
City Cometscape
I thought that the view of comet Hale-Bopp over a cityscape would make a striking photograph. There were only certain view angles and observing times that worked however. To get the comet to hang over downtown Minneapolis in March, the time worked out to be around 3:00 am along a northeast line of sight. Surprisingly few vantage points existed; the streets headed off in the wrong direction, or the view was obscured by trees, buildings or streetlights.
By checking street maps and making various late night explorations to the city, I was quite excited to find this site at the south shore of Lake Calhoun. The comet was in full view, the sky clear, air transparent. I set up the camera and made a series of exposures, certain that one of them would capture the beautiful view.
The next day I decided to wind off the end of the roll and reload the camera with a different film type. This was when I discovered that there had been no film in the camera. It was a very discouraging moment.
The picture in your mind’s eye of a missed shot only gets better with time. Over the next two weeks as I tried to recreate it, the lost picture gained a stature that could not have been met by any earthly conditions.
On these outings I found that the city never sleeps. There are people out and about at all hours and my nocturnal activities seemed no more odd than the agendas of anyone else I encountered. I watched night-time trampoliners, really early joggers, and others with more private intents. It’s all part of a world detached from daylight but constantly illuminated.
Even though that first night’s view could not be reproduced, there were other views. In the end I found this entirely different composition, still from the Calhoun shore, to be perhaps an even better image to capture my original intent. Were it not for the missing film, I would have missed this picture.
Lake Calhoun looking at Minneapolis,
4:00 am 23 March 97.
Kiev-88, 80mm ,
20 seconds at f/4 on PMC400
By checking street maps and making various late night explorations to the city, I was quite excited to find this site at the south shore of Lake Calhoun. The comet was in full view, the sky clear, air transparent. I set up the camera and made a series of exposures, certain that one of them would capture the beautiful view.
The next day I decided to wind off the end of the roll and reload the camera with a different film type. This was when I discovered that there had been no film in the camera. It was a very discouraging moment.
The picture in your mind’s eye of a missed shot only gets better with time. Over the next two weeks as I tried to recreate it, the lost picture gained a stature that could not have been met by any earthly conditions.
On these outings I found that the city never sleeps. There are people out and about at all hours and my nocturnal activities seemed no more odd than the agendas of anyone else I encountered. I watched night-time trampoliners, really early joggers, and others with more private intents. It’s all part of a world detached from daylight but constantly illuminated.
Even though that first night’s view could not be reproduced, there were other views. In the end I found this entirely different composition, still from the Calhoun shore, to be perhaps an even better image to capture my original intent. Were it not for the missing film, I would have missed this picture.
Lake Calhoun looking at Minneapolis,
4:00 am 23 March 97.
Kiev-88, 80mm ,
20 seconds at f/4 on PMC400

Planetrise
The subtle details of the night sky fade away with the dawn, but the brightest remain: the planets Jupiter and Saturn rise above a windbreak on a prairie farm. The sky will brighten and they will eventually be lost (though if you know where to aim a telescope, they can be found again in broad daylight)!
On this occasion, the clear skies held through the night. The distant haze provided the right conditions to spread the long rays from the sun. It’s an unusual transition of colors from orange to blue, a combination not found in many other places in nature. The planets poke holes in the otherwise smooth shading.
Central Minnesota
11 July 99
E200 Ektachrome
On this occasion, the clear skies held through the night. The distant haze provided the right conditions to spread the long rays from the sun. It’s an unusual transition of colors from orange to blue, a combination not found in many other places in nature. The planets poke holes in the otherwise smooth shading.
Central Minnesota
11 July 99
E200 Ektachrome

Haleakala Clouds
It is an unnerving experience to be looking down at the clouds. In this view the color of the sky seems exaggerated, but it is our proximity to space that gives it the dark tint: there is less air above us at this elevation. The clouds we are looking down upon take on the reflected color of the sky. This makes a stark contrast to the rust-red landscape of the volcano’s summit. The island of Hawaii can be seen in the distance, apparently floating among the thundercells building up around it.
Haleakala Crater, Maui, HI
April 2001
Haleakala Crater, Maui, HI
April 2001

Young Moon
The young moon can be found using the technique of "averted vision" in this post-sunset photo.
Ellensburg, WA
22 June 2001
Ellensburg, WA
22 June 2001

