Motley Crew

Frequently spotted along the ring road, Icelandic horses always draw my attention with their flowing manes. When time allows, I will often stop and admire their beauty. Sometimes they are curious and approach me, other times they keep their distance...either is enjoyable and peaceful. Proudly rocking the style of hair-metal bands of the '80s, they stole the show on this otherwise dreary day.

I was experiencing my second straight day of snowstorms. No sunrise, sunset, or Northern lights were visible. Hardly anything was visible, even in the middle of the day. I spent most of the time cooped up in my campervan, monitoring the forecast and road conditions. It was becoming clear that the end of my visit would not be as I had hoped. I had to return to Reykjavík tomorrow, while the roads were still passible.

This is what much of southern Iceland looked like for 3 days and my view for most of my drive. Lots of white…

I started driving at first light (if you can call it light), knowing speed would be severely limited. I did see a few cars traveling in the opposite direction, but mostly I saw nothing except markers suggesting there was a road somewhere under my tires. Clouds became visible after about three hours, and the weather calmed. It was a welcomed relief for me and a small herd of horses that I spotted up ahead.

Needing a break, I stopped to rest and appreciate the horses. They were in their full furriness, having developed a second coat for winter. They were also curious, perhaps surprised to see a stranger given the weather, and approached me. We kept each other company for about twenty minutes, while another storm was brewing in the distance. As the sky darkened, I enthusiastically grabbed my camera for the first time in three days.

A splash of color, a bit of contrast and, a lot of hair saved the end of my trip. Keep rockin' Icelandic horses!

Stargazing

White Pocket is one of my favorite places in the U.S. Southwest. It requires a long drive on unpaved roads in a high clearance four-wheel-drive vehicle. When you arrive, it is as if you landed on another planet. A "pocket" refers to a relatively small area of land markedly different from its surroundings. Sandy plains with sparse bushes and small trees dominate the area, but inside the roughly 1 square mile of White Pocket, are marvelous rock formations begging to be photographed. They range from white brain-like (shown here) to vibrant, wind-shaped yellow, orange, and red combinations. An extra benefit of its remote location is the lack of light pollution. The stars you see with the naked eye are jaw-dropping.

I hired an experienced guide to navigate the challenging route. We arrived at noon with a plan to camp overnight, maximizing photo opportunities for the day, sunset, night, and sunrise. Understanding the Milky Way would rise from the Southeast, we scouted several interesting foregrounds for astrophotography as we hiked and photographed the pocket during the day. A short-lived (but surprisingly dense) Arizona snowstorm arrived around 5 pm, forcing us to set-up camp. The snow canceled our sunset shoot, and lingering clouds threatened our night session as well. Fortunately, at 2:30 am, all was clear. It was cold and damp, but we were determined to take advantage of the opportunity.

Dawning headlamps, we hiked through snowcovered sand and brush to this "brain" formation. Luckily, most of the snow had melted on the hard surfaces revealing the intricate lines and patterns. It also created some new pools and added a couple of inches of depth to existing ones. As the Milky Way began to show itself, I set up my gear and started shooting.

Once I had captured exposures for the sky and the foreground, I decided to insert myself into the image. I slowly climbed to the top of the rock formation while utilizing an interval timer on my camera. While the formation doesn't look intimidating, the climb in the dark definitely was! I felt clumsy, dressed in heavy boots and clothing. Without much to hold onto, the ascent was slow but steady. Upon reaching the top, I remotely captured some exposures of the shadowy figure (me) gazing at the stars.

Stairrow

During a rainy day in Phuket, I spent some time exploring our hotel. I was bored and stuck inside, so I went for a stroll to pass the time. Wandering down a random hallway, I was surprised to see this modern/minimal scene ahead. My eyes first went to the bright neon green exit sign, but I could also appreciate the symmetry encapsulating the arrow-shaped staircase.

It was the combination of these features that intrigued me. All were fighting for my attention, but none of them could hold it. I would enjoy the architecture for a moment and then move my eyes to the exit sign for a moment. They needed each other, a combination of structure and whimsy.

