Tag Archives: Essay

Into the Alaskan Night

This winter, and the winter before that, and the winter before that, I spent more time outside in the darkness than I did in the sun. It is the nature of living in a land where the Lights in the darkness outshine in beauty the pleasure of the sun’s flare.  I have found tremendous joy, solace, quiet, and refuge in watching the Aurora Borealis sway and bend across the northern sky, and documenting the Northern Lights has been an endeavor that has kept me up hundreds of hours. Locked away in terabytes of pixels are the proof of my labors. The images that I hold will be a legacy to pass on to my children and perhaps to my grandchildren. It is possible the pictures I have taken will even document change in the Arctic as our climate warms and the landscape transitions to something else.

I have learned more than I can measure about the natural world in Fairbanks because the Arctic is a deceptively complex place, and it is rapidly changing. There are many examples of its uniqueness. Its ecosystem has evolved to support wildlife at extreme temperatures from -60F to 80F. A highlight of its incredible diversity and unique importance are the hundreds of species of birds that return there each year from several continents to breed. Without the Arctic as a breeding ground, populations of waterfowl would be vastly diminished. To create the right conditions to support life for a short summer, the input energy into the system has to be massive, and the never-setting Midnight is the catalyst that fuels the prolifery. From its heat and light rise the microbes,plants, insects, and small mammals which fuel an entire ecosystem that provides resources for those animals and humans that live in it, as well as humans who profit from its export to other regions of the world. The Arctic has become a land which I look forward to returning to, as there is still so much to learn about and see!

At the end of every  night comes the dawn. A chance for the world to be seen in a different light, from a new perspective. I have been incredibly blessed with the opportunity to experience the wonders of Interior Alaska, but along with the moving world, I will be shifting my life to Hoonah, Alaska. In Southeast Alaska along the coast, I look forward to plying the sea for salmon and watching its waters for whales, otters in seals. With endless photographic opportunity in the region, I am thrilled to show you and write about the resource rich world of Southeast!

This season’s Aurora Borealis Time-Lapse, “Into the Alaskan Night”, comes not at the end of the Aurora Season but at the end of my time in Fairbanks. In a way, its production is a piece of closure of my life in the interior as I move to Hoonah, Alaska, where I look forward to wandering into the night.

Music of the Aurora

In Barry Lopez’s book Arctic Dreams, he spends a short amount of time reminiscing on the first time he saw the aurora borealis and how it can be difficult to put into words its colors, movement, and beauty. I was relieved to read that I was not the only person having that issue! I often struggle putting into words a description of the aurora that will cause those who have seen it to glaze over as they dream about it, and those who have not seen it to yearn for a huge night of northern lights. While writing this entry I reviewed the first time that I ever tried to explain the aurora. Reading “Poeticism, superlatives, and lists of glamorous, stunning, beautiful adjectives will abound in this post, for this was no mere night and cannot be described with just plain words. If this grammatical superfulism is not your style,  I would not blame you for skipping straight to the images on this one.” from that post almost three years ago makes me smile! I am not convinced chaining longs lists of adjectives together aptly describes aurora. It is as emotional as it is visual and is something best experienced for yourself.

Muted Aurora
Muted tones during a period of aurora pianissimo.

Thinking about the writing I have done in past describing the aurora, I was struck by my usage of musical terms to describe the aurora. In fact, the feelings music terms invoke bring both emotional and descriptive meaning to the adjectives I use to describe the aurora.  Reading back on an entry from September 2015 I found this, “As evening progressed the auroral symphony started to tune its strings. Beginning to the north it solidified and moved into a broad crescendo of dancing lights, and then falling to pianissimo, the lights went out. But then from the orchestral pit,Double Forte!“.   I love the vision it invokes in my head. A crowd of expectant viewers hush their voices and the lights are dimmed, a few plucks are heard in the pit of the orchestra, the conductor raises his hands, and the show begins!

Aurora Star Trails Purple
A long star trails shows of the changes of the aurora borealis over a couple of hours.

