Another Moonrise

The nearly full moon rises above the winter-bare grasslands of Williamson Valley north of Prescott in late February 2013. The Earth's shadow just after sunset provides the blue-to-violet color gradation.

Williamson Valley, Yavapai County, Arizona.

Snowy Shrub Live Oak, Prescott National Forest

[Photo: Shrub Live Oak in snow and frost]

The morning after the first major winter storm was clear and cold. The clouds had moved on, bringing a frozen but beautiful start to the day on the Prescott National Forest in central Arizona. 

Wading through the snow, I photographed subjects distant and close. In this photo, the sun had cleared the hills to the east, to light up the branches and foliage of a shrub live oak bush. 

Prescott National Forest, Prescott, Arizona

Sunrise Colors, Pittman Valley

Intense dawn colors in the east over the San Francisco Peaks, from Pittman Valley between Parks and Williams, Arizona.

As usual, it's the positioning of the clouds above the horizon that determines how the colors will be. The clouds reflect the rays of the yet-unrisen sun. If there are no clouds, the colors will be greatly subdued. Too many clouds and the colors will be cut off. 

In this image, some ponds in the foreground added a powerful reflection accent.

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Highway 89 Monsoon Afternoon

Northern Arizona. North of Flagstaff, north of Cameron. Echo Cliffs on the right.

South of the Arizona Strip, still. Not for long, though. We're continuing north.

Monsoon thunderstorm season in Arizona. Moisture from the Pacific Ocean synergizing with the blue Arizona sky.

Desert meets sky in late summer.

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Baby Acorns, Northern Arizona

Gambel Oak foliage and acorns, July 26

Tiny, growing acorns on a Gambel Oak tree in the Coconino National Forest near Flagstaff, Arizona.


Looks like this fall's acorn crop is coming along quite nicely. One of the beautiful, subtle joys of summer in the forest.

Cloud Light, Flagstaff, Arizona

Clouds lit up by the bright Arizona sunlight. Clouds blocking the sun, creating ephemeral shadows on the mountain slopes.

San Francisco Peaks, northern Arizona.

Northern Arizona Monsoon Season Approaches

Thunderhead cloud and Ponderosa pines, Flagstaff, Arizona

It's monsoon thunderstorm season here in northern Arizona, but with it being a La Nina weather pattern year, it's still dry. Far too dry. Extreme forest fires danger, but so far nothing like what's happened recently on the Colorado Front Range. 

This week there has at least been enough moisture inland from the Pacific Ocean to return some cumulus clouds, thunderheads, and very widely scattered showers. I love the clear blue Arizona sky, but cumulus clouds and t-heads accent it so beautifully.

Flagstaff, Arizona (where 85F is "hot"). 

Into the Fins, Arches

Arches National Park, Utah

On the trail to Sandstone Arch, I enter a tiny portion of the vast sandstone fins. 


Cool in the vertical stone shadows, with soft diffused light and bright blue sky and sunlight streaks above. Peaceful, mesmerizing. 


All but impossible to portray photographically. Thus, especially intriguing.


Arches National Park, near Moab, Utah.

Edge of the Furnace, Arches

Arches National Park, Utah

The Fiery Furnace area of Arches National Park is an uplifted, eroded seam of red sandstone. 


The "fiery" part of its name comes from warm, low sunlight glowing off the red sandstone cliffs, hoodoos and pillars at sunset. Meanwhile, through the day, the innumerable vertical fins of red stone create deep, cool shadows. And, apparently, a maze of places to walk and become lost. Literally. So the area is restricted to exploration in the presence of one of the park rangers. 


In this photo, the sandstone fins form an exquisite foreground for the expansive sweep of the high desert valleys, on to the snowy La Sal mountain range on the far horizon.


Arches National Park, near Moab, Utah

Prickly Pear Blossoms

Prickly Pear Cactus Blossoms, Coconino National Forest, northern Arizona

You know it's finally summer at 7,000 feet in the cool mountain pine forests of northern Arizona when the prickly pear cactus plants blossom.


