Kevin Palmer

  • Portfolio
  • Time Lapse
  • About
  • Archive
    • All Galleries
    • Search
    • Cart
    • Lightbox
    • Client Area
  • Links
  • Contact
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
x

Search Results

Refine Search
Match all words
Match any word
Prints
Personal Use
Royalty-Free
Rights-Managed
(leave unchecked to
search all images)
64 images found
twitterlinkedinfacebook

Loading ()...

  • 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
  • It may have been past midnight, but this roadside pond was teeming with life that was very much awake. Green eyes reflected back at me as cows shuffled around. Bats swooped through the air to catch the swarms of insects. The calls of an owl, geese, killdeer, and other unidentified birds added to the chorus of crickets and squeaking mice. The water was a near perfect mirror, which is a rare sight in windy Wyoming. Earlier in the spring it’s necessary to wait until the early morning hours to see the Milky Way. But at this time of year the core of the galaxy is up completely by the time it gets dark. The shooting star was just an unexpected bonus. There was no meteor shower happening, but on any given night about 6 meteors are visible per hour from dark skies. These are called sporadic meteors, and somehow I captured 2 bright ones in less than an hour. In the center of the image is Jupiter next to the fainter planet Saturn.
    Second Sporadic
  • Shooting stars fill the sky during the Geminid meteor shower above the Mississippi River Valley. In the 2 hours after the moon set, I counted about 90 meteors. I also enjoyed watching Comet Lovejoy rise through binoculars and with the naked eye. The comet and it's tail can be seen over the haze on the lower right. I couldn't have asked for better weather for this meteor shower. Wind chills were -15 the night before, and a big snowstorm was arriving in the late morning. But in between the skies were clear with mild temperatures in the mid-20's.<br />
<br />
Date Taken: 12/13/13
    Gifts from Gemini
  • 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
  • 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. But this was one of the brighter meteors captured, flying in between Orion and Sirius.
    Catching a Gem
  • A Geminid meteor streaks across the sky above Picnic Key in Everglades National Park, Florida. The star Canopus is reflected on the water with the brightest star Sirius in the middle of the picture and the constellation Orion above. My flashlight lighting up the trees was actually unintentional. When a raccoon approached me I instinctively shined a light in its direction. The raccoons here are very bold because they have no source of freshwater and attempt to steal from campers.<br />
<br />
Date Taken: 12/13/2014
    Make a Wish
  • A Geminid meteor burns up just below Polaris in Big Cypress National Preserve. I have never seen the North Star so low before since I have never been this far south.<br />
<br />
Date Taken: 12/14/2014
    Meteor Under Polaris
  • 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
  • After a 35-minute ride on a chairlift in the dark, I arrived at the Aurora Sky Station, 1000 meters above sea level near the top of the mountain Nuolja. Below stretched out a panoramic view of the lake Torneträsk, the lights from Abisko village, and other peaks of the Scandinavian Mountains. The weather was ideal. Even though temperatures were at the lower limit in which the lift is allowed to operate, the skies were clear and the wind was calm. Unfortunately the aurora was calm as well. The northern lights danced a little on the ride up, then faded to a weak glow barely perceptible for the rest of the night. But I tried to make the most of my time up here by shooting this startrail image. I processed it in a way to fade the trails into the background while bringing out the colors of the faint green aurora band. Even though my camera was pointed due north, it was not possible to include the North Star in the shot, at least not without shooting vertically. In Arctic latitudes the North Celestial Pole is too high up in the sky.
    Nuolja Star Trails
  • A sporadic meteor shoots through the sky while the milky way glows above Healy Reservoir.
