I’ve been waiting for a clear night with no moon and Saturday night/Sunday morning was it. It’s early Milky Way season and it would be visible for a couple hours before sunrise.
I just had to find a dark place to wait.
I got up at 2:00 a.m. Sunday morning, got to Shiawasee Nature Preserve, about an hour north of me, by 3:30. I thought I was prepared. I knew which direction to look. I had the Skyview app loaded in my phone. I had a compass. I’d been there during the daytime and had scoped out a spot to stand that was very near where my car would be parked.
So it was with high hopes I got out of the car in 32 degree weather (but no wind!) wearing a winter coat, scarf, hat, and gloves. I walked the few feet to my chosen spot, set up the tripod and pointed it to the SE. And saw….nothing. A few stars. Nothing much was visible because the light from Flint, 28 miles away, was overwhelming.
I began to doubt myself. Maybe it wasn’t really in the SE. Maybe it was more South by now. After all it was last week I had the training that said Southeast…maybe it moves faster than I imagined. I couldn’t remember the name of the constelations I was supposed to use to find the Milky Way. I couldn’t figure out how to put Antaras (a star) into the Skyview app on my phone to find it.
I was reduced to randomly pointing the camera at the sky in any location I thought it might be and shooting. I saw a few bright stars I thought might be the ‘teapot’ and concentrated on that section of the sky. But that was due South, and I knew that wasn’t right. Still, looking to the Southeast was just too bright.
As I played with my settings I couldn’t check to see if my images were getting better or worse because the back of my camera went black. Apparently I had touched some random button that disabled the live view. Sigh.
I tried the proven trick of upping my iso to the highest it could go, just so I could see what was there, and it was totally blown out white. I tried lowering it some, still white. My fingers were getting cold. My toes were numb. I’d been out there for an hour getting nothing.
In fact, this is my favorite shot from Sunday morning.
My fingers were numb and I didn’t realize I had hit the remote shutter button when I moved the camera.
When I got home I found this image, as the best of the bunch. The Milky Way is in there, if you squint hard and use your imagination. I’ve tried editing it to bring it out more…but I can’t figure that out either on this one. Trying to bring the Milky Way lights up while dimming the Flint dome light is just so hard.
If you sit in a dark room, blow this up, and squint you should be able to see the MW over on the left.
So I reluctantly posted my image on our group’s Facebook page, explaining my issues (well, the issues revolving photography anyway!) and look below at what someone did for me! They edited it so that you can actually see the Milky Way.
Thank you Geralynn Dykstra for the edit!!!!
I’m not so discouraged now. I DID get the Milky Way in the image! I even got stars reflected in the strip of water! I won’t go out to this location for another attempt, there’s just way too much light. But I’ll keep going to dark sky places and I know that eventually I’ll capture the sky the way I see it in my head.
A week or two ago I made a last minute decision to head back up into the thumb of Michigan, because the weather was going to be clear, and because I was able to book a campsite.
On the way up I, naturally, shot a few photogenic barns.
I wanted to try one more time to get that elusive Milky Way in a place that is darker than my Bortle 4/5 here at home.
My fovorite barn in the thumb, it’s located near Pigion, Michigan. Of course.
Plus, I knew I’d get to drive through those yellow soybean fields again, and I might find a barn or two or three worth stopping for.
Red barns in a yellow soybean field.
And of course I did.
Once I set up camp at the Port Crescent State Park I meandered further up into the thumb until I arrived at Pointe aux Barques Lighthouse, a place Katie and I had visited a time or two in years past.
The original lighthouse was built in 1848. In 1857 this structure was built after a fire.
There’s a campground attached to the grounds that I hoped was empty. It wasn’t, but it wasn’t as full as it would be in the summer. So I wandered around the lighthouse grounds and then waited for the sky to get dark.
Lights from the campground and the light tower lit up the other buildings.
The Milky Way, up in the Southwest early in the evening this time of year, wasn’t in a position to be over the lighthouse, but it was above the other historical structures on the grounds.
Light and shadows interfering from every angle.
The challenge, as it always is with a lighthouse, was the bright light the tower itself was projecting. I tried to time my 15 second shot to be between the beams of light, but it was hard. Plus there was the campground, with it’s green lights and cars coming and going.
If you make this bigger you might see what might be a couple of meteors above and to the right of the tree.
So, once again, I wasn’t thrilled with the Milky Way images, but shooting out over Saginaw Bay was fun. There was a tree on the top of the bluff, and the Big Dipper was just above it. Though it’s hard to see the Big Dipper because the camera sees so many more stars than our eyes do.
This meteor was more pronounced.And you can see the Big Dipper in this, darker, version of the scene.
Regardless of the results, and as always, I loved being out there. The air was warm, the stars were bright, the moon had taken a nap, there were people nearby but not too close and I could hear the waves lapping at the bottom of the bluff.
A perfect place to sleep in late the next morning.
This might have been my last attempt for this Milky Way season. October won’t have many opportunities, and we’ll have to see what the weather does. I plan to spend the winter studying the information in my Milky Way Photography class.
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.
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.
No, not that kind of struggle…the struggle to capture the night sky image I have in my head. Sometimes I think I should just get another head.
See that shadow hump in the foreground? That’s me hunkered down behind the camera, due to my neighbors GIGANTIC light hanging over her garage. Sigh.And the lights on the right are from my house.
This week we finally had a clear night. I swear, we hadn’t seen the sun in weeks here in Michigan, but one day this week the sun graced us with her presence and I excitedly watched the weather guy to see if we were going to keep those clear skies overnight.