The colorful green light brings some playfulness to the scene. In complete contrast to the structure below, it is bright, bold, and slightly off-center. However, the sign loses value without the beautiful arrangement of multiple right angles.

A lot of structure, with a little whimsy. I took a photo.

One side note. To the right is an unbroken wall. The exit sign arrow pointing right should be pointing upwards. More whimsy?

Trunk Wrestle

During our African safari in 2019, one of my favorite afternoon activities was hanging out near this watering hole in Kenya. Over three days, I learned the procession of animals visiting the watering hole was consistent and even predictable. The warthogs were always the first to arrive, followed shortly after by small herds of gazelle, impala & antelope. Zebras were usually next in the queue, but one day a family of giraffes cut in line and arrived ahead of them. Lastly, always, were the elephants.

As the elephants slowly marched in, all the other animals exited the scene. As a result, the elephants had the watering hole to themselves. Without competition, they took their time and enjoyed drinking for close to an hour. Once fully refreshed, some would turn their attention from the water and interact with each other. One day, these two adults engaged in a playful trunk wrestling match. They were not violent or aggressive, but rather joyful and affectionate. At one point, their trunks & tusks were so intertwined that it seemed impossible to unravel. But then, similar to a Chinese finger puzzle, they drew even closer and released each other with ease.

Mattina di San Marino

A country within a country, San Marino is an off-the-beaten-path destination inside Italy. A sole survivor of Italy's once powerful city-state network, it is the world's oldest surviving sovereign state and its oldest republic (since AD 301).

Situated mainly on the top of Mount Titano, the city and its three fortifications dominate the principally flat surrounding area. The Guaita tower (shown here) is approximately (2,424 feet,739 meters) above the valley below, providing outstanding views along the coast. Facing east, it is also the first structure in the area to greet the sun rising over the Adriatic.

Overshadowed by more famous Italian destinations, it casts its own shadow over parts of central Italy. Designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2008, it is well worth a day trip for the views and photo opportunities.

Undivided Attention

Leopards are a premium sighting in the Serengeti. They are elusive creatures, mostly active during the night. But on occasion, they are spotted during the day and usually draw a crowd after guides radio their location. We were fortunate, as we saw leopards every day we were there.

On our third morning, only 5 minutes after leaving camp, we spotted this one on a rock surveilling the area. We sat here for approximately 15 minutes watching the watcher. 98% of the time, it was looking off in the distance to its left. It was not concerned with us and was far more interested in a troop of baboons making their way closer to our position. Occasionally though, it would casually turn its head and look directly at us. It had our undivided attention for 15 minutes while giving us only moments of the same.

Situated about 10 feet above us, the composition was almost equally divided between the bright, hazy morning sky and the neutral stone perch. Of course, there were colorful grasses, trees, and birds just out of view, but zoomed in on a 600mm lens, they all disappeared. Later in the day, after viewing the LCD image on the back of my camera, our guide commented on how unusual it was that a leopard is the most colorful object in a scene.

As the baboons approached, the leopard descended into the long grass for cover. We thought there may soon be a chase, but either out of luck or innate sense, the troop changed direction and avoided confrontation. Aware the opportunity was lost, the leopard disappeared into heavy brush.

Looking at the world from the bottom of a well.

During a road trip through Italy in 2018, I made a stop in the beautiful hilltop town of Orvieto. After spending the morning hours viewing the numerous churches and piazzas in the city center, I walked a series of narrow streets to investigate the famous well on the outer edge.

It is known as the Pozzo di San Patrizio (St. Patrick’s Well) and is a triumph of Renaissance engineering. It was commissioned by Pope Clement VII in 1527 while taking refuge in Orvieto during the “Sack of Rome.” He chose Antonio da Sangallo the Younger to design and build the well as a city water supply in case of siege.

It features two staircases in a double-helix design. Circling the center opening, you can descend to the bottom, and then ascend to the top without encountering any traffic in the other direction (perfect for donkeys hauling buckets up and down). Lighting is provided by arched windows along the two staircases and reaches the bottom depth of 72 meters (174.4 feet).

Incredibly functional, but also surprisingly beautiful when viewed from the bottom.