    Healy Milky Way
  • For centuries a piece of rock about an inch in diameter has been speeding through space at 158,000 mph. It’s part of a dusty trail shed by the Comet Tempel-Tuttle. Every year around November 18th Earth encounters this comet debris in what’s known as the Leonid meteor shower. At 2:18AM this particular meteoroid was vaporized by Earth’s atmosphere in a brilliant flash of light. For 20-30 minutes afterwards a glowing vapor trail hung in the sky, twisting and turning before dispersing. Beneath Medicine Mountain in the Bighorns, the weather was perfect for stargazing this time of year. Most years the Leonids are nothing special, but they have a history. Approximately every 33 years, a denser stream of debris causes meteor rates to skyrocket. Historical accounts describe hundreds of thousands of falling stars filling the entire sky in a meteor storm. Though numbers were low this year, sometimes it only takes one to make your night.
    Leonid Meteor
  • Having already captured the aurora from most of the highway overlooks in the Bighorn Mountains, Sibley Lake was my destination. I didn't know what I'd find when I got there. Snow still blocked part of the road, so I walked the rest of the way to the shoreline. Most of the ice was gone, leaving a near-perfect mirror in its place. In the hour that I sat there, newly formed ice slowly spread across this cove. While the creek gurgled and owls hooted, meteors periodically shot between the stars.
    Sibley Lake Aurora
  • The milky way was shining brilliantly on the morning of summer solstice, the shortest night of the year. Thin clouds were making haloes around the brighter stars and the planet Saturn. A long exposure revealed colors invisible to the human eye, including green airglow and purple nebulae. There wasn't a meteor shower going on, but I captured this bright random meteor in one of the time lapse frames. On any given night there are an average of 6 sporadic meteors per hour visible under a dark sky. The skies here were very dark, with amazing views of the Bighorn Mountains in every direction. This was taken from a fire lookout tower on the 9,500' summit of Black Mountain.
    Solstice Meteor
  • My favorite type of evening is when wispy clouds light up at sunset, and then clear out to allow the stars to shine through. I went to the bridge over the St Mary River, which had a great view of the milky way to the southwest.
    St Mary Milky Way
  • 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
  • Just as soon as I caught my breath in the thin air, this view took it away again. In a glacial cirque devoid of trees, even mosquitoes don't dare to fly this high. Towering granite spires soar to 13,000 feet. 10 lakes fill this deep canyon, with the sound of countless waterfalls echoing between each one. This is the heart of the most rugged part of the Bighorn Mountains. Here summers are short and snow may fall any month of the year. From left to right is Sawtooth Ridge, Cloud Peak, The Innominate, Hallelujah Peak, and Black Tooth Mountain. Beneath the headwall is the remnant of a former glacier. The difficult off trail access means few people have laid eyes on this exact view, and possibly no one at night.  It was a risk lugging a heavy pack 28 miles roundtrip when I didn't even know if I'd find a suitable campsite. Fully exposed to the weather, thunder, wind, and hail nearly chased me off this ridge before I could even set up my tent. But when the stars came out it was all worth it. It doesn't matter how many times I've seen the milky way under a dark sky, it never gets old.
    Midnight at Sawtooth Lakes
  • My camera captured these 19 meteors in only 93 minutes starting around midnight on December 14th. I was a bit disappointed that my camera battery died after this because I wondered how many more I missed. Despite the moonlight many meteors had no problem shining through. I couldn't think of a better place to watch the Geminid meteor shower than this remote island in Everglades National Park. I paddled out the day before and spent the night on Picnic Key. A lack of sleep, sickness, and battling the tide the next morning made it an exhausting trip. But it was worth it to see the best meteor shower of the year.<br />
<br />
Date Taken: 12/14/2014
    Out of the Blue
  • It wasn't just a good night for watching lightning, there were plenty of Delta Aquarid meteors as well. This one was particularly colorful.
    Lightning and Delta Aquarid
  • Early in the morning the northern horizon glowed green. This was caused by a geomagnetic storm from a recurring coronal hole on the sun. A coronal hole is an opening in the outer atmosphere of the sun that allows the high-speed solar wind to escape, which triggers the aurora when it impacts Earth’s magnetic field. Since the sun rotates on it’s axis every 27 days, this can be predicted in advance. I saw the aurora from this coronal hole in September, but last month it was too cloudy. I was determined to see it again this weekend even if it meant staying up all night dodging clouds (aurora hunting is an addiction). The infrared satellite showed a gap in the clouds moving in at 2AM, so I made some coffee and found a dark spot on the Wyoming/Montana state line to watch and wait. It wasn’t the best display I've seen, but I’ll take what I can get during solar minimum, and the meteor was a nice bonus.
