it as a burst of light because the moon is significantly brighter than it’s surroundings.
    By The Light of the Moon
  • It was nearly 11pm in southern Saskatchewan. I had just watched a bright auroral substorm send colorful arcs high into the northern sky, but it was starting to fade. Then I turned around, looking south, and this is what I saw. A bright pinkish strip of light stretched from east to west, while the crescent moon hung low on the horizon. It's one of the most unusual things I've ever seen in the night sky. This strange type of aurora is called Steve. The name started as a joke, but it stuck.  Steve was first captured last year by a group of aurora photographers in Alberta. After ESA flew a satellite through it earlier this year, it was discovered that it's comprised of very hot (10,800°F) ionized gases moving along at 4 miles per second. This ribbon of light is 16 miles wide and thousands of miles long. I watched as Steve started overhead nearly paralleling the US-Canada border, before slowly moving south. It turned into a green "picket fence" pattern before fading away. It was awesome to see such a mysterious phenomena which is still being studied by scientists.
    An Aurora Named Steve
  • While hiking to Tower Fall in Yellowstone National Park last winter I came across this bison bull grazing above the trail. I slowly made my way past while watching for any signs of aggression. At one point I could see his breath as he exhaled into the cold air and I had my camera ready. Bison are the biggest land mammals found in North America, with bulls weighing up to 1 ton. They typically live for 12 to 15 years. But it's always a struggle to survive the harsh Wyoming winters, with up to 40% of calves succumbing before their their first year. They will forage for grass wherever the snow cover is thinner such as thermal areas or on steep hillsides as this bull was doing. If the snow is too deep, the hump on their back enables them to pivot their head from side to side, sweeping away snow like a plow. Yellowstone is the only place in the United States where bison have lived continuously since prehistoric times. Their population dwindled to just two dozen in the early 1900's, but they now number at close to 5,000 animals.
    Bison Breath
  • In mid-August I photographed the annual Perseid meteor shower. But this was no ordinary year, as there were twice as many meteors as normal. Beartooth Lake, at almost 9,000 feet in the Beartooth Mountains was the perfect place to watch from. I was worried about the weather, with thick clouds at sunset and a wildfire only 7 miles away. But it ended up being a beautiful night. The show got started at 1AM when the moon set, leaving the sky completely dark. While listening to every little sound around me (this is grizzly bear country) I counted 250 meteors in 4 hours. This was one of 93 that my camera captured over  Beartooth Butte. The radiant (Perseus) was to the upper right outside of the frame. As dawn approached, fog swirled around the glassy surface of the lake. Hand warmers strapped to my lens prevented the glass from fogging up. I don't know how cold it was, but I do know my water bottle froze and I was snowed on at the pass earlier in the evening.
    Green to Red
  • As soon as I stepped outside this vivid halo commanded my attention. I have never seen one this vivid. The colors at the bottom were very obvious although I didn't see the color in the corona until looking at the picture afterwards. It didn't last long as low-lying clouds came in and obscured the icy cirrus clouds higher up. A full moon on Christmas is somewhat rare. But even more rare is the fact that it was in the mid-60's late at night in Maryland when I took this.
    Christmas Eve Halo
  • In My 2 hour time lapse I captured 1 bright Taurid meteor. There was another similar one right after this. But it somehow occurred in the 2 second gap in between pictures.
    Freefall
  • Bass Creek is one of dozens of streams that cut through the Bitterroot Mountains in Montana.
    Bitterroot Stream
  • Every year, the Western Larch trees turn a bright yellow before winter sets in. They are one of the only deciduous trees with needles. This view was seen near Lolo Creek in Montana. When the sun came out for a few minutes, I had to stop and get some shots of the Larch trees as they became backlit.
    Sunlit Larch
  • Before the stars could fully appear they were blotted out. There is no night darker than a moonless, cloudy one in the mountains. Then somewhere beyond a ridge to the south, brief flashes of light began to multiply and intensify. Catching a lightning storm from this viewpoint on Red Grade Road has long been a goal. But driving up this dangerous road in a hurry at night during a storm seemed like a bad idea. So I arrived early, with enough time to have a campfire before the weather approached. Storms do not often take this path from the south, along the foothills of the Bighorn Mountains. But this was the perfect night, as bolt after bolt landed on the plains thousands of feet below. Close enough to clearly see, but far enough to be safe. The lights of Sheridan and Big Horn faded into the rain, which barely touched the mountains where I stood. This is a stack of images captured over about 18 minutes.