Albarracín

On my last road trip through Spain, I focused mostly on visiting and photographing lesser-known towns that are not on most tourist itineraries. One of my favorites was Albarracín.

I truly enjoyed hiking through, around, and even under this sleepy town in the Iberian mountains. The oldest part of the town is the elevated walled city dating back to the mid-1100s. However, there is also a lower part straddling the banks of the Guadalaviar River that flows underneath the walled city. It is not visible here, but there is an archway with a road and walking paths that allow you to travel under the old town.

It only took 20 minutes to wander through town from one side to the other. The streets were narrow and hilly and did not offer many scenic viewpoints. As a result, I spent most of my time hiking outside of the walls to find a vantage point where I could see the entire village.

When I arrived at this overlook looking eastward, it was late afternoon. The higher peaks to the West were already casting part of the valley in shadow, but parts of the city were still harshly illuminated. As I only had 90 minutes until sunset, I decided to set up and wait for softer light. Once the mountains behind me blocked all of the direct light, I started shooting.

The valley was all in shadow, but the ambient light bouncing off the atmosphere still rendered the details below. When the pinkish hue arrived in the East, I think it also added some saturation to the reddish rooftops.

It takes a commitment to visit Albarracín. It is about a 2 1/2 hour drive from Valencia, perhaps 3 hours from Toledo, partially on narrow and winding mountain roads. In my view, it is worth the effort and one of the most picturesque hill towns in Spain.

Rising From The Depths

During the past three years, I have photographed several buildings designed by Santiago Calatrava. I discovered his work accidentally when I visited the transportation hub in New York City. Since then, I have sought out his other projects in Europe. I suspect that his work can be divisive, but enjoy his combinations of architecture, art, and whimsy. They almost always present multiple photographic interpretations. When I discovered that he designed the City of Arts and Sciences in Valencia, I immediately started planning a trip.

There are four structures in this image. The closest structure is L'Hemisfèric (an Imax theater) and is meant to resemble a large eye. The next structure is the Museu de les Ciències Príncipe Felipe, a science museum with a bone-like exterior. The Assut de l'Or Bridge is the third structure with the final building being L'Àgora, a concert and event hall. All are different in size and shape, yet from this angle, they blend together into one piece. Add in the pools of water that surround much of the project and a creature emerges, rising from the depths.

I hoped to photograph the structures at night, as Calatrava often illuminates them in interesting ways. I positioned myself on a bridge overlooking the area, as the elevated view better revealed the wonderful reflections. The water is shallow and choppy during even mild winds, but the dark scene allowed me to soften it with a long exposure. The dynamic range of light in the scene was more than my camera sensor could process. As a result, I blended this long exposure with both a regular exposure and an under-exposed image (for the very bright lights).

More to come from Valencia & Calatrava...here are links to my interpretations of his other designs.

Golden Sentinel

Skeleton Key

Baleen

Balloons Over Buddhas

Every morning in Bagan, hot air balloons lift off near the Irrawaddy river and slowly drift over the numerous temples and pagodas. They grant tourists a unique way to view the scenic valley, but perhaps even better, they provide a great photo opportunity for those who stay on the ground.

In the wake of recent earthquakes and to preserve the structures, Bagan has banned climbing on almost all of its temples. Tourists used to flock to the large Sulamuni Temple for iconic views of the sunrise. As this is no longer possible, finding viewpoints above the tree canopy are limited. Fortunately, there are still two smaller temples that remain open for sunrise and sunset viewing. Space is limited, so you have to arrive early, but witnessing the morning ritual is worth the early wake-up call.

My guide and I arrived here in the darkness. Using a flashlight, we climbed the narrow, internal staircase until we reached the upper balcony. There were already 6-8 people there when we arrived, but a space looking towards the golden Ananda temple was still available. I quickly set up my gear and then waited patiently for the show to start.

As the sun appeared, the haze took on a pleasing glow and the first glimpse of a balloon could be seen in the distance. Soon there were dozens of balloons dotting the sky and approaching our location. The procession lasted about an hour during which I alternated between taking photos and quietly observing the exhibition. After the color and balloons faded, I spent another 20 minutes enjoying the panoramic view on the other side of the temple. A memorable morning in an extraordinary place.

