Kevin Palmer

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  • For the 2nd night in a row, there was an active display of the northern lights in Abisko, Sweden. Starting off as a dull glow in the north after sunset, it quickly exploded with bright green spiral swirls filling the entire sky. Here above the Arctic Circle the aurora is ever present, encircling the Earth's poles in a zone called the auroral oval. Even during solar minimum when solar activity is quiet, the northern lights are visible on almost any clear night. And Abisko sees more clear nights than surrounding areas because the mountains to the west create a rain shadow effect. Visible beyond the forest of short birch trees, is Torneträsk, Sweden's 6th largest, and 2nd deepest lake.
    Green Cyclone
  • Even though the moon was bright, the aurora had no problem shining through. And the moonlight made for better pictures as it lit up the landscape.
    Above the Shaking Trees
  • A bitter wind blew across the icy mountainside in Björkliden, Sweden, while the moon illuminated the landscape below. I had heard about this overlook, but couldn’t find it in time to capture the first wave of auroras at 10PM. But since it was my last clear night in the Arctic, I waited until 1AM for the aurora to come back. A green stripe first appeared to the east, featureless and unmoving but slowly getting brighter. It was almost like a rubber band building up tension, until suddenly it released. Within seconds the northern lights filled the entire sky, moving and changing faster than I could possibly capture it. This is known as a substorm, and they occur several times a night when geomagnetic conditions are favorable. The solar wind piles up charged particles on the tail side of the magnetosphere. When the magnetic field line snaps, these particles are quickly funneled towards the Earth’s poles which causes a sudden expansion and brightening of the aurora. It’s not completely understood what triggers this ‘snap’. But the unpredictability is what makes the aurora so fascinating to watch, you never know what it's going to do next.
    The Second Substorm
  • In mid-latitudes I always consider bright moonlight as an obstacle to seeing the aurora. But in the Arctic the aurora is so bright that I can use a short exposure, and including the moon in the shot is not an issue.
    Snaking Aurora
  • This aurora corona was mesmerizing to watch. It was moving and changing so fast, even a 1 second exposure was too long.
    The First Corona
  • This 20 foot high waterfall in Matthiessen State Park doesn't even have a name. You have to hop across a creek and hike up a canyon to find it. The pollen on the surface of the water was continually swirling around the small pool.<br />
<br />
Date Taken: May 10, 2013
    Swirling Falls
  • Every tidal cycle brought something different. An endless stream of icebergs floated down the fjord, stranding themselves in this small bay when the tide turned.  Earlier that morning there were so many pieces of ice that I couldn’t even walk across this beach. But by nightfall most were carried away and only a few remained. It was my last night in Nuuk and the forecast called for 80% clouds. I just had to wait for that 20% gap. Geomagnetic activity wasn’t particularly high either, but this far north it doesn’t take much. Greenland is located under the auroral oval, where shows like this may happen any time the sky is clear and dark enough. When fringes of purple or pink line the swirls of aurora, it’s often associated with bright, rapid movement. A still image doesn't even begin to show all that's happening in the sky. Rays of light pulse inward from every direction, converging overhead at the zenith. It’s mesmerizing to watch and hard to look away from, though part of me wished I had a second camera with me to capture it all.
    Energetic Swirls
  • The haunting call of the loon echoed across Madeline Lake, while bright aurora swirls were reflected in the water.
    While the Loon Echoes
  • Fog swirls around the glossy surface of Beartooth Lake shortly after sunrise.
    Breathing Fog
  • Clouds swirl around the peaks Mettenberg on the left and Eiger on the right.
    Eiger and Mettenberg
  • Clouds swirl around the peaks Mettenberg on the left and Eiger on the right.
    Eiger and Mettenberg
  • The first light of the last day of 2016 touches Grand Teton while clouds swirl around Mount Owen. This mountain is nothing short of grand. It towers 13,775 feet above sea level, just shy of Wyoming's highest peak. From the moment the Tetons first come into view while driving through the valley, I find it hard to look away. These dramatic, sawtooth-shaped mountains are spectacular any time of the year, but especially so in winter. The summit is flanked on both sides by 2 glaciers.
    Grand Opening
  • Steamboat Point is barely visible as clouds swirl around the summit.
    Hidden Summit
  • Clouds swirl around the Bighorn Mountains near Sand Turn Overlook after a late season snowfall.
    Shrouded Peaks
  • Clouds swirl around Bighorn Peak before sunset as seen from the High Park lookout
    Bighorn Peak Panorama
  • Grand Teton awaits the first light of day under a soft pink sky while clouds swirl around Mount Owen.
    Teton Pre-Dawn
  • Clouds swirl around Barronette Peak on a cold February evening after sunset. This peak in the northeast corner of Yellowstone is known for the many waterfalls which tumble down the mountain, all of which were frozen.
    Barronette Peak
  • Clouds swirl around Loaf Mountain before sunset as seen from the High Park lookout.
    Loaf Mountain Panorama
  • The fog was mesmerizing as it swirled around Spring Lake on this night. That is until it got too thick to see the stars.
