I look forward to it every year. Hosted by Robin over at Breezes at Dawn, it’s so much fun to go for a walk and take a picture or two (or more if you’re me), blog about it and share it with others who are also out there taking walks and documenting what October looks like in their part of the world.
This year Robin needed a little help so I’m going to host our annual Walktober for her. That just means that I’ll be collecting all your posts and will put publish a blog after we’re all done with links to everyone’s walk descriptions.
How about we say the official dates of our Walktober will be October 15 through the 28th? Of course things are pretty informal around here so if you need some extra time just let me know and I’ll wait for you. And of course you can go on your adventure prior to the 15th too!
Even more important, it doesn’t even have to be a WALK! You could roller skate, or go on a bike ride, or ride a horse, or take a drive with your windows rolled down. You could climb a mountain, or dive down to a corral reef. Show us your city, or your countryside, or a favorite river or lake. Explore your own yard or travel to another country, it’s all fodder for a Walktober post.
Just get out there and show us your world.
Go on your adventure, write about it and include photos if you want to, and then link back to my blog. I’ll post an official kickoff on the 15th of October and you can link to that. But if you accidently link to something else let me know and I’ll go collect it!
We can’t wait to see what you choose to do! Happy Walktober!
I met Pops over a simple dinner at a chain restaurant in Arlington Virginia many years ago. It was the evening before our semi-annual Sorrow to Strength Conference, and Pops’ daughter, Pina, was attending for the first time. Her husband had been killed on his way to work when he was hit by a semitruck. My husband and I met her, her Pops and her mom, Veronica, for dinner to provide support and comfort, so she wouldn’t feel alone attending the conference the next day.
Of course she really wasn’t alone at all. She had her mom and her Pops, a retired Air Force Veteran, who pushed her around hilly Washington DC for the four days of the conference in a wheelchair because she was recovering from knee surgery.
But, getting back to Pops.
After dinner that night the waitress asked if we wanted desert. “Do you have any ice cream?” Pops asked. They did, but a limited variety. He hesitated. “I’ll have some if you do,” I said. They didn’t have his favorite flavor, but he decided we’d indulge because, he said grinning wide, “there’s no such thing as bad ice cream.”
I’ve never forgotten those words, or Pops, though we spent only a few days together.
Pops died last week at the age of 86, and yesterday his family and friends said their last goodbye. I remembered him in my own way, by picking up a container of his favorite flavor and indulging for a few moments, while thinking of him and his family.
There’s no such thing as bad ice cream.
I share this memory with you to honor Pops, in a way. He was a good, upstanding person with a sweet soul who made this world a better place. Thank you for your service, sir. And for joining me in a scoop of ice cream all those years ago.
A few days ago 3 other intrepid women photographers and I ventured forth to a new destination, Big Sable Lighthouse, at Ludington State Park.
The four of us plus puppy Wally walked out to the beach as the sun set.
We were, of course, looking for a dark place to shoot the Milky Way. We are all members of an online Milky Way photography class, though most of us had never met in person.
It was a beautiful pink and gold and navy evening.
We put this particular adventure together quickly, with a barrage of text messages flying between us, when we realized there was a clear night coming up. Then, the day before, someone did some research and messaged the group — “Do you know there’s a 2 mile walk out to the lighthouse?”
We’re headed up there.
Uhhhh, no, no we did not know that. This caused a bigger flurry of messaging and then someone finally just booked a campsite for us all at the park and we decided to go for it.
We had a beautiful night for our adventure, and the walk was shorter from the campground than from the lighthouse parking lot, only 1.5 miles through the woods and dunes. And of course 1.5 miles back in the dark, but underneath a star packed sky.
It’s a grand building, big enough to house 3 keeper’s families, back in the day.
Our biggest obstacle turned out not to be the getting there but the lights that surround the lighthouse. There is a big streetlight shining in front, and an obnoxiously orange light in back making the whole back of the lighthouse and most of the grounds glow neon.
Our first glimpse of the challenges that would be presented.
According to our apps the Milky Way, now pretty vertical, would be right alongside the tower about 10 p.m. We were convinced it would be a stunning shot.
Taken with my cell as we waited for dark skies.
If it weren’t for the orange light…and that big tree.
It became obvious to us as we waited that we weren’t going to get that dream image.
So we did the best we could with the lighthouse itself and then we spread out across the beach looking for other interesting things.
The Milky Way was up there, but faded out by all the light.
There was a gentle breeze sweeping away the bugs and the stars were hanging above us and no one was in any kind of hurry to leave.
