but the hushed
wingbeats
of
the multitude
overhead.
but the hushed
wingbeats
of
the multitude
overhead.
ohio
All posts tagged ohio
but the hushed
wingbeats
of
the multitude
overhead.
Tuesday, September 17 brought the opportunity to see a partial lunar eclipse without staying up all night. That’s the sort I call a prime-time event. The skies were partly to mostly cloudy through the evening but, as the time for maximum eclipse approached, breaks were appearing in the cloud cover. I set up my camera and tripod and, with about 15 minutes’ lead time, headed out to the patio. I made a few test shots using the Canon EOS 7D Mk. 2 camera, and then a few more to keep. One shot was made at 10:44 PM EDT simply to record maximum. My favorite images, and by-eye views for that matter, were of Moon as thin clouds passed across and near the glowing orb, lending color and mystery to the scene.
That same night I made a copy of my “maximum eclipse” digital image and sent it off to the local newspaper. Too late for the next day’s edition, my photo showed up today (Thursday), not only on Page 1 but at three columns, huge! The paper’s rendering of the image lost a bit in the translation but still represented what was seen.
I glanced out the window this morning and spied this male Eastern Bluebird (Sialia sialis) looking all…. broken. The bird was perched atop the shepherd’s hook hanger for the bird feeder six feet off the ground, head cocked to one side, wings disheveled, and totally still. Sick? Injured? A little birdie weirdo? I don’t know! After what seemed a long time, he righted himself, shook himself back into shape, preened a bit, then briefly repeated the pose before flying off. Mrs. Bluebird paid a brief visit shortly after the mister left and she behaved normally. Thank goodness Mr. Bluebird stayed in place just long enough for me to capture a few frames through the window.
After a stormy night, it was a welcome surprise to look out the window and see the silhouette of a Great Blue Heron against a clear twilight sky! I watched the heron as it sat quietly for a long time at the top of a dead tree’s trunk, the lovely curvature of its long neck and smooth body evoking thoughts of Asian art. Finally the bird pulled back, lunged forward, and sprang into flight. A fine way to start the day and a new month.
It is unusual for our area to see discrete thunderstorms — individual storms visible against otherwise clear skies — so we miss out on some thrilling sights. The anvil or thunderhead of a strong storm usually happens above a lower cloud layer in our region, hidden from those of us who appreciate such things. On July 20, 2022 a severe thunderstorm rolled right overhead. I’ve rarely, if ever, heard so many cracks of thunder so close by. I was indoors, did not see the mammoth bolts directly above my roof, and was actually getting concerned the house, or my tall flagpole, would be hit. I was close to being afraid of the lightning, and that’s very unusual! The storm passed, as storms do, and I took a peek through a window. To the west the sky was clearing as the clean edge of the thunderstorm moved east but then the thrill: mammatus clouds! Technically, mammatus are not rare phenomena, often hanging from the anvils of thunderstorms, but we rarely see them here for the reasons given above — we rarely see the anvils. The sky was full of them! I grabbed my iPhone (nearest camera) and hurried outside. Though I feared it would end quickly, the display went on til after dark. Here are a few views…
I stayed up late, anticipating the arrival of a powerful storm system the night of June 13. The MCS (mesoscale convective system) tracked to the south of its predicted path, leaving me at the northern end of storm activity. I thought I was out of luck but saw some lightning and decided to try for some photos. My persistence and resulting sleep deprivation was rewarded. I witnessed several impressive displays of “anvil crawler” lightning — cloud-to-cloud discharges along the cloud base — but missed a couple. At midnight, however, this amazing crawler filled my visual field and the view from the camera. The strong horizontal bolts steal the show but look closer. Even in this reduced-resolution web version of the photo, streaks of lightning reach up and down across the bottom of the storm cloud. I remember seeing the motion of the light, almost like an advertising sign, luminescence racing along those fine lines. The MCS blasted across our region, downing trees and utility poles along its path. Here, the storm passed dropping only a little rain with virtually no wind, allowing me to make this capture (a single exposure). The local newspaper surprised me by using the image — full-frame, in color — huge on their front page! It’s hard for newspapers to hold the finest details in print but the e-version looks pretty good.
We’ve not been out much on nature hikes this year. We did, however, pay a brief visit to a local park Saturday, and spotted a few dragonflies. This is one of many Autumn Meadowhawks we observed that afternoon at the Medina County Park District’s Alderfer-Chatfield Wildlife Sanctuary. These red beauties are usually the last dragonfly seen each year with a flight season that begins in July and which can extend to mid-November.
As a storm rolls away and sun breaks through, a double rainbow appears over Medina, Ohio’s old Town Hall and Engine House on Public Square. Dark streaks, anticrepuscular rays, cross the bright rainbow arc.
Returning from a storm interception last night (June 10) and watching the sky from a red traffic signal, I saw a brilliant rainbow glowing against the dark background of clouds. The receding severe thunderstorm was rolling off to the east and the late evening sun was shining through clearing skies in the west. I hoped I could reach Medina’s Public Square before the rainbow faded, since there was the possibility of shooting landmark buildings with a rainbow above. I parked and trotted with my camera across the Square’s green and in light rain, with occasional cloud-crawling lightning overhead, I found my spot. That late sunshine was lighting the bright red top of the city’s old Town Hall and Engine House, dark sky in the background, and — yes! — that brilliant rainbow with a companion arc making the picture. I stood there for a while, shooting the rapidly changing lighting and rainbow intensity and when the sun went away, so did I. I’m very pleased with the resulting picture, which The Medina Gazette published today (at unfortunately low resolution), and I hope it brought a smile to many people who saw it.
May 10 Shelf Cloud as it clears a tree line to my west. This one was silent until it arrived with 34+ mph winds of very cold air.
It’s “shelfie” season: the time of year when springtime convective weather generates strong thunderstorms and picture-worthy shelf clouds. The popular term for shelf cloud photos, playing upon the term used for smart phone self-portraits or selfies, is shelfie.
May 10 was the first opportunity. I took up position and awaited the storm’s arrival in the parking lot of a public park. As the storm approached I could see only the separated top of the shelf above the treeline; that gave it the appearance of a wall of cloud (not a wall cloud) looming in the distance. The feature came closer and finally made visual separation from the trees and I knew I wasn’t about to be swept away!
Looking like a wall of clouds, the separated top of the approaching shelf cloud is visible above a tree line.
The storm was silent, no thunder, until it drew closer and I could hear the roar of wind in the treetops. A 34 mph peak wind was plenty strong, however, and ushered in a steep temperature drop. I was glad to have a jacket with me.
May 14 Shelf Cloud. You can see the rain curtain in the distance. When the view of the far woods turned white, I knew it was time to get into the car or get very wet!
Another photo-op presented itself with a squall line of severe thunderstorms on May 14. I thought I’d given myself enough time to reach a selected observation point in a city park in Lorain County but as I drove I realized I wouldn’t make it in time. So I bailed to a rural road and found a likely spot: a farmer’s access drive from the road to an wide-open field. I parked, got out of my car, and there it was! There was thunder and lightning with this one so I had some concern; nearby objects were better targets than me so I told myself I was okay. The shelf rolled over my location quickly. Intense rain arrived with 43 mph winds. And then it stopped. The rain and wind simply stopped. That was a very intense, concentrated line that moved along very quickly. A strange experience.
After the Storm. The rain abruptly ended, the wind calmed, and the sky to the west became bright. A strange experience.
PhotonStopper 