Zion National Park is an oasis in the desert. It is a hot and green paradise carved and nourished by the Virgin River which has etched tirelessly through countless layers of rock and minerals to form its massive canyons. Whether you are enchanted by its beauty, blown over by its grandeur, enticed by its challenges, or drawn to its dark skies you will find its amazing landscape and history will quickly win you over.
A sunset ripples off sandstone and Douglas fir in Zion National Park.
Sandstone
The sandstone structures of Zion Canyon are always beautiful, but never more so than during sunrise and sunset. During the low-sun the burnt orange canyons light up like embers. One highlights of the trip was ascending Angle Rocks. We were fortunate to start at sunrise, and it was fascinating to watch the changing shadows and morphing colors created by the rising sun.
A look from the top of Angel Rocks, Zion National Park. The Virgin River lies below us.Massive shadows cast by the rising sun. It takes a long time for the sun to make it to the valley floor!Bryce Canyon really showed off the red colors! I made this image in the blue-hour of the day to get the rich saturation of colors shown here. A pre-sunrise look at the sandstone bluffs in Zion National Park.
Sunset colors richochet off sandstone bluffs and Douglas Fir.
Being outside the park was nearly as impressive on the inside. From this vantage point you can see inside Zion National park including the West Temple and other famous features.
History
While in Zion we visited history and made some history too! The ghost town of Grafton was a stark reminder of how difficult life was for settlers traveling west. Disease, conflicts with Native Americans, and stochastic events like floods and storms killed many. The interpretive sign in Grafton highlighted that two young girls were killed by a falling swing. There were a lot of ways to die in the west!
An old cabin in Grafton, Utah.
The Johnson Family converged and left a bit of its soul in the history of Zion. Our three families converged from Alaska, Minnesota, and Montana.
The whole Johnson Family together in the bluffs of Zion National Park taking in a sunset. My brothers family. Love this picture!
Wildflowers
Be wary when viewing wildflowers in Zion – most of them are armed! It was wonderful being in the Park at time when cacti were blooming. Each of the colors was the most vibrant forms of oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples. They were spectacular to see! Early June was an excellent time to see a lot of species of wildflowers. Each of the photos below shows them off in their context.
A Silver Chola cactus stands in front of bluffs lit by the sunset. Abundant pink blooms on a Prickly Pear Cactus.
A vibrant prickly pear stands sentinel near Angels Landing
A prickly Pear blooms under the Milky Way
A Yucca blooms under the stars of the Milky Way
Stars
The Stars in Zion National Park are : stunning, brilliant, dazzling. As an avid night photographer I was giddy to get out shooting! I was fortunate to have clear conditions and a new-moon to create inky darkness. An added benefit was the comfort of the night – far different than the 92 degree days! Night photography is a relaxing pass time. Long exposures of 20 seconds or more gave me ample time to appreciate the beauty of the star-lit landscape with my eyes and ears, not just through my viewfinder.
A passing car lights up the bluffs of Zion National Park. The car had just passed through the Zion-Mount Caramel Tunnel.Blue-hour and a welcoming seat in Bryce Canyon National Park. A lone tree stands sentinel under a brilliant Milky Way. You may recognize this location from the panorama above! The green in this image is from “air glow”, which is a different phenomena than the Aurora Borealis.
My brother, Mom, and I stand for portrait under the Milky Way.
Speed limit is only 25 on the Milky Highway, and watch-out for that hard right!
Wildlife
I do not think wildlife viewing and birding are primary reasons visitors go to Zion, however, there is ample opportunity for each. My wife and I are avid birders and we were thrilled to add well over a dozen species to our life list and observe dozens of more species. That was very exciting for us, but I won’t bore you non-birders with the details here :). However, one bird of note that you should care about is the California Condor. These magnificent and enormous raptors were once nearly extinct with a population of only 22 animals. Thanks to conservation efforts they have slowly made a comeback. A recent success story was the birth of a wild chick just this year! We were floored to see these raptors up close on two occasions!
A large Mule Deer gives me a close examination. Important to scratch yourself and keep an eye out, too!A passing Red-tailed hawk. I love the color morphs of these common raptors!There you have it! A rare California Condor flying right over our heads!
As with so many of the places we visit a single week doesn’t seem like enough time! This trip to Zion was a gateway drug to future visits. I look forward to learning more about desert wildlife, the history and lessons of Native Americans in the land, and to experience its beauty. I hope you have a chance to do the same!
This year was my second trip to Hawaii and my first time traveling to Kauai. Last year my wife and I birded the Big Island, walked on lava under the stars, and paid our tributes to Pearl Harbor. We were anxious to revisit these amazing islands to learn about and enjoy their diversity, ecology, and warmth! I was especially excited to extend on opportunities for photography and recently shared an article on endemic birds. There! Now you are caught up with the past, I will tell you more about the rest of my trip by taking you through some photos and experiences!