    When Clouds Fall
  • Tornado sirens rang through the humid air buzzing with mosquitoes. Locals could not help but to stop and stare. For hours this powerful supercell had been tracking across southeast Wyoming and already dropped 7 tornadoes. But now for the first time the storm was entering a populated area. As it crossed into the Nebraska Panhandle it picked up speed. I got far enough ahead so I could find this viewpoint of the national monument and shoot a time lapse. Scotts Bluff was a significant milestone on the Oregon Trail, and countless covered wagons passed between these walls of sandstone in the mid-1800's. I can't imagine what it would have been like to face a threat like this without a sturdy shelter or means of escape. The 800 foot high bluffs began to look tiny as the swirling mass of angry clouds blackened the western horizon. This was as close as I dared to get, because the core of the storm packed massive hailstones as large as 4 inches. When the hills started to disappear, it was time to leave. An additional 2 tornadoes soon dropped on the highway a few minutes behind me. While there were a few structures damaged, the twisters largely spared the town of Gering. But many car windows were claimed by the hail.
    Blackened Horizon
  • 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
  • I spent Memorial Day chasing storms across the Colorado High Plains. Colorado may not be the first state people think of when it comes to tornadoes. But it actually sees more than 50 a year on average, mostly in the eastern third of the state. Upslope flow causes storms to fire when moist southeasterly winds encounter the Rockies. The Palmer Divide is a ridge east of the Front Range and it creates what's known as the Denver Convergence Vorticity Zone. The changing winds in the DCVZ generates extra spin which makes storms rotate. But many of the tornadoes are weak and short-lived, at least they were on this day. Of the 3 possible twisters I saw, none of them were very clear. This was taken near Holyoke when swirling dust appeared underneath a funnel.
    Holyoke Tornado
  • At the end of a peninsula northwest of Reykjavik is a volcano called Snæfellsjökull, which translates to "snow mountain glacier." Without a guide or a 4x4 vehicle this glacier is not easy to reach. But I couldn't visit Iceland without finding some ice, so I headed up the road on foot instead to see how close I could get. Clouds swirled around the dome-shaped peak all day, offering only brief glimpses of the summit pillar. After passing the moss covered slopes I reached the top of a cinder cone at 800 meters, and slid to the bottom. With hands bloody from the sharp lava rocks, I made it to the foot of the glacier. The ice crunched beneath my feet as I slowly took a few steps and stopped at this crevasse. I don't know how deep it was, but didn't want to find out. Snæfellsjökull is one of the most famous sites in Iceland, in part because of the Jules Verne book, "Journey to the Center of the Earth." In the fictional book written in 1864, the passage to the center of the Earth begins here. With numerous caves found in the area and even holes that drop straight into the ocean, it's not hard to imagine how he got that idea.
    Snæfellsjökull Crevasse
  • 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
  • The temperature hovered at 4 below zero as the sun rose over the Illinois River. Amazing things can happen in such frigid conditions. Because of the nearly 40 degree temperature difference between the air and the water, steam formed and swirled around the river. The steam turned into ice crystals and drifted up into the air. The ice crystals then acted as prisms, refracting the light rays from the sun on the right. That is how this bright and colorful sundog was formed. This view is from Eagle Cliff at Starved Rock State Park.<br />
<br />
Date Taken: 12/24/13
    Subzero Sundog
  • I wasn't even planning on hiking Tongue River Canyon this day. But once I saw the snow line just a few hundred feet above the river, I was drawn right in. The weather was harsh, alternating between sleet and a fine mist that gets in everything. But the low clouds swirling around the peaks added drama.
    Fall Storm in the Canyon
  • It was a beautiful foggy morning along the North Fork of the Flathead River. After swirling around for a couple hours the fog cleared out again like it was never there.
    North Fork Fog
  • A vivid alpenglow shines on the mountains on the other side of the frozen lake Torneträsk in Swedish Lapland. Lingering snow showers were swirling around the highest peaks. The native Sami people recognize 8 seasons here instead of 4, and "spring-winter" occurs in March and April. The snow hasn't started melting yet, but temperatures do moderate a bit when the sun returns after being absent for over a month. The hours of daylight increase significantly from day to day as the nights grow ever shorter. In early April the sky no longer gets completely dark (marking the end of aurora season) and by the latter part of May the sun will stay up 24/7. Spring-winter is the favorite season of many residents since it's the best time of year for skiing, snowmobiling, and dog sledding.
    Altastjarro Sunset
  • At the end of a peninsula northwest of Reykjavik is a volcano called Snæfellsjökull, which translates to "snow mountain glacier." Without a guide or a 4x4 vehicle this glacier is not easy to reach. But I couldn't visit Iceland without finding some ice, so I headed up the road on foot instead to see how close I could get. Clouds swirled around the dome-shaped peak all day, offering only brief glimpses of the summit pillar. After passing the moss covered slopes I reached the top of a cinder cone at 800 meters, and slid to the bottom. With hands bloody from the sharp lava rocks, I made it to the foot of the glacier. The ice crunched beneath my feet as I slowly took a few steps and stopped at this crevasse. I don't know how deep it was, but didn't want to find out. Snæfellsjökull is one of the most famous sites in Iceland, in part because of the Jules Verne book, "Journey to the Center of the Earth." In the fictional book written in 1864, the passage to the center of the Earth begins here. With numerous caves found in the area and even holes that drop straight into the ocean, it's not hard to imagine how he got that idea.
    Blue Rift