    Sheridan Lightning
  • Just because Greenland doesn’t have trees, doesn’t mean it lacks fall colors. Shrubs and bushes burst with shades of red, orange, and gold. Juicy berries grow among the abundant green moss covering the ground. The first week of October was a bit past the peak, but I found the best remaining colors in a place called Paradise Valley. With numerous waterfalls, snowy peaks, lakes, and views of iceberg-strewn beaches, it’s a spot that certainly lived up to its name. The dark, moody weather was perfect for trying out longer exposures on the falls to give it the milky look. The water in Greenland is some of the purest on the planet. Fed by glaciers and snowmelt, one can drink directly from most streams with no consequences.
    Red Foliage Falls
  • I nearly gave up on seeing the aurora this night but I'm glad I didn't. The thick clouds parted for a brief time to the west as the northern lights brightened. One iceberg was stranded on the rocks while hundreds of others floated past in a blur.
    Primarily Purple
  • 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
  • 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
  • When I reached this overlook in the Bighorn Mountains, one thunderstorm was moving off to the east, while another approached from the north. This is the eastern storm, dumping rain over the lights of Sheridan.
    Raining On Sheridan
  • After studying a topo map of the Cloud Peak Wilderness, one lake in particular caught my eye. Upper Crater Lake has a perennial snowfield at the end and I knew there was a chance part of the lake could still be frozen. It was a challenging 12 mile hike to reach it, involving detours around blowdowns, plenty of stream crossings, and a steep off-trail scramble. Trees don't grow at this altitude 2 miles above sea level, and it was tough finding enough grass to pitch my tent. Relentless swarms of mosquitoes, blisters on my feet, and gear breaking all added to the adventure. When I first arrived the ice was on the far side of the lake. But just before sunset the wind shifted and blew these icebergs to where I could reach them.
    Icebergs in July
  • In the northwest corner of Washington state is one of the wettest places in the US. Up to 10 feet of rain falls here annually, which creates a lush rain forest. The dense canopy blocks out the sun, and the forest floor is covered with moss and ferns. When the massive trees do fall, many of the logs end up in rivers and are carried out to sea, where they become piled up along the beaches. Marymere Falls is a 90 foot high waterfall found not far from the shore of Lake Crescent in Olympic National Park. This hot August day was the perfect time to photograph the rain forest, since thick wildfire smoke was blocking out all of the big views.
    Falls and Ferns
  • I always feel a a sense of urgency this time of year to capture the fall colors before they're gone. Tongue River Canyon is always a great place to hike, and one of the closest trails to where I live. It was extra beautiful on this warm October afternoon. A patch of sunlight came out for just a minute.
    Overcast Sun
  • The Bighorns contain quite a few deep canyons with towering cliffs like this one. I've driven past this canyon near Lovell before but had never stopped and explored it. I knew based on the name alone that there would be lots of color this time of year. Cottonwood trees grow next to creeks and rivers in otherwise dry areas, and turn a brilliant gold in the fall. They get their name from the cotton-like fibers that are shed in the spring. The fibers contain the seed which gets spread in the wind, and can look like snow at times. In the distance the Bighorn River can be seen, with another stripe of golden cottonwoods beyond.
    Cottonwood Canyon Colors
  • Every winter I try to go on at least one backpacking trip that involves climbing a mountain. In early January I spent the night on this 9500’ peak in the southern Bighorns. Winter backpacking is not without its challenges. The rule of thumb is that everything takes twice as long and requires double the effort compared to summer. Progress is slow when breaking trail through soft and deep snow. From pitching a tent, to cooking, melting snow for water, and packing up while pausing to thaw my hands, it all takes extra time. I have to be very selective in choosing a day with the best weather when it’s not snowing, not too frigid and not too windy. Things can go wrong very quickly if you’re unprepared. There’s never enough daylight and the nights seem to go on forever. But for all that trouble, this is the reward: to wake up to an amazing sunrise and a view that few people ever get to experience.