When I am shooting an image I like to ask myself “what is the purpose of this image? what story does it have to tell?”. I have included 19 images below as a cross section of thousands of images made and experiences had during the trip. They showcase the night sky, the birds, landscapes, and diversity of my experience. I hope you enjoy my anecdotes of enjoying Hawaii and gain appreciation of the time it took to make these images!
Landscapes
We arrived in Kona, HI at 9:30 PM and had to drive across the island to Hilo to our lodging. As we crossed the saddle at Mauna Kea (Hawaii’s tallest mountain) I told my wife, “we should go see if the stars are any good tonight!”. We ascended to 8,000 feet and with clear skies I was soon sucked into a time vacuum. I photographed until 4AM – my wife is a trooper! This star spin is looking South and shows off how little light pollution there. Coupling that with the thin air makes for incredible star-gazing! My time on Mauna Kea was the first time I have seen the Southern Cross!Waimea Canyon on Kauai is nicknamed the “Grand Canyon of Hawaii”. During our 5 days on the Island we visited this canyon 4 different times. Each time the light and setting had something new to offer. I loved how the sun rays streaked through the haze and clouds in this scene. Waipo’o Falls coming in from the side is just icing on the cake!I took the time to visit Waimea Canyon at night, too! I used the moonlight to capture Waipo’o falls and the clouds streaking overhead. I knew the moon’s light would really show off the red cliffs well! This star spin looks north over Mauna Kea. A lone car is cresting the hillside and really adds to the scene. I chose this location because of how desolate it feels! The volcanic fields are too high, cold, and lack nutrients to grow vegetation. I feel like this image could have been captured on Mars! The star spin is 2-hours long. At over 440 feet, Akaka Falls is a very large falls. I had to sneak in between bus-loads of tourists to make this shot, and focused on the lush vegetation to give it a paradise-like feel. I used neutral density filters so I could shoot a very long exposure and smooth out the flowing water. Mauna Kea is renowned for its Milky Way and Star-gazing opportunity. Thin air and almost no light pollution make it one of the best places to view the stars in the world! At 2:30 AM the Milky Way rose over the southwest horizon. Distant lights of Hilo and the foreground corpse of a Mamane tree make this one of my favorite Milky Way shots to date!
Birds
I thought it was peculiar that we found this Laysan Albatross nesting in urban conditions. I’m not sure why it choose to do that, but I have a hunch it’s because during their long lifespan of up to 40 years new developments were established on their traditional nesting areas. The Nene (Hawaiian Goose) is a conservation success story. Their numbers dwindled to only 30 birds in 1960 but now number over 3,000 on all the Hawaiian Islands! Throughout the trip I was looking for a “crushing” Nene shot to show off their beauty and unique markings. I was rewarded with this image while birding in Hanalei!At the Kilauea Lighthouse we enjoyed a high-abundance of seabirds such as Laysan Albatross, Red-tailed Tropic Birds, White-tailed Tropic Birds, Magnificent Frigate Birds, and Brown Boobies. The most prevalent were Red-footed Boobies. They flocked by the hundreds to the cliffs to roost with their mates. This male Red-footed Booby put in a lot of efforts to break this branch from a cyprus. It took him several minutes of antics and balancing to be successful. He may use it in his nest or just carry it around to impress females before dropping it. The first evening we visited Kilauea Lighthouse the setting sun lit up a waxing moon. I knew I wanted to capture the soaring Red-footed Boobies in front of it, but also knew it was going to be a challenge to get a clean shot! I set up my camera on the moon and chose a focus distance that most of the birds seemed to be flying at. I was rewarded with this image! Pueo (Hawaiian Short-eared Owl) were an amazing addition to our trip. I believe between the Big Island and Kauai we saw over 20 of them! I caught this bird soaring over the grasslands in search of food.
The Coast
Hawaii is renowned for its sunsets and with almost 11 days of sun during our trip we got to enjoy several great ones. On our second evening in Kauai, we whittled the end of the day away by watching from the beaches of Puiko. I found a calm pool where I could tie together corals with the setting sun. As the last of the sun disappeared behind the horizon it was saluted by three sail boat sentinels. I shot this image at 150 mm to capture the boats along with the sunset. Small waves mixed with the textures and colors of the volcanic rock of Kauai’s shore. I tried to stay “present” while shooting this scene by both enjoying the smells and sights of it while photographing it. I love the slow motion of the incoming surf. During this sunset at Kilauea Lighthouse a huge surf was crashing against the rocks. Although it was hard to tell how big the waves were, a 40-50 foot swell was forecasted for the area. I sought to capture the mood and drama of the scene by shooting a very long exposure to flatten out the sea. This image is 8 minutes long! I love the contrast between the lit lighthouse and the shadows of the cliff. We did some snorkeling in the lava “fingers” outside of Puako on the Big Island. In between the fingers the water was 50 feet or more and the volcanic walls were covered in amazing corals and life such as this Pencil Urchin. I cannot even begin to describe the color and diversity of the fish we saw!