Even down closer to the lakeshore the light was overpowering.
When we finally did begin to pack up around midnight I noticed my backpack was pretty wet from condensation. I began to realize the trouble I had had focusing on the stars, or anything for that matter, might have been because I had condensation on my lens.
I walked way out into the dunes and shot out over Lake Michigan. That’s a fishing boat down near the bottom left.
Condensation which would have been eliminated if I had put my lens heater on the camera at the start. The lens heater I bought the week before and lugged 1.5 miles out to the beach, but left in my backpack.
Sometimes you just have to go right up to your target.
Yep. One more lesson in a whole list of lessons I’ve learned on this Milky Way journey.
Another lesson – when you’re focused in one direction don’t forget to turn and look the other way once in awhile.
As a side note, there’s been quite a bit of death tangent to my life this past week. Not people directly tied to me, exactly, but people important to people important to me. I guess the heavens gained a few more stars.
A few more stars twinkle this week.
Late that night while listening to the lake murmur and wandering the dunes, watching the Milky Way slide across the sky I noted the newcomers.
And then we all walked back to camp under the umbrella of the starry night, content in our imperfect images, happy that we went, ready to do it again the next clear, moonless night.
If you can’t visit New York City, stop by my post from our visit there in 2016. It’s a fitting way to spend a few moments on this, the 22nd anniversary of the day that changed us all.
I’m sure the families of those lost are spending today in reflection. It wouldn’t hurt if we did a little of that ourselves.
Twenty-two years is a long time, but only a blink in the eyes of history. Let’s not ever forget.
I took myself to Kensington a week or maybe more ago, hoping to get some great bird photos. There’s always something to see out there, and the warblers are migrating, so maybe…I hoped.
This is one of my favorite trees, just before the nature center, a little island in the shallow end of the big lake.
But the entire time I was at the park I had camera lens focus issues.
The morning sun rose and lit this egret in the middle of his (or her) morning routine.
My images were so bad I almost forgot about them. But regardless of the quality, I’ll share with you the best of what I consider a pretty sad batch of images, just because no matter what I capture, even if it’s not much of anything new, I’m always glad I went to Kensington.
There was less light down on the water where I startled this young wood duck.
And I’m always glad to share with you my adventures, as tame as they often are.
The blue heron, drying off in the morning light wasn’t interesting in anything moving on the lake below.
A lot of the time on this walk I took pictures of plants. Because, as I told one photographer last year who was noticing me focusing on berries instead of birds, plants don’t move.
Thistle and cobwebs.
In fact, this trip to Kensington I spent most of my time looking at the way light played in the dark woods.
My artsy-fartsy image for this post.
Turns out it plays rather well, don’t you think?
But of course the birds kept bringing me back as they hovered over me, sometimes landing on my camera lens, asking for something to eat. They are very persistent.
Hey lady! Did you bring the suet balls or the peanuts today?
It’s pretty hard to ignore them, even if you aren’t happy with the images you’re getting.
A cedar waxwing kept his distance.
Sometimes I just feed them and don’t even bother trying to capture the magic.
Out of focus, but still fun.
Other times the birds and the light work together and I get something interesting.
A titmouse backlit by the morning sun.
I had so much trouble on this walk through the woods, capturing anything the way I wanted to, it got discouraging.
Early morning goldenrod.
Focusing on plants as a last resort I wandered some more.
More joe pye this year than I’ve ever seen before.
I eventually decided it just wasn’t going to be my day, and headed back toward the car.
Even the chipmunks turned away from me.
But just before I got to the parking lot I saw one more trail, one that headed out to where I sometimes saw unusual stuff. It wasn’t a long trail.
Noisy high iso, but the wings are still cool.
Maybe it was worth a bit more walking.
A whole family was enjoying a bug buffet.
And there I found a dead tree, quite a ways away, but full of some sort of woodpecker family.
I thought it might be a group of red headed woodpeckers. The light made it difficult to see anything but silhouettes. But looking at the images later I saw the yellow on the underside of a wing, and I believe this was a flicker family.
You took my gnat! I’m going to go tell mom!
Regardless, they were very busy hopping around the tree looking for bugs and flitting from branch to branch.
And while I was focused on them I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye, way down at the other end of the bridge. Something fliting around the touch-me-not flowers, far from where I was standing.
What is that, way down there at the other end of the bridge?
I shot blindly, not seeing anything in my viewfinder…
Why look! It’s a hungry hummer!