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Staring at the Ceiling

During these strange times, I assume many of you are spending more time than usual at home, sheltering-in-place, and/or social-distancing. Over the last several weeks, I have discovered myself unintentionally staring at the ceiling as my mind wanders or I simply lose focus. I recently discussed this with friends and was relieved to hear that they too are having similar occurrences. Perhaps our minds are doing their best to roam mentally, while physically we are limited to do so. Anyway, these discussions brought to mind a time when I purposely & intently stared at the ceiling...to capture a photograph.

This was taken in the Pinakothek, an art museum in Munich, Germany. It is a wonderful place filled with brilliant paintings and sculptures. Yet, every time I visit, I find myself examining the building itself more than the artwork around me. There is something about the convergence of lines and shapes throughout the various halls & rooms that I find more gratifying than what is hanging on its walls.

Its atrium is one of my favorite areas. As you look upward, a multi-paneled glass ceiling exposes light upon the surrounding circles & shapes. This particular day was very cloudy, which allowed me to expose for all light in the scene. In the absence of direct sunlight and harsh shadows, the symmetry can be enjoyed without distraction.

The most challenging part of the capture was getting low enough to capture the entire scene. Even with a wide-angle lens, I had to get the camera to floor-level to get all of the details I wanted. You may remember I had a similar challenge in Naples while photographing a staircase (The Hidden Galaxy). My solution here was the same...lay on my back & press the camera to my face...then try to produce a symmetrical composition. So there I was, staring at the ceiling, much like the last few weeks…but with full concentration and focus.

This is the second image I have posted from the Pinakothek. My previous image (The Road to Enlightenment) can be viewed here.

Pure Procession

I must admit, Laos exceeded all of my expectations. From the people to the food, landscapes, waterfalls & mountains, it is fantastic. 

Before I arrived, I had done some research on the tak bat (the morning collection of food in Luang Prabang by the resident Buddhist monks.) I knew it was something that I wanted to witness, so I set my alarm for 5 am to the displeasure of my wife. 

The tak bat begins at 5:30, so if you want to witness it, you must get up early. I tried my best to be quiet, as I gathered my gear and left our room to walk the chilly streets of Luang Prabang. I scouted a temple the previous day that was away from the more touristy parts of the city and quickly walked to its location. I intentionally avoided the tourists as I wanted to see this ritual without distraction. Setting up on the opposite sidewalk, I waited patiently for groups of monks coming from the 80+ temples in the city to walk past. 

For centuries, the monks have walked the streets in silent meditation while locals place gifts of food into their bowls. The locals position themselves on the sidewalk at least 15 minutes before the procession starts. They mostly sit in chairs, but some kneel in respect. As each monk approaches in their saffron-clad robes (ranging from rich orange to red), the locals graciously place a portion of fresh sticky rice into the bowl that hangs from their shoulders. This is a symbiotic relationship. Feeding the monks and alternatively receiving the blessings, tak bat supports both the monks (who need the food) and the almsgivers (who desire spiritual redemption). Again, all in silence, respect on all sides, and amazing to witness.

This image was taken when it was still mostly dark. Some streetlights were illuminating the temple, but the sun was still below the horizon. My wish was to capture the monks in motion and the low light helped me achieve this result. I played around with some different settings and liked the motion blur produced with a 1/8 second shutter speed. Then I took several images of passing monks with the white temple as a backdrop. It is interesting how much movement is captured in just 1/8 of a second. With limited light in the scene, the monks themselves almost fade away, leaving only their brilliant robes reflecting light. I increased the original exposure in processing to brighten the scene and reveal more detail.

I stayed here for approximately 2 hours until the procession finished. As the sun rose and lit the area, I captured some sharper images of the participants. For those interested, I have included some of these images below.

Lao woman staying warm while awaiting the next group of monks in the procession.

Lao woman offering rice to one of the monks

Boy monk participating in the tak bat

Star Chamber

If there is a good thing about quarantining, it is that I have had time to review some older images that, for whatever reason, have been sitting idle on my computer.