Miscellaneous
This is noisiest invasive species in Hawaii! the Coqui Frog are very hard to spot and spend most of their time in water pools of Bromiliads and other plants. They were introduced in the 1990s, and in the current day have populations in the thousands per acre! In many areas, they are the predominant sound in the forest. The Mules Foot Fern looks to be from prehistoric times! These giant ferns look like a “regular” fern scaled up 10 or 20 times and may be 10 feet tall. Growing fiddle heads are 3-4 inches in diameter and these fronts are almost an inch wide each!
I cannot wait to visit Hawaii again! These images help tell a story that I look forward to growing in the future. If you do not do so currently, please sign up for my website updates, following me on Facebook or Instagram. Cheers!
Some days are destined to be better than others and due to the probability of the seasons it has a 25% chance of being a day in autumn. There is something magical to the season wrapped into the death, color, and distinct smells it manifests each year. Fall mornings immerse all of your senses: the bite on your nose of frost in the morning, musk of decaying leaves, the sound or crunching leaves, and brilliant colors of foliage make the season like none other.
The magic and of the day started as soon as my eyes opened. I stepped from my bedroom to watch a subtle and beautiful sunrise over Neka Mountain and Port Frederick. As I sipped my coffee and watched from the window the warm colors of low sunlight started from the peak of Neka Mountain and progressed to its base. I smiled and thought through the possibilities of the day. The plan for the day was simple : go fishing and bring a camera.
I enjoyed the sunrise over Port Frederick in Hoonah, Alaska while I sipped on a cup of coffee. You can see the autumn colors of the muskegs near the summit of the mountain
Down in the River
Eight miles out of town Spasski River held the promise of fish and bears. I strolled through a muskeg full of color. 4-leaved, 4-inch tall, Bunchberry Dogwoods had transformed into red fireworks with colors nearing a poinsettia and lingering frost framed the sharp edges of sedges and grass. I crossed out of the muskeg and descended the banks of the river passing giant sentinels of Hemlocks and Spruces. Once in the river the circular ripples in the surface of the water over my fishing hole gave hint to the presence of Cohos below. Peering in I counted fourty 40 or more fish and noted some of them had turned the dark red of the season.
After 15 minutes of fruitlessly flinging my pink fly into the school of Cohos a pair of bears showed up on the river bank. I watched as the sow and cub came closer and stepped into the open so they could see me. The cub trailed closely behind the mother and after a couple of my woops acknowledging I was there they passed into the tall grass of the river bank.
A sow and cub meanered up the bank of Spasski River. This encounter gave me insight into the cub’s behavior when I observed it later.
When brown fur came into view again I had the privilege of gaining some insight into bear behavior. The cub emerged alone in the tall grass and it was evident it was very nervous. It stood on its rear feet to sniff the air and then sprinted forward in the long grass while looking back over its shoulder as though being chased by shadows. The young bear stood three more times to look and smell for its mother, but she was not to be found. Mother bears have a reputation of being helicopter parents to protect their cubs from aggressive males trying to kill them. It was evident the cub appreciated the protection of the mother and was nervous to be out of her shadow. When I left the cub and sow had not been reunited, but I was sure the sow had not left the cub as isolated as it thought.
When I saw the cub next it was looking for mom. It stood up to sniff the air several times.
You can almost see the worry on the cub’s face. It was looking back and forth in the search for Mom.
With the bears on my brain I decided it was best to stop fishing. I needed to be alert and was not keen on carrying Cohos out knowing the bears may interested in them too. I turned my attention to the scene in front of me. Yellow Salmon Berries reflected off the surface of the river. My eye was led down the scene to the flat top of ear mountain presided over the river. It was a special place to be and I was there to enjoy it alone.
The colors of Salmon Berries were accented by the presiding presence of Ear Mountain above Spasski River
I framed up the tall spruces along the bank to bring your eye into this shot of autumn colors and mountain
The American Marten
Leaving the bears I encountered the next fiercest mammal of the forests of Chichagof Island : the American Marten. I found it in the compromising position of scavenging trash, and snuck closer whenever it dropped into the green garbage can in front of me. I was about 30 feet away when it spotted me and the necessity for me to move closer was negated by the curious creature. Before long it approached me to within 10 feet and was perhaps trying to decide if I was edible. I stood stock still and it curiously twisted its head back and forth to size me up and stared my camera each time it clicked. The Marten, not totally trusting the large bi-pedal in front of it, dashed into the grass several times as though testing to see if I would pursue. Each time it poked its head up from the grass by standing on its rear feet. Finally bored or perhaps hungry it left the grinning human for good.
A curious American Marten stares at me from just a few feet away.
After popping out the grass several times the marten approached closely from my right side and looked directly at the camera as it snapped and clicked.
Muskegs on Fire
Throughout the day I had stopped several times to stare at and admire the incredible reds and oranges of the muskegs. Red leaves of Wild Blueberry plants transformed the floor the muskeg into fire. The read were accented by the evergreen trees sprouting from the muskeg and by the crystal clear blue skies. However, in one place the red colors were especially vibrant, rivalling the reds of the Maple trees that I grew up with in the Midwest. The beauty of that place held me there for a long time as I photographed it and felt privileged to be there.