    New Day in the Bighorns
  • In the far northwest corner of Finland is the tiny village of Kilpisjärvi. This is the only part of the country that touches the Scandinavian Mountains, and it's near Finland's highest point. The elevation and close proximity to the Arctic Ocean makes this the snowiest place in the country, and the snow here had a different quality than any other I've seen. It was so light and fluffy it could be blown off the windshield with my breath, and footprints in the deep snow pack left behind aqua-blue holes. I climbed halfway up one of the mountains, Saana, to obtain this view as the sun struggled to emerge. On the other side of the frozen lake is Sweden, with Norway to the right. This far above the Arctic Circle, trees can not grow above 600m. After this I tried climbing higher, but the route became icy, and visibility was nearing whiteout  so I was forced to turn back.
    View From Saana
  • After snow showers hid the sun for most of the day, this brilliant sunset in Norway caught me off guard. I rushed to find a west-facing viewpoint, while slipping and sliding on an icy pathway. This view was captured from the brand new Hålogaland Bridge, which has the longest span in the entire Arctic. By the time I got my camera out, colors had already started to fade and the ice pillar which appeared above the sun was gone.<br />
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While it may look peaceful now, it was not so 80 years ago. A significant naval battle was fought here during World War II. The depths of this fjord still holds the wreckage of sunken ships. Narvik has long been a strategic ice-free port where iron ore is transported by rail from Sweden. The Germans invaded this small seaside town in the spring of 1940, but they didn't occupy it for long. The Battles of Narvik and the recapture of the town cost thousands of lives, but it was one of the first Allied victories of the war.
    Arctic Ocean Sunset
  • It was a beautiful time of year in southern California. After an unusually wet winter, the hills are verdant, the mountains are snowcapped, and wildflowers are abundant. Chino Hills State Park is one of my favorite places to hike in the area. Even though it's surrounded by millions of people, its surprisingly quiet and uncrowded. Of course the main reason I only saw 2 other people here was probably because this particular trail (Scully Ridge) was severely overgrown. At times I was hiking through a tunnel of brush 10 feet high, which covered me in pollen. But I made it to this viewpoint just in time to catch the last wispy colors of sunset over Mount Baldy to the north. Even though I didn't capture the more popular poppy blooms this year, these golden wildflowers are almost as nice.
    Verdant Hills and Sunset
  • I spent the night at one of my favorite places: Diamond Butte fire lookout in southeast Montana. Once my wheels left the pavement, I drove for 100 miles without seeing another human. Open range cattle, pronghorn antelope, deer, and elk seemed to outnumber people 1,000 to 1. Here in the middle of nowhere are some of the darkest skies you'll ever see. 360° of sparkling stars over the rolling hills and grasslands makes it hard to get any sleep. After the moon set at 1AM I waited for the milky way to get into position. At 3:30 the core of the galaxy containing nebulae, dust clouds, and star clusters moved above the tower. Also visible is the bright planet Jupiter, in the middle of the Dark Horse Nebula.
    Looking Out
  • I got to the Crystal Creek Overlook just in time to watch this storm roll in off of the Bighorn Basin. I've always wanted to watch a storm from here and this one was perfect because there was no lightning occurring.
    Storm in the Bighorn Basin
  • Badlands are a type of terrain that experiences rapid erosion, estimated to be an inch per year at Badlands National Park. Much of that erosion happens during thunderstorms like this one. When the downpour first started I was disappointed because I didn’t get any shots of the storm structure beforehand. But then there was a break in the rain. It lasted just long enough for me to rush back to this overlook and capture the dark menacing clouds above surrounded by two blueish-green rain cores. Hidden in the ravine below were big horn sheep climbing the steep muddy terrain. The second wall of water hit even heavier than the first and dropped visibility to almost zero. A local told me they had never seen a spring with more rain. And they were right, 2019 was to become the wettest year on record in western South Dakota.
    Wall of Water
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