…but hoping for something. And the most beautiful female hummingbird showed up when I looked at the images at home.
I’ve never seen hummingbirds out at the park before.
She sure made me smile.
And then there was a noise on the other side of the bridge and I found this little female common yellowthroat. She made my day!
Isn’t she pretty?
So the moral of my story is don’t give up. Walk down that little extra trail even if all you’ve had before is disappointment.
Looking for lunch.
You never know what you’ll find. It could be magic.
I even found a chipmunk that didn’t turn his back on me!
It all started yesterday early afternoon when I noticed a lot of chatter on Facebook about potential aurora borealis that night.
I ended up just past the sign up on that dune.
Apparently the indicator numbers were good, and if it weren’t for that pesky 3/4 moon coming up early in the evening there would almost certainly be a spectacular show.
Love golden light, but not when I’m trying to capture the northern lights!
So many times I’ve seen notices of potential northern lights and so many times I’ve decided it wasn’t worth the 4+ hour drive over to the western side of Michigan on the off chance there might be a show.
So many times I’ve kicked myself when I see images posted the next day of what I might have seen if I’d gone.
It was a lovely sunset regardless of how the night played out.
So this time I decided to just take the chance. I left home at 5 p.m. and was at a dark sky park at Port Crescent in the thumb of Michigan, along Saginaw Bay, by 7:30.
Of course there’s no guarantee that the lights will show up. Or when they might show up. What was guaranteed was the arrival of the moon, about 9:30 which would wash any borealis out.
At last the sun gave up and sank, leaving those last bits of daylight reaching up into the sky for a few minutes more.
As you can tell, I sat on the beach and watched the sun set, and then I went back to the car, changed camera lenses, got the camera all ready to go with manual settings and attached to a tripod and snuggled down with a pillow and a blanket to wait for full dark.
Lots of people on the beach waiting for the next light show to begin.
I was pretty antsy and never did take a nap. I was worried that I’d be sleeping in my car on one side of the dunes while the light was dancing out over the bay on the other side!
The view outside my car window, is that faint green I see?
So as soon as it was close to dark I was out of the car and heading for the dunes. There were plenty of other people already out there, so I found a spot between photographers and decided to practice my Milky Way star focus skills while I waited. After all the moon wasn’t up yet, and I could see the Milky Way right there…even though I wasn’t thrilled with the composition, it was better than sitting around doing nothing.
No northern lights, so I might as well practice my Milky Way skills.
And in the middle of my second shot, with me and my camera facing south I heard the woman just down the path from me begin to squeal. I couldn’t turn my camera around fast enough, and when I did this is what I saw.
Be still my heart.
Well, not exactly saw, because to the naked eye it was just this moving mass of grey out over the black lake. But the camera saw it for what it was, stunning pink and green light.
I never saw the people on the beach below me until I looked at the imamges on my computer.
The woman next to me told her family, “See?! Aren’t you glad I dragged you out here for this!” I didn’t hear the kids’ answers, but I’m pretty sure everyone out there last night was glad they were there.
The light began to shoot up into the sky.
I kept clicking as fast as I could, trying different fstops, and shutter speeds. At one point I must have accidently touched the focus ring because I have a whole lot of images that are totally out of focus.
I’m not going to show you those. Just know it happens to all of us.
I like the people included in the image, it shows the perspective and sheer size of the dancing lights.
Luckily I knew enough to check the focus on occasion, so I was able to salvage the rest. Mostly.
After about 20 minutes over my right shoulder I noticed different light. It was the most beautiful, huge, orange 3/4 moon, creeping up through the limbs of a tree.
Uh oh. An interloper is coming to spoil the party. Notice the woman on the hill with her camera and tripod?
I wished I had my other lens on the camera (but it was back at the car). I wished I had two cameras going. But there was no time, so I kept focusing on those lights out over the water, knowing they’d soon be fading.
One of my favorite images from the night. Someone said I’d captured the one-eyed aliens, and I have to agree it looks like I have!
The moon crept higher and higher, and the lights began to fade. People began to leave, shining their flashlights in my face and into my frame as they climbed the dune to head back to the parking lot. I was loathe to go, the warm summer night and soft breeze off of the lake complimented the extraordinary sight of the lights dancing and shooting pillars up higher and higher in the sky.
A night I’m never going to forget.
I didn’t leave until the color faded away, and then I reluctantly put the lens cap back on and started down the dune toward the car.