I was astonished by the intenstity of the red in the muskeg. Fiery reds were resplendent!
A parting shot. Adios to autumn colors!
The sun shines brighly over brilliant red Wild Blueberries
Transition in Suntaheen
From the fiery muskeg I descended to the quenching silence of the Suntaheen River valley. Along the river I found autumn to be in full progress. Red Alders sheltered the slow flowing river with amber leaves. The fallen leaves of those trees covered the rocky river bank like the yellow brick road. Beams of sunlight backlit trickled through the canopy and individually lit some of the fallen leaves. Groves of Devils Club along the river’s bank were turning a vibrant yellow and sunlight poked through their decaying leaves.
A Devil’s Club transitions from green to yellow.
Sunlight streams through the decaying leaf of a Devils’ Club.
Suntaheen river floats lazily by rocks and shores covered in the gold of fallen leaves.
A frost-kissed Oak Fern was stripped of its green cholorphyll, and sunslight streamed through its white skeleton.
In the river I was reminded by of the salmon that had choked its waters only a month before. Scattered ribs, spines, and salmon jaws lay where the carcass had been eaten by a bear or had simply died. The bones were devoid of flesh and provided evidence the fish’s energy had already been absorbed by its sourrounding environment. Its nitrogen and energy mingled with the decaying leaves of the trees above cycling to ultimately feed to tiny fish emerging from the eggs buried in the gravel. Some days are just better than others. On this beautiful day I felt blessed to watch nature, learn something new, enjoy the transition of seasons, and observe the cycle of seasons.
A Pink Salmon’s jaw and its jutting teeth perches along the river. The river bank was littered with dozens of these jawbones from months-old dead salmon.
A couple of times every year the moon and sun align – literally – to bring about very large tides. In June this year, a full moon delivered a -4.6 tide to Hoonah, Alaska and provided a glimpse of life under the sea. Rocky shorelines were converted into tide pools full of life trapped there by the receding waters. The first time I experienced one of these monster tides was in May 2016 right after moving to Hoonah. The joy I find in perusing the beaches and flipping rocks to see what is beneath has not diminished since that time. Thanks to Bob Armstrong’s guide, I am able to identify some of the creatures we found.
The Star Fish
Of all the animals in a tide pool, Sea Stars seem to provide the most variety to the color, textures, shapes, and sizes that have evolved in the ocean. In some places they cover every rock surface or bottoms of tide pools. They are the ever-present predator scouring for crustaceans, snails, and clams. We enjoyed looking at their colors and touching their rough (and sometimes slimy) skins.
Blood Star.
Mottled sea star
The close, rough texture of a Mottled sea star
Slime Star (species not known)
Mottle Sea Stars cover the bottom of a tide pool.
Wrinkled slime star
The Octopus
We found the crab shells before we found the octopus den. The tell-tale shells were only a foot or two away from a crevice containing 8 arms with quarter-sized suckers. Th octopus was so large that we could only see one arm, and wait as we might it never came out of the den. Fortunately a smaller octopus – about the size of a football- motored by us. They are intelligent and lithe creates known for their camouflage. It was amazing to watch the colors of the small octopus’s skin turn from a light pink to dark red as it moved from rock to rock and tried to blend in. It was the first time I had watched a wild octopus! The 12″ deep water provided a window into its life below.
A crab shell let us know that an octopus den was near.
An octopus swims by in the shallow waters of the low tide. It was a real treat to watch this animal hunt!
Crabs
Crabs are really remarkable creatures. They have adapted themselves to all areas (niches) of the inter-tidal zone in search of food. We must have found 8 or 10 different species, but some of them stood out for their uniqueness. Spines, claws, and camouflage make them fit for the niche they fill. The most bizarre was the Butterfly Crab – it is hard to imagine what its oblong shell would provide. Perhaps it camouflage?
A young king crab hangs out in the inter-tidal. Eventually this crab will descend to deeper water.
A butterfly crab was one of the most bizarre creatures I have every found! I cannot imagine why its shell needs to be shaped like that.
A Decorator Crab attaches pieces of seaweed to itself to provide almost perfect camouflage.
Bobbin’ Around Under Water
Below the inter-tidal we found this bright orange sponge. This sponge was accessible because of the low tide.
Broadbase tunicate
A day spent looking into tide pools is time well spent! Exploration allows you to discover new things, observe new behaviors, and breath in the sea air. I look forward to the next big tide!
A few nights ago I had a “breakwater” experience in my photography career. A tidal one. A heart-stopping, adrenaline pumping, oh-shoot-what-now, moment. I’ve had quite a time laughing at it now and feel I need get it down for the record so that 10 years from now I can’t stretch the story too much.
This story involves the stars and the tides. Pictured here. Perhaps if I had looked closer and could read the night’s fate in the stars I wouldn’t have gone out at all!