This image is from the Brudermuhlstrasse Ubahn station in Munich, Germany. I chose it as part of a voluntary project to photograph the artistic, modern subway stations around the city. The project started during a prolonged stretch of cold, grey weather. With nothing on the surface inspiring me, I ventured underground and started exploring the rail network crisscrossing the region. Various lines have been expanded over the years and the more contemporary stations provide a refreshing take on what a subway station should be. Almost all are different in architectural style and color...beauty underground.

This is a blend of 3 images taken over 30 minutes. A train would appear about every 5 minutes on alternating sides of the platform. It took me several attempts to capture a long exposure of the trains on each side. After some practice, I dialed in the settings and timing. Using a 4-second exposure I captured several images as each one entered or departed the station. I blended the left with the right and added a third underexposed image for the bright overhead lights.

The project later expanded to include stations in Hamburg, Stockholm, Vienna, Berlin, Naples, Budapest, and St. Petersburg. I hope the list will continue to expand when travel restrictions are eased. In the meantime, I have several more images from the project waiting patiently on my computer.

Heads Up!

While in Kenya, we spent a few days in a remote lodge near the Chyulu Hills National Park. After our morning game drives, I would always come to this watering hole that is a short walk from the lodge. It is one of the few watering holes in the area, so it is a great place to sit and observe animals as they stop for refreshment. The viewing area is protected and is partially underground with only a small opening at ground level. As a result, it provides an interesting viewpoint looking up at the wildlife.

I would sit here for hours watching elephants, wildebeest, caribou, and warthogs each take their turn. One of my favorite moments each day was when a group of giraffes approached. They would slowly move in with graceful strides as they scanned the area for danger. Almost to perfection, they would each look in different directions so that all sides were examined at the same time. Eventually, concluding it was safe, they would each drink one by one. If you have not witnessed giraffes drinking, it is an interesting procedure. Their grace disappears for a moment as they slowly widen their front legs and slightly bend their knees to get closer to the ground. It is awkward at best, and when they do lower their head, you get the sense they are going to fall over forward. After a quick drink, they often rapidly raise their head to scan the area and have to go through the clumsy process again. Incredible to watch though, especially from only a few meters away, and an excellent photo opportunity.

The dynamic range of the scene was too much for my camera sensor, so I lowered the exposure to account for the bright clouds. The sky was beautiful and I did not want to lose any of its detail. At the time, I expected I would brighten the shadows in post-processing to reveal more of the scene. However, after viewing the original image on my computer, I loved the dramatic contrast. Giraffes possess such a unique form that, even in silhouette, you can easily identify them as the subjects, so I decided to keep them in shadow. There are spots and patterns visible on the skin if you look close enough...a small reward for those of you who investigate the darkness.

Bookworms

This building has been on my photography wish list for a while. After seeing several images posted by other photographers, I did some research to find out what it was and where it was located. When I discovered it was the main city library in Stuttgart, I immediately starting planning the two-hour drive to visit.

Not only is it an incredible place, but the staff exhibit generosity toward photographers that is rare. On their website, you can request a photographer pass for a specific date in advance of your visit. Upon arrival, you sign in and they give you a camera sticker that you place on your shirt. This identifies you as a registered guest and allows you two hours to use tripods and other camera equipment that otherwise would not be permitted. They ask you to be considerate, respecting the space and privacy of other visitors during your stay.

The ability to use a tripod here was crucial. While I have improved my ability to capture architecture handheld, there is no substitute for being able to patiently align and frame rectilinear spaces. The system worked beautifully, as the security guards allowed me to maneuver up & down floors and in & out of corners trying various viewpoints while being mindful of other people. This image is one of many favorites. I hope to share several more from this experience in future articles.

I wish more locations would employ a similar photography policy, rather than banning tripods outright (or even cameras altogether). There were two other photographers in the library that morning and everyone was respectful to each other, the staff and the visitors. Stuttgart is deservedly proud of its library and I am grateful they allow photographers the freedom to capture and share its incredible design.

Dragon Bones

In my travels, I have found Utah to possess some of the most captivating landscapes anywhere in the United States. The color variation found in the strata combined with the abundance of photogenic rock formations provides unique opportunities not found elsewhere. Most of this, of course, is observed easily from the ground. However, there are times when an aerial view gives the best (and perhaps only) perspective of the beauty that lies underneath.