The idea of translating the aurora into music prompted me to work through formally composing and recording my first ever song on the guitar.  I began the song the way the aurora often begins. A steady, solid pulse of light that builds one beat at a time. The song is timid, unsure if the aurora will come to fruition, but then a light harmonic symbolizes change. The tempo of the song forces the aurora higher into the sky as it builds in speed and intensity. Shifting across the sky, short bursts of light are like a staccato.  They punctuate the underscore that has now turned into a fast steady rhythm. Rapidly the aurora rolls across the sky changing the visual dynamics. A region of forte that held your gaze diminishes to pianissimo allowing you to refocus to a new part of the sky. In the orchestra, the conductor is no waving stage left at the delicate sounds of violins but instead at the soft lyrical voices of the flutes. The change gives you goose bumps as it seamlessly transitions to a new rhythm and sound. The swell of color and light has finally ceased and the the steady pulse of light returns before finally fading out. The lights of the auditorium fade out, and the applause of the crowd erupts as they lavish in what they heard and saw.

Aurora Star Trails Collosus
“Collosus” A composition of change in the aurora over a 1.5 hour period. This composition shows off a variety of color changes and intensities.

As this posts winds down and concludes, I would be interested to know if the use of music and musical terms helps describe the aurora for you. In the video below, I tied together time lapes from this season in the Fairbanks region. The guitar track was composed and performed by me. I hope you enjoy!

Northern Accents

It was negative 5 degrees Fahrenheit in Fairbanks, Alaska as I stepped outside to engage in my photographic addiction : capturing the northern lights. I set off into the night, stomped a trail through knee-deep snow, and tripped on a hidden tree. The trip loosened up a signature item of the black spruce bog that I was walking in; a four foot Black Spruce tree encased in snow. Around me arranged in clumps and with varying snow loads were hundreds of Black Spruces. Each layer of snow deposited through the winter hung heavily on each tree.  Some of them sustained the burden of winter and maintained their dignity by standing upright, however, many bowed over in graceful arcs waiting for the warmth of spring to set them free. The beautiful landscape I stood in was classic to the interior of Alaska in the boreal forest. On this night I was in luck, the aurora started up and with my camera and mind racing I began to take pictures that fused together two iconic elements of interior Alaska.

I began photographing the aurora borealis three years ago and since then have continued to morph my skills and technique. It is actually pretty amazing to consider the transition that my photography has gone through as I began to realize that although the northern lights are stunning they are only an accent to unique landscape. I began to focus less on tack-sharp stars and large vistas and more on the foreground elements. I no longer only seek tall “domes” (i.e., mountains, hills) to stake out my my tripod. Instead I often look for integral pieces of the landscape that epitomize it and place them close and directly in front of my camera. In order to capture landscapes like these I change my techniques. My camera and tripod are almost always at ‘snow level’ to take advantage of unique angles, and I set up only a few feet from the object in front of me. A bulbous, snow-covered black spruce only two feet away becomes the tack-sharp focus that the eye is pulled to. The dreamy and soft aurora and stars  provide the lighting that help pull out the essence of the landscape. They are punctuation to the beauty which lies all around.

In the age of digital photography that makes capturing the northern lights “easy”, I offer this article as a challenge to photographers to think outside of the box when shooting the aurora. You may find that it provides inspiration to your work and a beautiful twist to an astounding phenomenon.

Northern Archway
I chose this archway of spruces to photograph the aurora in. I was intent on capturing the aurora in a way that complimented their shape.
Window to the Northern Lights
I got closer to the archway and was thrilled by the aurora that dance in this natural window.
Northern Lights
Bulbous, snow-covered spruces and a framework and a dead spruce are set by the aurora borealis.
Aurora Borealis
A window to the aurora beyond.
Northern Lights
A broad vista of red and green aurora in Fairbanks.
Northern Lights Archway
Northern lights in an archway of black spruces.