So here’s the scene. It’s is April 16th, 2018 and a new moon is leaving the sky void of light pollution. It was a slam-dunk, shockingly beautiful night with clear and luscious dark skies. For a night photography junkie like myself the opportunity was too good not to go out. I arrived at Long Island outside of Hoonah, Alaska at 10:00 PM. This area is situated right on the ocean and a saddle of coarse sand connects the mainland to a 200 foot diameter island. I began to shoot along that sand spit and was thrilled with the shots I was getting : smooth seas reflected the stars like opalescent pearls on the surface. The edge of the Milky Way rose to the north and was showing up brilliantly in my camera. It was simply a stunning night to be out . Satisfied with the individual shots I was getting I began to deploy three DSLR bodies on 6 foot tripods being conscious of the high tide line. I programmed two to take images at regular intervals in order to create Star Trails images and one I placed on a robotic head to capture a timelapse of the Milky Way. The robotic head was tethered to a battery which sat on the sand 5 feet below the camera. Smugly I thought to myself how good I was getting at this and decided that a few winks of sleep would be a great way to pass the time as the cameras did their thing. Sleep is a great way to lose track of time and reality.
The edge of the Milky Way Rising in Hoonah, Alaska.
You may already know sleeping in a car seat never provides the best sleep. I woke up at 11:30 and saw the green light on my camera flicker, noting that it was taking pictures and that everything was OK. I woke up at 12:00, 12:30 and then at 1AM. Again, everything looked great! The stars were speckled across the heavens, the ocean was calm, and no sea-fog had rolled in. I wedged myself into a comfier position and passed out stone cold until 2:30 AM. When I awoke was when the real fun started.
I guess I have to tell you a bit about the tides since not all are familiar with them. In Hoonah, our tides swing as much as 23 feet from low to high. Huge amounts of water move like a large river and quickly flood tidal areas over 6 hours and then recede.In the video below (a result of the night) you can watch the tides come in fast. Like all coastal areas there are two times of the month when then tides are greatest : full moon and new moon. I’ve already told you which moon I lay sleeping under.
At 2:30 AM I yawned, stretched, smacked my lips, yawned again, and then decided I should go check on my cameras. I opened the door and came face to face with my situation – salt water was rushing by my truck just below my floor boards like a river. Due to the new moon there was no regard by the ocean for the “normal” high tide line, it had gone past with the regard a lion gives a cob of corn. I tried to step from the truck and over-topped my 16″ tall rubber XTuff boots. Oh shit. I knew my first priority was to get my truck to high ground. Fortunately I had parked facing the right way and was soon there… but now about those cameras.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. When you have thousands of dollars of water-sensitive camera gear caught in the embrace of a rampant high tide it is desperate times indeed. My first few steps to Camera # 1 with the extra battery brought me over my boots and then over my thighs. I was shocked to see 6 foot tall tripod only sticking out of the water by 18inches. Rescuing the large battery from the bottom of the ocean required submerging my arm up to my armpit in the icy brine. And I knew I was just getting started as I rushed the camera to safety on shore.
On any other day I would erase this image, but since the stream tail lights of my truck captures the pandemonium of the moment its a shot with a story.
Camera # 2 was placed much further along the saddle that connected the island to shore. I was over my boots and over my thighs when, to my dread, the ice flows began to solidify in the 25 degree night. A skim of quarter inch ice had built up like tiny armor plating to rub against my stinging legs. Fortunately (I guess?) I had no choice to scrutinize my options and further in I went. By the time I reached Camera #2 I was over my belly button. As a man I can say that it was extraordinary uncomfortable to be that deep in those icy waters.
Camera #3 was placed on a flooded bolder field. Hindsight is 20/20, but my legs were so numb and becoming dysfunctional by the third camera that navigating my waterlogged boots over the volcanic rock was quite difficult. With a few stumbles I was able to retrieve the camera which was still taking images and toddle my way back to my vehicle.
All said and done the night was actually quite successful. Check out this beautiful star trails!
It is truly remarkable I didn’t lose any camera gear. The tides were a full 4 to 5 feet higher than I ever would have suspected. In river terms it had “topped” its bank. On that night I did a rare thing by raising all of my tripods to their highest height. It is much more typical for me to shoot with low tripods which would have flooded for certain. I’ll count my blessings and do a much better job of measuring the tides next time I go out!
Star Trails captured on my nearly disastrous night. In one I used my headlamp the light the treees on the shore.
When you arrive on the Big Island of Hawaii one thing is immediately obvious – lava is omnipresent and shapes the land in a big way. I know, you may be thinking to yourself, “Of course it does! It’s Hawaii”, but until you drive through miles on miles of black, barren, lava fields for the first time it is hard to imagine how dominant the lava is over the Big Island. Once you get past the incredible scale of lava fields and begin to zoom in on the lava formations themselves, it is even more difficult to determine how the intricate loops, curls, folds, chasms, and bubbles form in the fields. Bubbles within bubbles, curls over swells, loops and swoops, nothing it seems is impossible for lava. I was grateful to visit the lava leads of Volcanoes National Park which put some of questions to bed.
Curtains of hardened lava lie below open leads further up the hillside. How did the lava form all of these unique shapes and formations?