I captured this with an aerial drone over some desert badlands. Standing on the surface, the intricacies of the wind & water erosion patterns are barely visible. From above, the scene is complex and filled with textures and interesting shapes. Upon seeing this through my drone's camera, I had a notion I was gazing over the bones of mythical beasts...a graveyard of dragons. Nature can provide some amazing abstracts. 

In all seriousness, there are likely ancient bones under these dunes! We just refer to them as dinosaurs, not dragons. :-)

For those interested in the geeky, technical side of things, this is a panorama made from multiple images stitched together in Photoshop. The ground formations are so large that I could only capture a small portion with each image. I had to position my drone, and then reposition it using a grid-like pattern while taking images in each part of the grid. It was tedious (and challenging due to the strong winds that day), but eventually, I managed to photograph 34 overlapping images covering the region of you see here.

Creating the panorama was easy, as Photoshop worked its magic and automatically combined the multiple images using overlapping features. While it may appear so, I did not color grade the image into 3 different areas. The subtle blue, red & black colors are earth tones that naturally appear here with the yellow being the highest elevation of soil. Simply adjusting the haze and clarity exposed the texture and colors in each layer.

Wonderful Perspective

As a child, I was fascinated by the pyramids and the Sphinx. I loved watching the National Geographic tv specials that provided views above, around and even inside the monuments. Seeing them in person was a lifelong goal and proved to be a most enjoyable experience.

This was not a photography-focused trip. The goal was simply to see these magnificent structures first-hand and gaze at the last remaining wonders of the ancient world. However, there were a couple of moments when I was happy I had my camera with me.

I was traveling alone, but I hired a local guide on my first day to drive me to Saqqara, the pyramid of Djoser, Memphis and, lastly, Giza. My guide, Haitham, was a great host and happily shared numerous details about each of the places we visited. We walked around step pyramids, bent pyramids & black pyramids. I even ventured inside the red pyramid of Snefru, traversing its 200-foot center shaft to reach the underground chamber (amazing!). Haitham seemed to know everything about the structures and the history of an ancient civilization. We ended the day at the most famous site, Giza.

If you have had the pleasure of visiting the Giza Plateau, you know that there are two main areas to view the pyramids. The first is up close to the Great Pyramid of Khufu, right after you enter the gates. This area is perhaps the most touristy with merchants, camel handlers selling rides and guides directing large groups. Despite the noise and commotion, nothing can take away the awe of standing so small next to this massive structure.

The second area that all of the guides take their guests is a short drive away. It is an elevated viewing area (basically a parking lot) that overlooks the entire complex and provides a spot for guides to take photos of visitors with the pyramids in the background. It is a nice view, but I had researched a better spot before arriving in Egypt. After Haitham took my photo here, I asked him if we could walk to another area that provided a different perspective. He seemed surprised at my suggestion, but he graciously agreed, saying it was my tour...we will go where you want to go.

The main Giza overlook…

I pointed to an area about 1.5 kilometers to the south. We left the rest of the tourists behind and started walking. It seemed close enough, but the soft sand made the hike slow and more difficult than I had expected. We arrived at the spot about 20 minutes later. Haitham and I sat down to rest and enjoy the view. There was an occasional camel handler giving a ride, but otherwise, we had the area to ourselves.

Haitham was uncharacteristically quiet. He stopped sharing details of the complex, the pyramids or how they were constructed...we just sat there in silence. Eventually, he turned to me and said with a smile, "What a wonderful perspective!" I am not sure if the pun was intended…

He then confessed that he had never been to this spot before. He told me he grew up in the shadow of the pyramids and had been a tour guide for over ten years, but had never ventured the 1.5 kilometers we just finished to see this alignment. I found his statements hard to believe, but his joy seemed genuine. He then asked if I would take his photo and I knew he was being honest. There I was, the tourist, taking a photo of the local guide with the pyramids in the background.

The next morning I was first through the gates and again made the hike to this spot. I stayed here for at least an hour by myself. The light was gentler this morning with pleasing shadows. When the first camel handler dotted the foreground, I captured an image.