There aren't many of them up here in the Ponderosa forest. It must be at the very upper edge of their natural range. So, when I found these few, it was all the more special. I visit them at this time each year. Mid June. 


Coconino National Forest, north of Flagstaff, Arizona

Forest Fern, Evening Light

Fern, evening light, Coconino National Forest, Arizona [click on photo for larger version]

Nature is my cathedral, my church. Appreciation, respect, and humility are my religion.

This is from my campsite last evening on the Coconino National Forest and the Coconino Plateau, at about 7,500 feet in northern Arizona. A fern lit up by the low afternoon sunlight slipping between the Ponderosa pine trees. 


No neighbors except the birds and whatever four legged animals were around but did not make themselves apparent. 


No visitors except two Forest Service guys making sure I was not going to violate the ban on campfires, because the springtime woods have been so typically dry. "And don't leave any food outside the vehicle. There are bears here, and they're always hungry." That much I knew, but I appreciated the reminder. 


Followed by a peaceful night of the breeze whispering in the pines and aspens, then the rising half moon and the stars. Peaceful, soothing night. In the cathedral.

Sandstone Patterns, Zion National Park

Hiking up the switchbacks of the West Rim Trail in Zion National Park, I was taken by the patterns of these red-gold sandstone layers, the curving vertical cracks, and the soft reflected light. 


Zion National Park is located in Southwest Utah, near the edge of the Colorado Plateau. 

Jewel Rock, Red Mountain

"Jewel Rock", upheld by pinnacles in the amphitheater at Red Mountain

Erosion is the process wherein beautiful things are created as they fall apart.

The amphitheater at Red Mountain on the Coconino National Forest northwest of Flagstaff, Arizona is a perfect example. 

Red Mountain is a 1,000 foot tall cinder cone volcano created from a fiery crack in the earth about a million years ago. Some time later, its northeast flank blew out in another explosion, and its exposed innards have eroded into weird and wonderful pinnacles called "hoodoos".

In this photo, a harder boulder came to rest upon relatively softer material, which seem to be holding it up to the sky. It's like a diamond in its setting on a ring. 

Down the Wash, Red Mountain

Hiking down the wash from the volcanic amphitheater at Red Mountain, Coconino National Forest (click on image for a larger version)

Red Mountain on the Coconino National Forest north of Flagstaff, Arizona is a million year old, thousand foot tall cinder cone volcano. Was, that is.

The U.S. Forest Service trail that accesses the amphitheater on the east side of the mountain drops down into the wash that drains it, on the final approach. You hike right up the wash. It's not as if you're trampling any vegetation, because desert washes are so inhospitable to vegetation. Any significant rains above become flash floods, small or large. 

Besides, the steep, loose, ever-eroding volcanic soil slopes on either side could not support a trail anyway.

Afternoon Moon Over Cliffs, Red Mountain

Half Moon over Red Mountain Amphitheater Cliffs, Coconino National Forest, Arizona
(click on image for larger version)

Hiking today at Red Mountain on the Coconino National Forest north of Flagstaff, I noticed the moon almost half full, high in the afternoon sky.

That means: Full Moon is only about a week away. 

Sure enough, checking the calendar, it will occur on Monday, June 4, at 4:11 AM. So get up early to check it out, then let me know how it was. I'll still be sleeping. 

Why? Because I almost always get my best full moon landscape shots the night before Full Moon, or even two nights before. The upcoming Full Moon is a great case in point. It officially occurs at 4:11, which means that for all practical purposes it will look full on Sunday night when it rises at 19:08 (7:08 PM), near sunset time (19:36, or 7:36 PM). 

Saturday evening, two nights before official Full Moon, could well be even better, depending on what you choose to have in the foreground, such as a tall cityscape, mountain, cliff, etc. 