Northern lights archway Aurora Borealis Panorama Alaska, Aurora Borealis Spruce, Northern Lights, Black Spruce Aurora Borealis Alaska Fairbanks Winter Snow Northern Lights Black Spruce Alaska Aurora Borealis and black spruces Northern Lights, Black Spruces, Bog

 

A Superior Coast of Stone and Ice

I do not know why the stark beauty of the Lake Superior coast surprised me so much; before, I had lived on its shores four years. In front of me, the grey sky mirrored the pale ice of the shoreline, and as I walked to the edge of Gitchigumi’s  ice encased coast at Gooseberry State Park I was captivated. Short waves in the small cove which curled out in front of me lapped at the shoreline and imperceptibly built up icicles that hung from ice ledges. The icicles were shaped like alligator teeth and seemed to dangle from the frozen mouth of a gigantic beast. Every rock was encased in a sheet of ice built  up one splash of water at a time. A careful cross-section of ice from on top of the rock would reveal that stone was at the core of an arctic onion.

The ice was inspiring to look at from a macro and micro scale. By getting close and touching my nose to the ice, I observed some the miniscule details contributing to the grand-scale beauty.  On the rocks, a result of the layers of water was gray-and-white banded textures mimicking the agates Lake Superior is so famous for. They were polished to perfection.  Colorful yellow lichens, tufted grasses, and rich green mosses were preserved on the rocks behind clear windows of curved ice. The magnifying effect of the curve threw pieces of the lichen out of proportion, and the the splashes of bright color they provided were in stark contrast to the granite. As I pressed my face close and looked,  it was impossible to guess how some of the textures had formed. In some instances, it seemed that some of the small pebbles trapped in the ice had received just enough sun to melt and separate themselves. The small void they left above their surface was filled with alternating grains and patterns. Reflecting on it now, everything looks a bit different when you observe the essence of a landscape.

One of the greatest joys of the afternoon was when the sun dissolved through the flat gray skies as a radiant sunset. The grey ice ledges and icicles no longer blended into the background colors of the horizon but instead reflected and bounced the many colors of the  sky. The Lake Superior coast was transformed. Translucent icicles absorbed and emitted the sunset’s light. Rays of sun illuminated the rock islands encased in ice.  Blue skies and orange clouds floated overhead and were pushed by the wind. Throughout it all I counted my blessings and documented its beauty. As the sun finally set I returned to my car feeling like I had been at just the right place, at just the right time.

Sunset on the Iice
The sunset bounces off the curved icy bubbles on the shoreline.
Sunset Emitted
These small icicles absorb and seem to emit the colors of the sunset behind them.
Flat Waters?
You may have noticed throughout the post that the water of Lake Superior was flat. That is due to a the long exposures that I used to emphasize the beauty of the ice. This image does not use a long exposure and shows a small wave breaking over the rocks.

 

The First Taste of Spring

Like a chick pecking its way out of a shell, one by one the patches of snow fell off the trees of the forest. As each ounce was shed from the trees, they raised up their still lifeless twigs up as if glorifying the sun, thanking it for removing the burden of many months. Throughout the forest cascades of snow starting from the tops of the highest branches tumbled and glinted like diamonds in the sun as the chunks were forced through the sifter of small branches by gravity. The warm rays of sun, an unknown entity through winter, warmed the dark branches. One by one they were free. 

The first time you taste spring after the winter is a moment of true joy. The resilience to cold developed through the winter makes you bold enough to walk in the 30 degree temps in a flannel. Moist air on your lips from evaporating snow, the heat of the sun on your face, and a touch of warm breeze on your face may make you bound for joy. Literally bound. It’s a bound that brings a smile to your face, and if others saw you, they would smile too. The feeling of spring is infectious.

Watching the bonds of spring being softened and eventually broken is a great thing! As the sun warmed my face this week the world was a visual wonder. Snow fell from the trees in smatterings and piles, sliding off from its own weight or from external catalysis. Busy chickadees feeding around the well-stocked feeder at my house perched on twigs, gleaned through the branches, soaked up the heat, and ensured all of the snow was sloughed away from the imprisoned trees before taking flight again. 

The first taste of spring is bittersweet. The knowledge that it ‘came too soon’ only pushes me to enjoy it more while I can. Winter certainly will try to take hold once again, and I will inwardly smile knowing that the next time it may be vanquished for good.

A few days ago the winter wonderland at the Sustainable Village was erased in an afternoon. I realized that the moment was happening so quickly that it could be captured on camera. Setting my up my camera I timelapsed the scene for the rest of the day. As you watch this video, focus on a spot and watch the change. I hope it gives you cheer and excitement for spring. Even if it is just a taste!