Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


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When a 3 night reservation turns into two…continued

Let’s see. When I left you last my sister and I had driven a few hours north, scoped out a potential night sky photography site at a lighthouse, and set up our campsite at Harrisville State Park.

The view from our campsite.

The purpose of this three night camping adventure was to capture the Milky Way in darker skies than those around my house. I’d made the three night reservation six months ago in order to get a prime Lake Huron shoreline site.

I was sure that at least one night would have clear skies.

A view of the lighthouse from about where we planed to stand later that night.

Based on weather forecasts it looked like Monday night/Tuesday morning was my only chance. So we set our phone alarms to get us up at 2:00 a.m. and in the early morning darkness we drove the few miles to the lighthouse.

We quickly found the “X” we had drawn in the sand earlier in the day and began to set up shop. But while I was lengthening the tripod legs I noticed a light way out on the horizon, shining just above the bench I intended to use as a foreground. The light bothered me because it was so bright.

See that light in the middle of the horizon? It was a lot brighter than it looks here. The orange is light pollution.

I took a couple shots but didn’t like what I was seeing.

Too much light from towns to the south.

I decided to shorten the tripod legs in an attempt to hide the light behind the dune. I sent my sister over to the bench so I could try to focus on it, intending for it to be in the foreground which would be stitched together with another image with the focus being the stars.

She’s walking back using the red light. You can still see some of that bright light on the horizon to the right of her.

That didn’t work, I couldn’t focus on her at all, so I gave up that theory. Plus we were too far away from the bench and if I moved closer there would be that darn light out there on the horizon.

I decided to just try for a single image, nothing I had to stitch together later, just practicing getting the stars in focus. That worked and I took several of the same image so I’d have some spares to practice stacking when I got back home.

You can see the bench, but it’s really small and there’s too much light pollution.

But all the time I was focused on the Milky Way I’d been distracted by the lighthouse to my right. The grounds had a single large light on the other side of the building which was lighting up the side of the tower. I thought it was beautiful and wanted to get a shot of that even if it wasn’t a Milky Way image.

I started to move the camera around while not realizing the shutter was still open.

So once I was done with the multitude of stackable images of the Milky Way, and feeling disappointed in the images I had so far, I turned the camera toward the lighthouse. And the first test image I took I realized included a small part of the Milky Way!

How exciting, it was possible to get the Milky Way and the lighthouse in the same image! Quickly I shifted the camera to the right. And this is what I saw:

Nikon Z6ii, 20 mm, iso 3200, 12 seconds.

The yard light they had perfectly lit the tower without being obscene. I had enough time in between flashes of light to get the image because there was so much other light around. And by moving to the right I had eliminated most of the ugly orange light pollution that blasted out over the lake.

I was thrilled.

The rest of the night I worked on getting the best composition, and then taking multiple shots to stack later. I think I was also trying to get one image with the lighthouse in focus that I could use as a foreground to be blended with my best sky shot.

To be honest I don’t know if I did that. I haven’t looked closely at all the images yet. I fell in love with the single image I’m showing you now and sort of stopped looking after that.

It’s such a great reminder of the entire adventure.

If I don’t end up doing anything more with these I’ll still be happy. I need to read the study guides in my online class to learn how to do blends where part of the image is from one shot with the foreground in focus and the rest of the image is from a sky shot with the stars in focus. It can’t be that hard. Right?

Right???!

So what did we do the rest of our three nights at Harrisville? Well…this has gotten too long already so once again you’ll have to wait and see. But I don’t think anything we did the rest of our time there will top that first night.

Hint: There were no more clear skies, day OR night!

When I’m out shooting the stars I don’t feel the cold. My sister, who was patiently waiting for me was marching up and down the beach trying to thaw her toes. I didn’t notice the cold until we got back to the car, and then I realized I was cold to the core.

We got back to camp about 5 a.m. and headed to our tents to get one hour of sleep before the 6 a.m. sunrise which we wanted to photograph. But we were both so cold all we did was shiver in our tents, even with our electric blankets, as we waited for the sun to come up.

The first hint of sunrise.

And after we got a couple shots with the sun rising we scurried to McDonalds to get a hot cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich. It took a couple hours before we were ready to head back to our tents for a nap.

It was pretty but we were too cold to appreciate it.

Warm was good.

So Monday night/Tuesday morning was the highlight of our camping adventure. Would it be worth it to stick around Harrisville for the rest of our reservation? Hard to say. When I get some more time I’ll show you around town.

But it won’t be under the stars.


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When a three night reservation turns into two.

Six months ago I reserved a campsite on the shores of Lake Huron during a new moon cycle, intent on doing some Milky Way photography. Many years ago Katie and I camped at this state park and I remembered a lighthouse located just a few miles north that might work for night photography.

This is the Sturgeon Point Lighthouse.

My sister drove all the way up from Alabama just to go with me on this photography adventure. Last Monday we set out early in the day so that we had time to scout out the lighthouse location for potential night shots.

My sister noticed this split in color on the lake.

You see, the weather didn’t look promising beyond Monday night. That’s what happens when you have to book something months out. Weather is always the unknown element. We expected a clear night Monday, but rain and cold Tuesday and Wednesday.

We discussed going back home Tuesday if it was miserable.

Monday was a beautiful day.

And we knew we’d only have one night to get the Milky Way. So we needed to be ready.

The lighthouse was just as I remembered it, standing tall on the shores of the Great Lake. We wandered the beach looking for something interesting to put in the foreground.

The bench might look fun under the Milky Way.

Eventually we decided we needed to be quite a bit behind the lighthouse in order to be shooting Southeast where the Milky Way would be. We found a place that might work, tucked low behind a small dune, and made a big X in the sand so we could find the spot in the darkness of 2 a.m., our planned shoot time.

Probably not this angle though.

Then we explored other places on the site, including Baily School which wasn’t open, but we got an interesting shot through the window anyway.

A school room from back in the day.

We wandered down the beach to the south, thinking maybe the rocks out in the water might be interesting. Even if we didn’t end up shooting there at night, they made a nice, minimal, image in the sunshine we were enjoying.

Maybe we could light paint this rock.

Eventually it was time to go check into the campground. If all three days were as nice as Monday we’d have a wonderful time. If only.

Our campsite, right on the shore, was small, but we managed to make it work.

Maybe the weather forecasts were wrong.

We did note that of the handful of people camping along the shore we were the only ones in tents. Perhaps we were a touch too early in the camping season.

The view from our camp site looked promising.

Not to worry, we each had electric blankets and we were confident that we’d be fine. This was not our first spring camping experience.

Our beach. Though it was too cold to swim.

So…you might ask…what happened on Monday night? Did we leave our nice warm, snuggly beds to drive up to the lighthouse at 2 in the morning? Or did the waves lapping on the shore lull us back to sleep after our alarms rang?

Stop! Don’t drive into the lake!

I guess you’ll have to wait and see.


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Night adventure

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.


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Maybe a last night under the stars

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.

There’s so much more to learn.

This is what it all looks like in daylight.


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Under an umbrella of stars

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.

Imperfect perfection.


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Let there be light!

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.


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Like a big pizza pie

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.


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Pretty special day

Saturday began with this, early in the morning while walking Penny in the backyard.

Then we were gifted an evening listening to the Detroit Symphony Orchestra.

The concert was pretty spectacular, as is Orchestra Hall.

And when we got home, around 11:30 that night, the moon was full and glowing orange from the smoke of distant forest fires.

I had a hard time focusing the camera, both on the bluebird and on the moon.

But it was still a pretty special day.