    Parkman Pond Aurora - 32
  • 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
  • Hooting owls cut through the frosty air. A quiet gurgling sound came from the open water on the Tongue River. Sudden snaps, cracks, and pops disturbed the stillness as river ice shifted. After staring at nothing for an hour, finally my eyes could see what my camera had already detected: a noticeable glow to the north. It could be mistaken for light pollution, except there were no cities in that direction. Slowly the glow increased in brightness before it broke out into a substorm. Pillars rose up from the horizon and drifted from right to left. In the past I’ve not had much success aurora hunting in the middle of winter. But there’s a first time for everything.
    Long January Night
  • 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.
    Lights of a Rising Tide
  • I caught this lucky meteor falling through the aurora at 1:30AM. The northern lights were so dim that I could barely notice them with my eyes, but the camera picked up more of the colors.
    Pillars and Meteor
  • The milky way galaxy rises above Black Mountain while a Lyrid meteor pierces the sky.
    Milky Way and Lyrid
  • A bright Perseid meteor burns up in the earth's atmosphere while the milky way stands on end in the west. After finding the nearby campground full, I drove a dirt road up to 10,000 feet until I found a spot flat enough to camp. With no trees up here, there was a great view of the sky and the lights below are from the town of Greybull. Over the 2 nights of the Perseid meteor shower in mid-August I captured nearly 1,000 images with about 10% of them containing meteors. This one was the brightest and the longest, spanning over 15 degrees of sky. I nearly missed it because it was the very first frame of my time lapse. Perseid meteors are made up of small pieces of comet debris that cross the Earth's orbit every year. It is the extreme speed at which it enters the atmosphere (over 100,000 mph) that causes the debris to vaporize and glow. The color of the trail reveals the chemical composition. The green is nickel or magnesium, and the red is ionized oxygen or nitrogen in the upper atmosphere.
    The Longest Streak
  • A Delta Aquarid meteor burns up in the sky above the Pryor Mountains. The glow in the distance is light pollution from Billings.
    Pryor Mountain Meteor
  • The aurora was dead when it first became dark. But then a very faint display of red pillars rose up. At the same time I caught this lucky Orionid meteor.
    Flat Lake Aurora
  • After the sun set over the Absaroka Mountains, Venus became brighter and the zodiacal light began to glow vividly all around it. The diffuse, diagonal glow is caused by the sun illuminating dust particles within the solar system. I shot a couple hundred images for a time lapse and caught a meteor in one of them.
    Zodiacal Meteor
  • The northern lights dance above Deadman's Basin Reservoir while a fireball meteor flies through the sky.
    Aurora and Fireball
  • Hunting for the aurora from the mid-latitudes can be a frustrating endeavor. For every night that I've clearly seen the northern lights, there are 2 more where I've gone out only to see the aurora quickly fade or clouds overtake the sky. But perfect nights like this one make it all worth it. After NOAA issued a geomagnetic storm warning, I headed for the Bighorn Mountains. The aurora was obvious as soon as I stepped out of my car. But it was just a green glow without any structure or movement. At 12:30AM, the lights began to grow brighter. Pillars topped with purple and red suddenly rose up and moved rapidly back and forth. This is called a substorm. Charged particles in the solar wind causes pressure to build up against Earth's magnetic field. The magnetic field will suddenly 'snap' and the release of energy makes the aurora intensify. Substorms are unpredictable and often last only minutes. In this frame I caught a Lyrid meteor burning up above Steamboat Point.