Hiking the Lava Fields
There is no official trail to the lava leads (open flows of lava), so you are “bush whacking” (an ill fitting term considering there are few bushes in the newly scorched earth) across the lava fields. When I took my first step onto the blackened earth it gave a satisfying crunch – like several thousand tiny glass panes had broken simultaneously. This isn’t far from the truth as I learned that the surface of the lava cools in a glass-like structure. With each crunching step we plodded closer to our goal – smoke rising from a hillside. About two miles in we caught sight of a bright orange flash on the hillside. Even in the daylight it was so bright that it seemed a person in a blaze-orange jacket was propped in the rocks. It was my first look at lava, and I couldn’t wait to get closer! 30 minutes later we were standing only 20 feet away from the open leads of lava to observe their beauty and feel their heat first hand. Check out the video below for a taste of the hike in and the beauty of lava.
On the Nature of Lava and Its Formations
Standing and watching the lava leads swell, break their crust, cool, and repeat helped answer a lot of the questions I had. For instance –
How fast does lava flow? The answer all depends on the slope of the hill. Further up from us the lava flowed like a small river – much faster than a person could run. Near us, in the toe of the slope it ran much slower.
The lava fields were incomprehensibly large, so how fast do they form? Much, much quicker than I expected. Open lava leads could form meters of new, scorched ground in just a few minutes. It became evident how quickly the lava leads could create new land or in many cases in Hawaii, new islands.
How does the lava form the different shapes? There are so many complexities to this. I believe it has to do with the temperature of the lava (1300 – 2200 F), the crack it was bursting through, the wind, the air temp, the slope, the rate of flow, and so much more. I did get to watch as the lava formed bubbled as well as more unique shapes such loops and curls like overlapping layers of chocolate from a fountain.
An open lava lead flows just a few feet away from me.
Lava leads would quickly form and cool creating the black, barren landscape of the lava fields.
An open lava lead flows at night.
Darkness Falls Over the Lava Field
Our plan was to stay late into the night and photograph the Milky Way over the lava leads. The night was warm, but even if it had not been it is easy to stay warm in a lava field – if you pick the right rock it is like laying on warm concrete thanks to the percolating lava below. We curled up for naps on our geologically heated sleeping spots and then enjoyed the brilliance of the open lava in the dark night. At 10PM the clouds rolled in thick and light rain started. The rain in particular can create hazardous conditions when it comes in contact with open lava by generating nauseous gas, so we decided to call it a night and made the trek home. Overall the experience was my fondest of in Hawaii and is in the 10 of all-time life experiences!
Open lava leads shine bright under the stars.
Open lava leads shine bright under the stars.
A hillside dotted with open lava leads glowed brightly once the sun set.
Planning a Trip?
The lava conditions in Volcanoes National Park change constantly, and you will want to check on current conditions on the National Park Service website before heading out. Our hike to the open leads of lava ended up being 10 miles round trip, but if you are fortunate the lava will be much closer to the road if you go for a trip. Bring good shoes, lots of water, food, and a camera!
Every color has a pure form that boggles the mind and goes beyond the eyes ability to see and it and the brain’s ability to interpret it. I’m talking about hues of color that make your neurons tingle as they try to absorb its hues. You may think of the dark red of a fine ruby or the electric-green of a buggy-eyed tree frog in a rain forest. These pure colors attract us like flies to honey and are a primary reason that thousands of visitors take the risk of stepping into the Mendenhall Glacier to see its sculpted walls of cerulean blue ice. The ice of the cave walls and ceiling is shaped into waves by the wind and water. Immense pressure from hundreds of feet of ice above compress the ice into perfect clarity giving a view to the conditions within.Glaciers carry the earth in their walls and as they melt create new land. As I stepped into Mendenhall Glacier, the world trapped within was immediately evident. Far into the ice, large boulders and sheets of sediment could be seen within. The rocks were distorted by the curves of the ice face. At the base of the cave’s walls, ice flowed over rocks that were half in and half out of their century-old entrapment. The whole floor of the glacier was made from the boulders that melted from glacier. These boulders, it seems, are released at a rapid rate, as the glacier was much different than my last visit in 2015.
Change at Mendenhall Glacier
Mendenhall Glacier is receding up to 150 feet per year. The rapid rate of change was in full display. I was astounded to see former site of the ice caves that I visited in 2015 was ice free. In its place, was a valley of rocks and a frozen river. Rock walls extended up to the ice face high above us. Although I cannot be sure how far the ice receded, it may have receded as much as 300 feet. This is not the first time I have seen such change in an Alaskan glacier – I was reminded of the demise of the ices caves of Castner Glacier over the course of a couple years. Glacial change can happen at a rapid pace! The images below capture the glacier as it is now – I look forward to documenting its inevitable change in the future.
The mountains rise above Mendenhall Glacier.
The expansive Mendenhall Glacier covers Mendenhall Lake.
A fissure in the glacier reveals a brilliant blue.
Waves of ice carved into the ceiling and walls of Mendenhall Glacier.
