Gloom and ice pile ashore on a cold day in January. Mountains of fractured lake were pushed on to the beach by strong winds. Low clouds, colored with despair, fill the sky and soul. An other-worldly stage is set by the forces of nature. Close your coat tight. Turn your back to the ice world. Seek shelter. Gloom and ice close in.
weather
All posts tagged weather
It has been a rough day or two for those of us affected by the blast of frigid air ushered in by the “polar vortex.” These are also tough times for wildlife, often determining who survives into springtime. Today someone excitedly called my attention to a flock of American Robins. A dozen or so birds had gathered near some windows; they were alternately picking fruit from neighboring Hawthorne trees and sheltering themselves from the brutal wind along the building’s wall. A thaw is coming in a couple of days. I hope the birds can tough it out ’til then.
The weather has been interesting if uninviting for a currently part-time photographer like me. I’ve managed to get out now and again and have added photos to my Google+ account. I have also neglected this blog and my portfolio site(s). Bad. Today we took a brief walk at the Cuyahoga Valley National Park Station Road trailhead to see what the rails, bridges, river, and canal looked like on a dark, mild, and snow-covered winter’s day. I shot a number of images of slush-covered wetland areas of interesting color; I’ll need to work on those some more. A couple of other shots, shown here, rather illustrated quiet midday moments in the park.This year I hope to put together another photography show, enter a juried show or two (if I can find them), and possibly enter a contest, though I usually avoid those. For now, however, I’ll simply try and get out and shoot more than I have and bring back some pleasing images to share one way or another. Happy new year!
The sky cleared for a while Sunday afternoon and evening, providing us a break in the recent long string of gray, wet, and chilly days. As the sun set beautiful cirrus clouds graced the western sky.
Though the day’s grand sunset was blocked by trees from our direct view, we did receive an extraordinary and beautiful gift. High-altitude clouds, lit by near-full sun, were bright and white while scudding along under them, low clouds were stained in rusty tones by rays of sunset-tinted light.
The sight was typically short-lived as clouds dissolved into darkness and overcast again overtook us. For a shining moment, however, the sky was filled with multi-colored clouds.
The place where land and water meet is transformed at this time of year. The waters of Lake Erie are rolling free and fluidly but at the shoreline, things change. Objects on shore, some already coated with snow, are wet with spray become anchors for ice. Snow-heavy clouds hang low, block the sun, and turn the world monochrome. Winter is yet to come though its shadow runs ahead.
Autumn is in full-force. Mornings may be frosty and the light softened by cloud. Colors have faded from the brilliance of a couple of weeks ago to, now, browns and deep orange — where leaves are to be seen. Many, maybe most trees have dropped their leaves now drained of chlorophyll and useless to them. This morning was crisp, clear, and dim; beautiful in its own way.
Typical of November, though usually late-November, today was chilly, wet, and gloomy. Braving some morning sprinkles, I ventured near the lake with my trusty old Canon EOS 50D. I thought, at the very least, I could capture some interesting cloud or mood shots; and I did. What turned out to be my favorite was, however, a surprise. I spotted a tree clinging to a lakefront cliff — one I’ve photographed before — enrobed now in deep-red colored leaves. Even in the subdued light of a cloudy morning, the tree stood out against a backdrop of gray clouds and slate waves. As a bonus, light processing brought out subtle coloration in the dark lake waters. I spent too little time on this morning of moody mists and watercolor landscapes, before light rain forced me away.
Heading out this morning to breakfast and a bit of grocery shopping we were treated to an amazing sunrise. At first sight the appearance was one of floating bits of paper in the sky with edges trimmed with fire. While I had a decent camera with me, there was no decent place to stop for a clear view — only trees, wires, and buildings. We pressed on, looking now for an open space and, at long last, found one. The air will chill and the breeze was strong and it wasn’t long before my fingers hurt. Still, even though I missed shots of the sky’s peak color, the cloud forms and the rapidly changing hues were well worth the effort.
Excited by the prospect of, at long last, getting a nice picture of the Belt of Venus phenomenon, I set out before dawn. My destination was a spot in Brunswick, Ohio where there is available the best view of the western horizon about which I know. I worried, as I sat behind a pickup truck at a red light, that I would be too late to see, much less photograph, the colorful sight. Seemingly much later I arrived and was rewarded with a commanding view of the peaking Belt of Venus. The first “best” shot is shown above, with the broad dark band of Earth’s shadow along the horizon, colorful areas above. I shot a good many more images as the minutes passed, and watched the shadow band grow more and more narrow as the sun rose behind me and the shadow dropped beyond the horizon. As the dark band disappeared I heard the calls of approaching geese. My shot was already framed and, as I’d hoped and expected, the Canada geese glided in for a landing on a small pond in the foreground of my second “best” image. I stayed a bit longer and shot a few more frames but as I watched, the colors faded and sunlight could be seen crawling towards me across the treetops below. Fingers cold and stiff, I collapsed the tripod, stowed my gear, and headed off to breakfast. That was a fine way to start my day: with a good Belt … of Venus!
The lovely atmospheric effect called the Belt of Venus was quite visible this morning; I was able to capture it just before the rising sun wiped it out. Looking west, just a bit after sunrise, we see a dark shadow band near the horizon — Earth’s shadow projecting off through the atmosphere. Above the shadow are warm colors caused by atmospheric scattering of light. I’m hoping, some time over the next few clear mornings, to capture earlier and better views of this beautiful phenomenon.
