    Dawn of the North
  • The Geminid Meteor Shower was very active in 2018. In this image I stacked a total of 90 meteors which my camera captured while pointed west. In about 5 hours and using 2 cameras, I captured a total of 350 shooting stars. It was a very active meteor shower this year. Near the top of the frame are the twin stars of Gemini, named Castor and Pollux. If you trace back the tails of the meteors this is where they appear to radiate from. The source of these streaks of light are small pieces of debris left behind by an asteroid, which burn up when they enter Earth's atmosphere at 22 miles per second. Thin clouds were making halos around the brighter stars. Overall the weather was perfect with the thicker clouds clearing out just as activity started to pick up after midnight.
    Early Morning Meteors
  • The Geminid Meteor Shower was very active in 2018. This view is looking south from Diamond Butte, Montana.
    Night of the Falling Stars
  • In early January is the annual Quadrantid meteor shower. Meteor rates weren't nearly as prolific as the Geminids of December. But I still wanted to photograph it since the moon phase was favorable and few pictures of this astronomical event exist. With decent weather in the forecast, I climbed to the top of a 9,477' mountain and spent the night there. The expansive views to the north included Meadowlark Lake, the tallest peaks of the Bighorns, and the High Park meadow. After chasing a mouse out of my backpack I set my camera to take pictures for most of the night. The shower seemed to be most active between about 10PM and midnight. That's when my camera captured these 8 meteors, although 3 of them were halfway out of the frame. I stitched together a few images for the bottom half of the picture, this allowed me to correct the distortion in the trees.
    8 Quadrantid Meteors
  • 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. With my camera pointed northwest at Beartooth Butte, I captured 93 of them. I combined them all into this composite image. 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.
    Night of the Falling Stars
  • Waves crashed against the cliffs on a falling tide while bats swooped through the salty air. The new moon phase was not only ideal for observing meteor showers, but also caused larger tidal variations. Comet debris periodically burned through the upper atmosphere, sometimes leaving trails for several seconds. As per usual the brightest meteors mostly fell just out of frame, reflecting green on the Pacific Ocean. Located on a wild stretch of the Central California coast, Montaña de Oro State Park has skies dark enough for stargazing, a rarity in the state. At least it did once I walked away from all the stray headlights at the parking areas. All week long the weather had been the same, with clouds coming in at sunset and lingering until late the next morning. But the night the Perseids were supposed to peak, the marine layer finally stayed away. The coastal mountains were only partially shrouded in clouds before a heavy fog bank moved in off the sea at 4AM. While meteor rates weren’t as high as past years, it was still a great show.
    Montaña de Oro Perseids
  • 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
  • At the end of July I had the chance to shoot the most detailed milky way nightscape photo I've ever taken. Ever since making a similar photo in Utah, I've wanted to repeat it, but finding the right location, the right weather, at the right time isn't easy. After a stunning sunset over Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area, the clouds cleared out and the conditions began to come together. This image is a combination of 3 separate pictures, totaling nearly 1 hour of exposure time. First I placed my tripod on the edge of the canyon, then aligned my star tracking mount on Polaris (the north star), and then shot two 18-minute exposures of the milky way. Then I turned the tracking mount off, and shot a similar exposure of just the canyon, and later stitched the 3 shots together. Without a tracking mount, I'm normally limited to 30-second exposures before the stars start to blur. In addition to the milky way, the planets Saturn and Mars, and traces of green airglow are also visible. The light pollution along the horizon is from the towns of Lovell and Powell. While I was shooting this, bats kept fluttering around my head, eating all the gnats gathered around the puddles after a recent rain.
    Celestial River
  • This might be my favorite campsite I've ever found while backpacking. The melodic sounds of elk would occasionally disturb the silence as dozens of them grazed in the meadow below. I awoke at 1AM just before the moon set so I could shoot the milky way.