Almost Ready to Launch, Lees Ferry

[Photo: River rafters and morning light, Lees Ferry, Colorado River, Arizona]

A private river rafting party finishes breakfast and whatever other last minute preparations at its camp on the banks of the Colorado River at Lees Ferry in northern Arizona. 

Historic Lees Ferry is the put-in point for all boats that are going to run Grand Canyon.

In the background are the Vermilion Cliffs, glowing orange in the morning sunlight, and reflected off the river's surface.

You might also be interested in my Grand Canyon Photography blog.

Chasing April Moonrise, Northern Arizona

Chasing April Moonrise

[Photo: Moonrise over Sunset Crater Volcano.
Click on image for larger version.]

The hunt for this month's Full Moon moonrise shots began last week on Tuesday, four days before the Full Moon on Friday. 

That's right: you have to get rolling early, or it will pass you by again for another month. Time, and the Full Moon, waits for no one.

That's especially true because there's this phenomenon known as "the weather". Even here in sunny Arizona, you just can't trust it. Especially around the Full Moon. 

[Photo: Moonrise over Sunset Crater.
Click on image for larger version.]

My favorite day of the month for shooting nature landscapes featuring the moonrise is the day before the Full Moon. Yes, one day early. Why? Because the Full Moon occurs at sunset, and by the time it clears what's on the eastern horizon (forests, hills, mountains, etc.) it's often too dark to capture anything other than the moon. 

But since the moon rises about 50 minutes later each day, by shooting the day before the Full Moon, you have almost an extra hour of daylight to work with. Two days before, almost two hours more. It doesn't matter that the moon isn't quite fully illuminated. It still looks great. 

A place like Flagstaff, Arizona is great for moonrise shots. It has untold acres of public land, enjoys a lot of clear sky days, and has such a variety of environments relatively nearby, from the San Francisco Peaks to the smaller volcanic mountains, to the Painted Desert, and the red rock canyons of Sedona. Plus, it's not a congested city like Phoenix. Here you can get outta town in a few minutes.

So this time I launched myself north, onto the Coconino National Forest via US 89. Tuesday, with the lengthening spring days affording more time to get on location before moonrise. 

[Photo: Moonrise over Wukoki Pueblo Ruin.
Click on image for larger version.]

Exiting the highway onto the road into Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument, we viewed the colorful cinder cone hulk itself from the open expanses of Bonito Park. The moon had been up for two hours already. I drove on, looking for a suitable foreground before the sun went down.

North of Sunset Crater, I drove down out of the Ponderosa pine forest zone and onto the southwestern reaches of the Painted Desert. On Wupatki National Monument, we stopped to check out the Wukoki Pueblo ruin. Built atop a big chunk of red sandstone, it was three stories high and housed two or three families. With a sweeping view all around, it's a fascinating piece of prehistory.

[Photo: Moonrise at dusk, Wukoki Pueblo Ruin.
Click on image for larger version.]

This is a good example of using something tall in the foreground when the moon's this high in the sky before Full Moon.

On Wednesday I was glad that I got some shots the evening before, because the eastern horizon was clouded out. The weather thing.

So I was banking on Thursday, the day before Full Moon, to be there for me. As the afternoon wore on it wasn't looking very promising. Lots of blue sky, but lots of clouds in the east, too. 

At 5:00 PM it was decision time: go for it, or go home. The eastern skyline was mostly cloudy, but there was a significant patch of it that was clear. Maybe, just maybe...

[Photo: Sunset at Doney Mountain.
Click on image for larger version.]

I drove north to Sunset Crater again. The view from Bonito Park was nice except that the sun wasn't shining on the volcano, due to clouds around the San Francisco Peaks to the west. Another decision point: hang out here, or try for something more dramatic further north. I felt like going for it.