A ridge of ice shaped by wind and rain.
A large boulder released from the ice and lit the mouth of the cave.
A large boulder released from the ice and lit the mouth of the cave.
Sediment trapped in the ice and warped by its curves.
A rock escapes the ice in the ceiling of the ice caves.
A close-up of the icy curves in Mendenhall Glacier.
A tunnel of ice leading to another chamber of the ice cave.
Can you find the person in this image??! The ice of Mendenhall glacier dwarfs them in the lower left corner.
Shadows of the sunrise flow over Mendenhall Glacier’s face.
The fresh morning air and sea breeze were refreshing to my senses. As I walked along the beach of Hoonah, Alaska the smell of the spray made my taste-buds tingle and buzz; the ocean air is tantalizingly tasty. The smell of the ocean was particularly strong on this morning because as the tide poured out of Port Frederick it was leaving shallow kelp forests high and dry on the rocky beach. Newly exposed vegetation was increasing the olfactory pleasure. Stranded kelp on the beach is not a daily occurrence, but the large size of this tide exposed a world in the kelp forests that would normally only be accessible by diving into the frigid water. From high tide to low this tide would raise and lower the waters in Port Frederick by over 22 feet!
Sunflower Seastars
I was amazed by the abundance and diversity of sea creatures that I had never seen up close before. The first was an enormous, fire-red and purple sunflower sea star. Stretching about 30 inches across, it is actually a top predator of the sea floor. It was evident to see how fast they are as it slid across the rocks by using its long and plentiful tentacles to propel itself. On the bottom they prey on nearly anything that they can get like abalone, starfish, cucumbers and others. The vibrancy of their colors was really amazing. Some were purple and red, some just purple, and some just red. I am not sure if these are different species or not. The video below shows off a bit of the sunflower seastar and the next creature to be found, the Sea Cucumber.
A red and purple sunflower seastar trapped on the tideline in Hoonah, Alaska.
I’m not sure if this red coloration is a new species or just a different color phase. maybe male or female?
The many tentacles of the sunflower seastar are used for propulsion and feeding.
The many tentacles of the sunflower seastar are used for propulsion and feeding.
This sunflower seastar reaches about 30 inches from tip to tip.
Sea Cucumbers
There are many examples of bizarre creatures in a kelp forest, but the sea cumber is certainly a good example! These creatures, although ugly and dangerous looking, are actually detritivores. They feed on the bottom sucking up soil and convert them into nutrients that are used further up the marine food web. They were too interesting looking to not at least poke one with a finger. When I did I was very surprised to find that they did not have a hard shell, but instead were gelatinous and rippled like a water-balloon dropped on the pavement. As I looked around I found many of the sea cucumbers had molded into the cracks of the rocks at the tideline – once they are out of the water there is not enough support in their body to maintain its shape. In Alaska, this species, the giant red sea cucumber (Parastichopus californicus), are commerically harvested. They are marketed locally and in Asia.
A Sea-cucumber on the tideline in Hoonah, Alaska
The sea cucumber also uses tentacles to move around.
In a still bay I was able to see the sea cucumbers in their natural environment and with their signature “cucumber” spikes.
In a still bay I was able to see the sea cucumbers in their natural environment and with their signature “cucumber” spikes.
The Humpback Whale
As summer warms up the waters of Port Frederick, large blooms of phytoplankton feed the base of a food chain that ultimately brings many whales into the sound. As I stood on the edge of the kelp forest at low tide deep water stretched out in front of me. A humpback whale surfaced a mile out, and then a half mile out. It seemed to be headed my way. I grabbed my camera with my 200-500 telephoto lens waiting for it to get closer and surface again. I saw shocked to see the water boil in front of me much, much closer than I could have ever imagined. With a WOOSH! the spout of a fully grown humpback broke the surface in front of me just 20 yards away! With my adrenaline rushing through my veins I captured what I could of the huge animal. It is amazing to consider that even if the water was 50 feet in that location that he could have spanned it from the bottom to the surface!
This humpback whale surfaced about 20 yards offshore from the deep. With my long telephoto lens on this was the only image I could muster!
This humpback whale surfaced about 20 yards offshore from the deep. With my long telephoto lens on this was the only image I could muster!
My morning along the edge of Port Frederick was wonderful because it was everything I saw was new and foreign. It is truly magnificent to consider what is out there to just be experienced. The information I learned on my stroll through the kelp forest gave me an even further appreciation of this beautiful region of Southeast, Alaska.
A bold, red starfish is trapped along the waterline in Hoonah, Alaska.
In the low tide, anemones hang from dock pilings like old bubble gum on a wall.
In the low tide, anemones hang from dock pilings like old bubble gum on a wall.
A flock of Barrow’s Goldeneye fed along the surf as I strolled along the tide. I’m sure they were taking advantage of the easily-accessed resources.
Although I jigged up this sculpin from the bottom, they are a key piece of a kelp forest.