    5,000 Star Hotel
  • It was 1AM when my alarm went off. Between shooting the sunset, the stars, and the sunrise, I wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight. After slipping into my shoes that were still damp from trudging through the snow, I stepped out of my tent into the cold air. With the temperature near freezing and a strong breeze blowing, it certainly didn't feel like the first day of July. But the weather couldn't be more perfect for shooting the milky way galaxy. The moon was setting in the west, leaving me 2 hours of darkness to shoot a time lapse before morning twilight set in. This is a shot I've wanted to take since last year when I first heard about this spot. It's an alpine meadow called Highland Park set at the base of the 13,000' Blacktooth Mountain in the Cloud Peak Wilderness. I've tried shooting the milky way over these peaks before, but they were always too far away, I had to get closer. But the conditions needed to be perfect before I made the 18 mile trek. Between the snow levels, moon phase, position of the milky way, and weather conditions I knew I may only have a couple chances to get this shot. The atmosphere is a lot thinner at 10,000 feet and the stars seemed just a little bit closer on this night.
    Close to Heaven
  • It’s a view I came across in early spring: a lone tree on top of a hill overlooking ranches, ponds, a canal, and the Bighorn Mountains. The milky way was the perfect backdrop when I returned to shoot it on a warm night in July. The green stripes in the sky are from a phenomenon called airglow. During the day sunlight ionizes oxygen atoms in the upper atmosphere, and their recombination at night emits a small amount of light. This chemical reaction occurs about 100km up at the same height as the aurora, which is caused by a different process. Ripples in the airglow come from gravity waves, which may originate from the jet stream or a particularly powerful thunderstorm complex. I often find airglow in my pictures anytime I’m shooting under a dark sky. But this night was the strongest I've ever seen it. The wave pattern was very apparent, although the color was undetectable to my eyes.
    Beckton Milky Way
  • After shooting the milky way over Square Butte, I drove back south to shoot the aurora. It wasn't as active as the night before, but there was a short flare-up at 10:40PM.
    Short Substorm
  • I wasn't really expecting the northern lights to be this active. It was a beautiful night for stargazing, and I was only planning to shoot the milky way, but I never got to that. A slight breeze disturbed the surface of the lake most of the night. But at 3AM it became perfectly calm and the surface of Lake DeSmet looked like glass. A long exposure from a camera always picks up more colors in the aurora than the human eye can see. Oftentimes only the color green is visible. But the purple pillar on the right was very noticeable and it hardly moved at all.
    Purple Pillar
  • I had a few hours to shoot the stars over the Tetons before clouds would move in.
    Night at Willow Flats
  • 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
  • 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
  • September is always a really good month to shoot wildflowers around here. After finding this thick clump of black-eyed-susans, I placed my tripod underneath them with a backdrop of the milky way. I didn't really like the color temperature of the light from my headlamp. So I actually just found a yellow image on my phone, made the screen bright, and light painted with that. This is a focus stack of 2 images.
    Milky Way Bouquet
  • Back in 2020, the last bright comet (NEOWISE) was passing by Earth. But on the night I went to capture it over Devils Tower, a thunderstorm suddenly popped up and blocked my view. I wondered if I would ever have another chance to shoot a comet here. 4 years later, I finally did. The moment of moonrise was my favorite time of the night. The rocky monolith reached high above the valley to catch the warm glow of moonlight. The color of the sky began to change, but the faint stars and tail of Comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS had not yet faded out. I would have liked to try different angles, lenses, or a tracking mount. But all too quickly, the comet was gone. Still it’s always worth the time to visit this special place.
    Devils Tower Comet
  • The weather was about to change and the comet was about to fade. I knew this would be my last chance to get a more detailed picture of Comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS. So I went to one of my favorite campgrounds at the southern end of the Bighorn Mountains. The dark sky and dry air here is great for stargazing and you can’t beat the price (free). On top of a rugged canyon rim, the Middle Fork of the Powder River stretched out below to the west. After setting up my star tracking mount I captured as many pictures as I could. Normally I’m limited to a 10 second exposure with this lens before the stars trail due to Earth’s rotation. But a star tracking mount let me shoot up to 10 minutes, revealing fainter stars, dust clouds of the Milky Way, and other details. While my camera took pictures, I peered through my telescope at the comet, planets, and galaxies.
    Canyon Comet
  • At first the aurora was confined low on the northern horizon. But then it brightened and filled the sky. It's not often I can shoot a time lapse on a highway. But traffic was very light.