Another 30 miles north, I pulled off the highway onto the north end of Wupatki National Monument. This time I headed for the Lomaki pueblo ruins, which are small but quite photogenic. My planning, using the excellent The Photographer's Ephemeris, gave me a good idea of where the moon would rise, and when. But when I got to the parking lot and trailhead for the ruins, I could see that I was shut out by the clouds. The open part of the horizon was further south from this vantage.

[Photo: Sunset light on trail up Doney Mountain.
Click on image for larger version.]

So I drove south, hoping for a suitable angle and location for the moonrise. I was the only vehicle on the road through this desolate, beautiful landscape. The low angle of the sun was lighting up the blond dead winter grasses, blowing in the strong springtime wind.

The Loop Road through Wupatki and Sunset Crater briefly wanders onto the Coconino National Forest. There, the Forest Service has a little parking lot with a short, easy trail up Doney Mountain, which is actually three volcanic cinder cones. You get to hike up the smaller two. 

But more importantly on this crucial April evening, it looked like it might just be a suitable location to photograph the moonrise. So I hit the trail. 

[Photo: Moonrise from Doney Mountain.
Click on image for larger version.]

What a great spot. Wild land all around, a clear view. No powerlines, or people. The wind was so fierce that it seemed to almost knock me over, but it was a small price to pay.

I made a few shots from the summit of the smallest cinder cone. No moon in sight. Where would it appear, relative to the cloud bank on the horizon? Would the clouds block moonrise totally, until it was too dark for a good moonrise shot?

Meanwhile, I was enjoying the scenery, and eyeing the trail up the taller cinder cone. Wondering what sunset shots might await me there. I started up its trail.

[Photo: Moonrise from Doney Mountain.
Click on image for larger version.]

But I didn't get far. There was the moon, seemingly out of nowhere. Stop, set up tripod, shoot. Make a variety of compositions from close up to wide angle, with the sunset coloring the clouds.

Finally the sun was down, it was getting dark. I walked the trail back down to my truck. The ever brilliant, ever rising moon "followed me home" on the drive back to Flagstaff.

Friday, the night of the Full Moon, was clouded out. See why I start three or four days early?

You might also be interested in my Grand Canyon Photography blog.

  

Planning Moonrise Shoots with The Photographer's Emphemeris

[Photo: Moonrise above the pines.
Click on image for larger version.]

Ok, so let's say that you know the Full Moon is coming in a few days and you want to be ready, to have a good location planned for the moonrise in the early evening (or moonset in the morning).

Unless you're using a brightly lit cityscape as the landscape, the best evenings to get great moonrise shots are the night before the full moon, or sometimes even two nights before.

Why? Because on the night of the actual full moon it usually comes up too late to have enough natural light from sunset-time to illuminate the scenery. And, again, for nature landscapes if you wait until the full moon you will merely have a bright round disk in the black sky and nothing else.

The moon rises approximately 40 minutes later each day. Thus it rises about 40 minutes earlier each day, too. So your moonrise scenes the night before (or two nights before) the full moon will have a naturally lit landscape with the moon so close to full that it's hard to tell it's still a day or two shy of full.

But where in the eastern sky will the moon rise this time? It varies by month, through the seasons. It doesn't always rise straight due east. Far from it.

Fortunately there is a free computer app on the Web called The Photographer's Ephemeris (TPE) that takes the guesswork out of it. Go to http://photoephemeris.com/ and install it on your machine. (There is even a smart phone app available for a small fee, for you wild and crazy on the go types).

Then open that puppy up and type in the location you want to check out. TPE then shows the moonrise/moonset and sunrise/sunset for each day that week. You can jump ahead to any date on the calendar. (The light blue line is where the moon will rise; the dark blue the angle at which it will set). Along with the azimuth (angle in degrees on a compass, if you want to get that accurate).

Also onscreen (see below) is a Google Map for your location, with colored lines depicting the direction of moonrise/moonset, etc.

But you don't have to be a surveyor to make great use of this tool, and easily. Here is a real world example from earlier this month.