I have a story to tell about the kind of thing that only happens once in a lifetime. Last night I arrived home at 1AM from an amazing night of aurora watching with my parents – their first in Alaska! The forecast, a level 2, tripled to a KP 6 with an unexpected shock passage of energy. Throughout the night the Lights waxed and waned until the entire sky was covered from the southern constellation Orion’s Belt through the north star and to the northern horizon. Throughout the sky the Aurora Borealis shifted and rippled in green curtains of light. Outside of my car at my house, a dancing corona erupted over my head so I quickly snagged my camera and sprinted for the ski trails behind my house to begin shooting. It was as I stepped into the woods that the remarkable part of this story began to unfold.
A successful night of aurora chasing!
A beautiful display of northern lights shines through the black spruces of the boreal forest.
A towering display of northern lights builds to the north.
The aurora pulses through the sky.
Vertical banding through the aurora here is usually a good sign of things to come!
The aurora stretches out far above my head.
The big dipper stands out strongly within the Northern Lights.
The big dipper hangs high the sky and sets the position of the aurora.
I can’t help but think that this aurora images looks like a marijuana leaf!
Fingers of the aurora stretch out o in all directions.
Multiple colors of aurora dance across the sky in Alaska.
Small bolts of light form below the aurora borealis.
I was making no attempt to conceal the heavy pound of my foot steps, and my first few steps into the woods were loud enough to wake a grouse which was sleeping along the trail. It started from its slumber, and with rapid flaps, thundered its wings just a few feet from me. I jumped high at the sound in a blind moment of panic thinking for a second it was a moose. As I gained my composure I noted where it landed in a spruce tree only about 15 feet from me. I turned my headlamp in that direction, and the beady, black eye of an immature Ruffed-grouse glinted at me. The opportunity to shoot wildlife underneath the aurora has always been a desire of mine and I was keen to take advantage of it here! I set up my camera and began to shoot, hoping to capture the scene. My shutter clicked twice and the grouse stayed in place, although I’m surprised the sound of my pounding heart boosted by adrenaline in my ears did not spook it. My shutter clicked a few more times and I boldly moved towards the grouse. With each crunch of snow underfoot, I moved closer, and closer, and closer. The grouse, either too scared to move or over-confident in his camouflage did not move a muscle and soon my camera sat only 18 inches from the nervous bird. Overhead the aurora was still brilliant and as my shutter clicked I pulled off an image that may truly be the first in the world – a wild Ruffed Grouse perched under the shimmering emerald of the Alaskan Aurora Borealis.
The immature Ruffed-Grouse that I stirred up eyes me from the shadow of a spruce tree.
A Ruffed Grouses sits extremely close to my camera – a 12mm lens gives the shot an incredible angle!
It is amazing that the grouse did not fly away. I think it was a combination of the pure confusion of the moment, the shine of my light, and the benefit of the darkness. Perhaps he had convinced himself that even though I was so close, I had not noticed his presence. However, eventually he decided that enough was enough. He could watch the aurora without such nosy neighbors and took off into the night leaving me to revel in the unbelievable encounter.
The Ruffed Grouse gives me one more glance before taking off into the night.
The feedback on An Early Christmas Part 1 has been really great, thanks! I wanted to share with you how I have embellished on that first concept of shooting Christmas ornaments under the Northern Lights and also get a bit poetic about the aurora. The aurora this week has been remarkable thanks to a coronal hole from the sun allowing high speed solar winds to reach earth.
I walked out on the ski trails behind my house because the broad and brilliant band of aurora overhead indicated to my aurora-sense it was going to be an early showing. I meandered through snow covered trees maintained in their icy encasement by complete lack of wind for nearly two months. The trail was firm, but as I stepped off my body sunk into thigh deep snow which even though it had fallen 6 weeks ago, was still perfect, soft powder thanks to consistently cold temps. In fact, on this night my breath steamed away at -15F, and a few days earlier I woke up to -23. My anticipation grew as the aurora continued to build in strength and at 10:30 PM an auroral bomb exploded in the sky. The metaphor of a bomb is perfect because it was so sudden that I was caught off guard, and was forced to shoot my camera where I stood in an effort to capture adequately the green and pink shrapnel which rippled and writhed in the sky. The explosion caught me in a towering cathedral of spruces which in the images all point to the source of the disturbance. In five minutes the waves of light ended, but it was only the beginning of series of barrages that kept me awake and in awe until 3AM.
“The Lady Slipper” – In a towering cathedral of spruces that point to a brilliant display of aurora.
“Aurora around the bend” – The ski trail I was on rounds the bend, and makes me wonder what views would have awaited if I were not rooted to the spot.
I have been building on the initial ornament concept in a few ways. Although it is difficult to hide a camera in front of a mirror, I am placing it in ways that is not obtrusive. From its hiding place I have shot a full 90 minute star-lapse in the bulb! That image, featured below, is the only one not taken on the night I described. I have also shot a full time lapse in the ornaments which turned out quite wonderful! I hope you enjoy the festive twist on the aurora 🙂
This concept shot builds on the original in An Early Christmas by shooting a 90 minute star-lapse!