Lots of people were still walking out over the dunes, headed to the beach. Every group stopped me, a person obviously carrying a fancy camera and a tripod, to ask if I’d seen anything.
I couldn’t begin to describe what I’d just experienced. I just told them all it had been wonderful but had faded now.
The soft faded color was a gentler version of what I had just witnessed.
I encouraged them all to go out to the beach anyway and stand under the stars to admire the beautiful moon. Most of them did.
As for me? I’m so glad I took a leap of faith and went north to see the lights. I’m so glad I didn’t nap the evening away in my car. I’m so glad the lights decided to cooperate and dance for those 20 or 30 minutes before the moon encroached on our party.
The big dipper is more obvious once the main show is over.
And I’m forever grateful to my Milky Way teacher for instilling in me the confidence to stand by myself (along with 20 or 30 other photographers, all strangers, but all united in one goal) out under the stars and appreciate what I see overhead.
I haven’t stopped smiling since I heard that first squeal and turned to watch the magic explode above us.
That darn moon. Still beautiful even less than full.
Lessons learned: Don’t think about things too much, just go. Bring bug spray. Long pants and sturdy shoes are a must. Check your focus regularly. Don’t forget to stop and internalize the experience, it’s not all about the pictures. Encourage everyone else to stand out under the stars at least once.
And now I’m encouraging you. If you get the chance…just go.
Everybody has seen a moon image somewhere on social media today. Or maybe you saw the moon yourself last night, so many of us stood out under the sky as the full moon rose.
I thought about going to a darker location with a clear view of the horizon, but I couldn’t make myself go scout for a place like that before dark fell. So last night, about 9:30, I stood in my front yard and watched the moon rise above the neighbor’s trees.
It was sweet.
I didn’t even mind if I got the shot. It was just nice to be out under the stars watching the moon and thinking about all the people all over the country who were out there doing the same thing.
Night sky photography is a kind of community, even if you never meet any of the others you feel good knowing they’re out there looking at the same sky, no matter where they, and you, are.
Well. You may have noticed that I was not included in any of mom and my Auntie B’s adventures.
I don’t know how they could have left me out!
I would like to point out that I am a big girl now and I think I should be included in everything my people do! Don’t you agree with me?
Don’t you like the way my fur is starting to flow in the wind?
After all, I will turn 9 months old next week, and that’s pretty old if you ask me. Don’t ask my folks, they still treat me like a baby.
Well, OK, sometimes I DO still get a little bit scared.
Anyway, once mom and Auntie B returned home, with plenty of great smells on them I might add, I insisted on going with them everywhere, and a couple of days that everywhere included a local park next to our town’s small cemetery where my aunt could practice her bagpipes for an upcoming competition she will be in.
This is my Auntie putting in her ear protection. I noted I didn’t get any ear protection.
She said she hadn’t played in way too long and she needed to practice somewhere. I guess you can’t play the bagpipes just any ole place.
Wait a minute, mom! What’s she doing?
At first I wasn’t sure about the bagpipe sound, but mom urged me to come with her for a walk and we left my aunt to play in the park while we explored the cemetery next door.
I found out there were lots of whirly-gigs and flags flapping over there and I wasn’t too sure about all that at first.
Hmmmm….this stuff moves!
Then I found this little dog and I tried to talk to him, but he was more the silent type.
Hey buddy! Wanna play?
And then I saw this little boy and tried to play with him, but he wouldn’t move and suddenly that scared me so I went and hid behind my mom’s legs.
Maybe YOU will play with me?
That’s ok, right mom? Whenever I get scared I can hide behind you, right?
I’ll just rest a moment back here, OK mom?
Anyway, I practiced sitting pretty a lot, and getting my picture taken. My sister, angel Katie, says that’s just part of the game plan when you live with our mom.
OK, mom, I’ll sit here. But I’m not going to look happy about it.Unless you have cheese?
I’m getting pretty good at it too, though Katie says I need to be more insistent on getting my share of treats for the work I do modeling.
Sometimes mom gets kinda close, but I’m not afraid of the camera any more.
I’m getting prettier and prettier by the day now, so I don’t mind showing off.
Mom says it’s all about the light, but I know it’s really all about me!
Meanwhile my Aunt played on.
She played way on the other side of the park. It sounded cool!
And the resident cranes listened too.
Mom wouldn’t let me go say hi to them.
We all had a very good time, both days we wet to this park, and I guess I’ll call this a mini adventure, but I’m telling you, I’m up for something truly epic.
This was not really adventurous, mom. Try to do better, OK?
Change Is Hard 