    Night On Richardson Highway
  • In a high valley deep within the Absaroka Mountains, the night sky simply doesn't get any darker than this. The willows and the Wood River were lit entirely by starlight. A month ago the milky way would have been in a better position in between the two peaks. But visiting much earlier in the summer isn't possible because the water level is too high. This river must be driven through, there is no bridge. Even though the sounds of moving water can be soothing, I always feel a little uneasy being next to a river at night in grizzly country. All other noises are masked out by the water, so I'm unable to hear or be heard by any wildlife that may be nearby. I left my camera here to shoot a time lapse, but the lens predictably fogged up after a couple hours. In the 1880's gold was discovered on Spar Mountain (on the left). The mining town of Kirwin quickly sprung up, but it didn't last long before it was abandoned. Several historic buildings still remain in this fascinating ghost town.
    Night in the Absarokas
  • I’ve always liked this particular road on the west side of the Bighorn Mountains. With plenty of steep twists and sharp turns, switchbacks and hairpins, it ascends to a waterfall and campground. The poor maintenance, few guardrails, and occasional rockfall add to the thrill. If the snow were any deeper I couldn't have made it to the top. Before it got dark I found the perfect viewpoint so I could return later. The bright moon illuminated the beautiful landscape and clouds, I just had to wait for it to move off to the side. At 10PM Orion rose directly above the peak in the middle. Then all I needed was a car to paint the road with its headlights. So I left my camera perched on the side of the mountain to shoot automatically while I slowly drove to the bottom and back up. After combining all the car trail images with a single image of the sky this was the result. Highway 14A is the road on the right and the lights in the distance are from Greybull I think.
    Switchbacks and Car Trails
  • Up until the lunar eclipse started, I still wasn't sure I would be able to see it. In between an overcast day and an incoming snowstorm, weather models were showing a brief clearing. The clouds parted not a moment too soon. Compared to the last recent eclipse, the moon was a lot higher in the sky at 50°, which made it more challenging to shoot with a foreground. I needed to find something tall, where I could set up my camera underneath and point it southeast. The Needle's Eye is a natural arch that stands at the entrance to Tongue River Canyon in the Bighorn Mountains. I knew I wouldn't be able to fit the moon inside the arch, but just above it. This is a wider shot to include more of the canyon walls.
    Red Moon and Arch
  • Kirby is an abandoned ghost town in southeast Montana. I'm not exactly sure what this building used to be, possibly a post office. I want to come here some night to shoot the aurora since it faces north, but haven't had any opportunities recently. I happened to be driving by at midnight, so I stopped for a few pictures. The tall grass was still soaked from earlier storms.
    Kirby Midnight
  • 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.
    Blood Moon Tower
  • Up until the lunar eclipse started, I still wasn't sure I would be able to see it. In between an overcast day and an incoming snowstorm, weather models were showing a brief clearing. The clouds parted not a moment too soon. Compared to the last recent eclipse, the moon was a lot higher in the sky at 50°, which made it more challenging to shoot with a foreground. I needed to find something tall, where I could set up my camera underneath and point it southeast. The Needle's Eye is a natural arch that stands at the entrance to Tongue River Canyon in the Bighorn Mountains. I knew I wouldn't be able to fit the moon inside the arch, but just above it. The scattered clouds which remained made a red halo around the eclipsed moon. Closer to the arch is a cluster of stars known as The Beehive.
    Threading the Needle
  • Medicine Rocks State Park in eastern Montana is a great place to shoot nightscape photos. Lots of interesting sandstone rock formations rise out of the prairie, and the full moon provided illumination. This picture was part of a time lapse. I shone a light on the other side of the rock to make it glow inside.
    Like Swiss Cheese
  • In mid-September I went backpacking at Crystal Lake. This small lake is located at the edge of treeline at nearly 10,000 feet in the Bighorn Mountains. It was a chilly night with frost forming on my tent immediately after sunset. But soon after that the full moon began to rise out of sight to the east, illuminating the peaks to the west. Across the lake a waterfall tumbled down the cliffs and an early snow lingered above a rockfall of massive boulders. I left my wider lens behind, so I had to shoot a panorama to capture everything.