Let's say that you have a local volcano that you would love to have the moon rise over, so you can zoom in on both and thrill your fans on Google+. (What, you don't live near a volcano? Really? There are many old volcanoes here near Flagstaff, Arizona. So if you want one to photograph, move here.)

Anyway, one of my favorite local volcanoes is on the Coconino National Forest about 12 miles north of town, and there is a big mountain meadow named Bonito Park that has a clear view of this 1,000 foot tall volcano named Sunset Crater almost smack dab to the east. Where the moon will rise, somewhere. Perfect.

I started with my TPE map set on downtown Flagstaff, to get an idea of the direction in which the moon would rise. Way north of East at this time of the year. Meaning way north of Sunset Crater, like I figured having seen it much the same last month.

To verify, I zoomed in on the map and moved the red "pin" to where I knew the turnout on the entrance road along Bonito Park is. Yep, looks like the moon will rise well to the north of the stately young (only about 950 years old) volcano.

As you can see from my highly technical in-the-field photo illustration, the moon did rise as predicted, affording no closeup of our beautiful lunar satellite rising over the big cinder cone. Only a wide angle shot, though it was fine enough, considering.

Note that even at dusk like this, you can capture the Earth's shadow on the eastern horizon if you have a clear enough view, and detail in the foreground, etc. If I had waited until the following evening all I would have had was the bright moon in a black sky.

Skipping ahead month by month on TPE's calendar, I see the moon's angle traveling steadily southward, toward due East. In April it looks like it will rise right over the behemoth. Guess where I'll be the night before Full Moon in April. And the night before that, for good measure.

So why don't I merely Photoshop the moon in, over the volcano? That's no fun to me. By studying what's going on, where the moon and sun will be through the seasons, is a large part of the satisfaction.

But that's just me. You do what you want.

You might also be interested in my Grand Canyon Photography blog.

Photographing Fall Foliage Close Up

[Photo: Gambel Oak fall foliage colors, Arizona]

Gambel Oak Leaf, Coconino National Forest, Arizona

To make an outstanding photo of tree leaves, especially in the fall, you don't need a really expensive camera and lens, or special filters or techniques. All you really need is your eyes, your brain, and your feet. 

Granted, this photograph was made with a fairly expensive DSLR camera, but all it did was to give me more control. I would have gone about this shot the same with with a point-and-shoot camera. 

This photo is engaging primarily because of its rainbow like range of colors. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue. But it also gives the feeling of depth,  of being there, even though you're looking at it on a flat screen. 

Why? Contrast. The leaf is in focus, while the background is blurry. Feeling of depth. The colors in the background contrast with the colors in the leaf. Also, I walked around until the sun lit up the leaf from behind. But in a position that it was not only backlit, but had the dark green of the conifer trees and the deep blue of the clear Arizona sky as the background.

I was close enough to the leaf, and the pine trees were far enough away, for them to be blurry no matter what lens aperture was used. All I needed was a lens aperture deep enough to have the entire leaf in focus. Or nearly all of it. 

You might also be interested in my Grand Canyon Photography blog.

See more of my photography at www.naturalmoment.com. 

San Francisco Peaks Early Snow Panorama

[Photo: San Francisco Peaks panorama, Flagstaff, Arizona. Click on picture for larger version.]

Early October in northern Arizona. It's fall, and high elevation, so anything can happen, weather wise.

The weather had been Indian Summer perfect, if a bit warm during the day. No problem for us fall colors afictionados, because the nights had been chilly without a hard freeze. Plus plenty of sunshine during the day; after all, this is Arizona. Aspen trees are good with that as they feel their way toward winter. Leaves remain on, chlorophyll (the green stuff) going away to reveal the yellow stuff.

Then an early winter storm arrived. The snow in the high elevations was beautiful, as always. But it was weeks early, probably killing the aspen colors. They will probably just drop and call it a winter. We will see.

You might also be interested in my Grand Canyon Photography blog.