I happily sat here for another hour, in awe of the panorama in front of me…appreciating the wonderful perspective. Thanks for the image title Haitham. :-)

My guide and fellow tourist :-)

Journey to the center of the Earth

This is the Earth Hall inside the Natural History Museum in London. Hoping to capture images of some of the spaces before they filled with people, I arrived early and was one of the first people through the doors. After spending my first moments photographing the great Hintze Hall (published earlier in the Looking Down on Darwin post), I quickly made my way to this great space.

I thought the room would fill up quickly, but I ended up having the place to myself for about 10 minutes. Being alone, I had the benefit of getting some compositions that otherwise would have been difficult. Standing here at the bottom of the escalator is one example, and it turned out to be my favorite. With no one in front or behind me, I could take my time. This proved essential as it took several hand-held attempts to try to align myself and the camera in the right spot (tripods are not allowed).

I recently rediscovered this image going through some old files on my computer. I have always liked this image, but for whatever reason, I hadn't published it until now. With the museum closed indefinitely due to the global health situation, it seems like the right time to finally share it with you. It is best to experience this chamber in person, so let's hope the museum is able to open its doors again soon.

Angelic Aurora

In late February, I ventured back to Iceland for a week-long road trip. My previous visits were always in warmer months, but experiencing it in the winter has been a goal for some time. Primarily, I hoped to witness and photograph the northern lights. Within 6 hours of arriving, I was fortunate to accomplish both.

Shortly after arriving, I picked up my vehicle and drove 4.5 hours (at night) on snowy/icy roads to reach the area with the best chance to witness the spectacle. There was no guarantee that the weather would allow a glimpse of the northern lights, but the forecast was promising.

I arrived here at 10 pm and the skies started to clear around 11 pm. I eagerly awaited the appearance of any aurora activity, and at midnight the first glimpses started to be visible. Their activity increased over the next 45 minutes and it became a genuine light show. Despite the freezing, windy conditions, I was immune to the cold as I witnessed the dancing and swirling over Kirkjufell (Church Mountain). Around 1 am the clouds moved in, the show came to an end, and I started noticing the tingling in my fingers and toes.

As I packed up my equipment and walked back to my vehicle, I reveled in what I just experienced. Having been to Iceland 5 times, I have come to appreciate these precious moments when the weather cooperates. All you can do as a photographer is give yourself the opportunity for a great image.

The next 6 days were dominated by winter storms, "white-outs" of blowing snow (where driving was impossible), cloudy night skies and few, if any photo opportunities. I continued to put myself in position for photos, but during one 48 hour stretch, I did not even take off my lens cap.

This can be Iceland...frustrating, unpredictable and sometimes unforgiving. However, when everything aligns, it is magical…and why I keep coming back.

Mayhem

During my July safari to the Serengeti, I was able to witness a part of the great migration. This magnificent collection of over 1.5 million moving wildebeests is the largest terrestrial mammal migration in the world and considered one of the wonders of Africa.

Perhaps the most thrilling part of the migration to witness is the crossing of the Mara River. Here, herds of wildebeest brave the crocodile-infested waters to reach the fertile plains of Kenya.

As our guide drove us along the Mara River, we could see a black swarm gathering in the distance. It was impossible to determine an exact number, but our guide estimated there were at least fifteen thousand in the herd.

They slowly approached the river and waited along the bank for nearly 45 minutes. Then, one brave animal broke the serenity and rushed toward the water. At that point, the herd mentality kicked in and it was near chaos.

For approximately 8 minutes, the scene was full of panic and confusion. A huge cloud of dust appeared as thousands of wildebeests clumsily raced into the water. Many formed a tight line attempting to reach the other side, but some were confused by the surrounding mayhem and stood motionless. There were even some animals that turned around after a successful crossing and retreated back across the river, forcing them to elude the crocodiles a third time after realizing their mistake. It was a frantic and exciting spectacle.

Ultimately though, the crossing was a complete success. The crocodiles made several pursuits (and there were some narrow escapes), but every wildebeest survived the experience.

This photo captures one brief moment in the frenzy. Full of dust, dirt, disorder, and determination.