    Crystal Clear
  • After shooting the aurora over Nuuk Fjord for hours, it moved more to the southern sky. So I setup my camera over this small pond which was in the process of freezing over. During the brightest bursts of aurora the ground turned green. Jupiter is seen in the center of the photo and reflected on the ice.
    Jovian Ice
  • I found myself camping in Eastern Montana after a day of chasing storms. As darkness fell, little green flickers of light started to emerge. At first I thought I was just seeing things. Normally fireflies are only found in the more wet and humid climates of the Midwest and Eastern US. I’ve previously photographed them in Illinois and Iowa. But the weather this year has been anything but normal on the Northern Plains. Excessive rainfall nearly every day over the last month has evidently caused fireflies (also called lightning bugs) to appear farther west than usual. As another round of thunderstorms approached they started to glow even more before wind shut them down for the night. The Tongue River near Miles City was running high and fast. In fact the water rose several inches while I was shooting this, lapping at my tripod. This is a composite image showing 30 minutes of firefly activity, combined with a single image of the lightning and stars.
    Montana Fireflies
  • 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
  • At the end of October I had the the chance to spend a week in Alaska. I timed this trip with the arrival of a solar wind stream so the northern lights would be extra active. The sky only stayed clear for a couple hours on this night, but that was enough to see this bright ‘aurora rainbow.’ Only by shooting a panorama with my widest lens could I capture all of it. Most of the lakes and wetlands around Fairbanks had these bubbles in them. They are made of methane gas suspended in the ice. Just 30-40 cm underground is the permafrost, which normally stays frozen year round. But as the Arctic warms and the permafrost thaws, the decaying plant matter (also known as peat) releases methane into the atmosphere. During the summer this gas is invisible. But for a short time after the water freezes and before it gets covered with snow, these frozen bubbles are visible. Many area lakes have such a high concentration of methane that it’s actually possible to pop these bubbles and light them on fire.
    Rainbow of Aurora
  • When I passed by this overlook of Seminoe Reservoir earlier in the evening I knew I had to return at midnight. As the milky way first rises it forms a huge arch from the northeast to southeastern sky. The only way to capture it all is by shooting a panorama with my widest lens. Stripes of green airglow crossed the sky and the yellow glow is light pollution from the Denver suburbs 150 miles away.
    Midnight Arch
  • The strongest geomagnetic storm (G3) of 2018 brought the aurora down to lower latitudes. I wasn't expecting much with hazy skies and a full moon working against me. But I had to try shooting it, since opportunities to see the aurora have been exceedingly rare as the sun heads deeper into solar minimum. And to my surprise a faint green band of light was visible to my eyes, which ended my 9-month streak since I last saw the northern lights. There are several north-facing locations nearby that I keep in the back of my mind, waiting for nights like this one. This two-track road is just over the stateline in Montana. Strange noises filled the night air including crickets chirping, sandhill cranes calling, and coyotes howling. Even though the moonlight drowned out much of the aurora, it did help with lighting up the landscape for photos.
    Smoky Pillars
  • Pairs of eyes stared back at me as I made my way through the forest at 3AM. Three elk dashed away along the unmarked path to Shoshoni Point. This was the one Grand Canyon overlook I could find with a view to the southeast. The south rim is not the ideal place to photograph the milky way because it's located in the southern sky while most of the viewpoints look north. Once I got to the edge the galaxy was shining brilliantly above, but below it was a black abyss. Neither my eyes or my camera could see any detail in the canyon, it was just too dark. But after shooting the milky way I left my camera in position and waited for morning twilight to brighten the sky. This helped to fill in the shadows and I combined the images later. The majority of the canyon is out of the frame to the left. Someday I'll have to return to the north rim for a better view when it's not closed. Three planets are visible in this image if you know where to look.
    Grand Canyon Milky Way