Well…sort of…but it was the best we’d had in forever, so I figured I’d run over to a local park where I thought the skies would be darker than Katie’s park here in town. I was going to go over around 9 p.m., figuring it would be true dark by then. But I’m older now and was already yawning at 8. And it looked pretty darn dark to me even that early.
I moved, so it’s somewhat better. And you can see a couple stars if you look carefully, so it’s all good.
So off I went, camera on the tripod, settings already entered. Remote shutter thingy attached. Extra batteries in my pocket. Handwarmer in there too. It was 17F out there.
As I drove the few miles to the park I didn’t see another car. Good. I don’t really want anyone to know I’m at the park after dark. I just want to grab a few practice shots and get out of there and back to my nice warm house.
But just as I got to the park entrance, beginning my turn in off a narrow country road, a car came up over the hill from the other direction, bright lights glaring. We both stopped for a moment, and then I continued on, not wanting them to see me pull into the park. I drove about half a mile away, turned around at the next road and went back.
WordPress always shows images darker than I’ve edited them. Lots of light over there.Plus some clouds moving in.
All was still. I texted my husband that I was there, and was reaching for my camera when a car, possibly the same car, pulled into the parking lot and parked at the other end.
Well. I’m not getting out of my car. In fact I locked the doors and waited a few minutes. I’m pretty sure they were doing the same thing. I couldn’t think of one good reason for anyone to be out there long after dark unless, of course, they too wanted to shoot the stars. And what were the odds of that?
So I backed up, shot out of the parking lot, and went home. I think I was gone all of 20 minutes. I was so frustrated I decided to at least take a picture of the tree in our yard, still decked out in lights. I figured the camera was on the tripod, might as well get something.
When I walked into the house husband said something like ‘That didn’t take long.” and I explained the story, and he said he’d go back out with me in a little bit.
Lots of light looking behind me too.
So we did. I felt much happier sitting out on the pier knowing he was in the car just behind me. I got a few images…but there was lots more light out there than I anticipated in a Bortle 4, I think I was shooting over the next small town. I need to go further away.
Still it was fun trying to remember all the things I needed to do to get the stars. I struggled with my tripod a whole lot too. Good things to practice before the Milky Way is back up. I really want that shot that’s in my head
There were a LOT of planes that night.
Today I tried stacking a series of 10 images from that night. That’s supposed to take things that aren’t consistent between the images out and improve the noise level in the results. I think I need to figure something out, because this is what I got.
9 images of the airplane at 8 seconds each. Sigh. And another little one down near the horizon too.
Ah well, my classmates will help me with that…and meanwhile I had a midwinter adventure close to home and have another story to tell!
PS: I think you need to be looking at these images when you’re sitting in a dark room with no glare. 🙂
So what does a person do all day while waiting for true dark to arrive? Besides nap that is.
Working on the river.
Well, on the one day the skies were clear while I was in the UP I wandered the Manistique waterfront looking for other things to photograph while impatiently urging the sun to hurry up and sink.
If you zoom in you might be able to read about the lighthouse.
The mouth of the Manistique River was being dredged so I watched that for awhile. It was sort of interesting, but you can only watch so many piles of mud being moved before you have to move on.
Scoop after scoop of muck was dug up from the river bottom and poured into the barge.
I couldn’t resist walking out on the causeway leading to the shiny red lighthouse. It was such a pretty day.
A wide cement walkway made the trip out there easy to navigate.
I spent quite a bit of time out there waiting for the sun to go down. And watching the light glint off the water.
It’s not a long walk on a pretty day.
A couple of guys were fishing but they hid behind the lighthouse for me to get some shots.
All metal, it can withstand some nasty weather. But none was forecast while I was there.
But as the sun lowered I came back into shore.
The flowers glowed, loosestrife, an invasive, and goldenrod.
The evening light makes everything so pretty.
The last bit of light before the magic begins.
And then, slowly, slowly, the sun sank and the blue hour began.
Let’s take a walk down this boardwalk.
Earlier in the day I had scoped out a place to set up, hoping that the Milky Way would be near the lighthouse from my vantage point. The compass said it should be. But I knew I only had one night so I hoped I wasn’t wrong.
The beginning of blue hour on the beach.
I waited impatiently. It takes forever for the night to get truly dark. And then….a few stars decide to turn on their lights.
Here we go…
I still couldn’t tell exactly where the Milky Way was going to shine…but the stars made me smile anyway. And then….finally, finally, there it was. It was pretty darn amazing. I don’t know why the beach wasn’t full of people just staring.
Take a moment and just look.
I stayed out there a long time. A lot of it not shooting, just standing there, in the moment.
Because, really, how many shots can you take of the same lighthouse with the Milky Way? Well, as it turns out…several dozen. You see, the dark sky requires that you have a high ISO and a wide open aperture and that causes grainy shots.
Beautiful without the lighthouse too.
But you can stack them. Did you know that? There’s software that will lay your photos, one on top of the other, and match up your stars and eliminate anything different. And that clears up a lot of the grainy noise. Huh. So I was taking 7 shots of each shot, in preparation for stacking. But I learned, just this week, I should have taken 10 to 15 shots to stack.
Ah well.
Many of my images had these streaks. I never saw it when I was on the beach, but some people say this light in the sky is the Sky-Link satellites.Zoom in and see what you think.
So, anyway, these are single images, no stacking here, just a little editing to bring out the whites and sometimes to lift the shadows.
I still have so much to learn…so many technical things that I can do to make the images more clear, more beautiful. But the Milky Way season here in Michigan is almost over. There will be one more chance in October, just a few nights, and then I’ll have to be patient until 2023.
Just to show you, we are never alone, the sky is full of stuff flying around.
Yea right. I can hardly handle waiting for the sun to set in a single evening. How am I going to get through months of no Milky Way?
Change Is Hard 