Both Ends of the Rainbow
The late afternoon breeze pushed cumulus clouds through the mountain pass, some of them containing excess water. Dark smears drained the rain from them as they proceeded down the valley, eventually to evaporate entirely. The mist that was left behind refracted the low angle sunlight into a double rainbow. From my vantage point, the rainbow was complete, its ends striking each side of the valley making a perfect arch.
I was amazed at this. Catching sight of even a partial rainbow is a rare treat for me, but to see one this large was a life treasure! Many people in my position would stand and savor the view, my reaction was to take its picture.
It exceeded a normal viewfinder (a rainbow is 84 degrees across!) and the widest angle lens I possessed just barely fit it in the frame. I did my best to center and arrange the shot during the short life of the ephemeral arch. The picture captures the abrupt eerie change in lighting from inside to outside the rainbow. I was elated to have been at the right place at the right time.
Glacier Park MT
23 July 2001
Nikomat with 20mm lens
Elite Chrome 200 push +2 stops
I was amazed at this. Catching sight of even a partial rainbow is a rare treat for me, but to see one this large was a life treasure! Many people in my position would stand and savor the view, my reaction was to take its picture.
It exceeded a normal viewfinder (a rainbow is 84 degrees across!) and the widest angle lens I possessed just barely fit it in the frame. I did my best to center and arrange the shot during the short life of the ephemeral arch. The picture captures the abrupt eerie change in lighting from inside to outside the rainbow. I was elated to have been at the right place at the right time.
Glacier Park MT
23 July 2001
Nikomat with 20mm lens
Elite Chrome 200 push +2 stops

Monument Stonehenge
From my position just across the border into Utah, I was able to see the land I had come from, the Navaho Nation, popularly known as Monument Valley. These features of the geology stood out and were reminiscent of another place where stones had been placed to designate a sacred space.
Monument Valley, Navaho Nation
2 November 2005
Monument Valley, Navaho Nation
2 November 2005

Monumental Sunset
As I approached the Navaho Nation, the sun set and I was able to take this photo of Monument Valley from afar, silhouetted by the glowing sky.
Monument Valley, Navaho Nation
2 November 2005
Canon EOS 20Da
Monument Valley, Navaho Nation
2 November 2005
Canon EOS 20Da

Earth's Shadow behind Mitten
As the sun sets in the west, the view to the east shows a distinct purplish band at the horizon. This is the Earth’s shadow on the sky, a forecast of the twilight to come.
Monument Valley, Navaho Nation
3 November 2005
Monument Valley, Navaho Nation
3 November 2005

Earth's Shadow behind Monuments
As the sun sets in the west, the view to the east shows a distinct purplish band at the horizon. This is the Earth’s shadow on the sky, a forecast of the twilight to come.
Monument Valley, Navaho Nation
3 November 2005
Monument Valley, Navaho Nation
3 November 2005

The Belt of Venus
The rosy glow of scattered twilight in the East is known as the “Belt of Venus”, which rides above the deep blue of Earth’s shadow on the sky. Here it is witnessed from the vantage of Hawaii’s tallest peak, Mauna Kea, as the world’s premier telescopes prepare for another evening of peering into the universe.
Mauna Kea, Hawaii
3 January 2017
iPhone7+ panorama
Mauna Kea, Hawaii
3 January 2017
iPhone7+ panorama

Sunset at Mauna Kea
At the top of the tallest volcanic mountains on Hawaii are the world’s premier telescopes. They are here because the air is calm and dry, high above the clouds and turbulence of lower elevations. The tradeoff is cold and snow, a small price to pay for the chance to explore the secrets of the universe.
Mauna Kea, Hawaii
3 January 2017
iPhone7+ panorama
Mauna Kea, Hawaii
3 January 2017
iPhone7+ panorama

Astonomical League Convention
Amateur astronomers from around the country gathered at the observing facilities of the Minnesota Astronomical Society on a warm July evening. They discuss their observing plans for the night and wait in eager anticipation as the brighter planets start to appear in the fading twilight.
13 July 2018
Eagle Lake Observatory at Baylor Regional Park, Young America MN
Apple iPhone 7+
1/60 @ f/2.8, ISO 1250
13 July 2018
Eagle Lake Observatory at Baylor Regional Park, Young America MN
Apple iPhone 7+
1/60 @ f/2.8, ISO 1250

Milky Way Sails over the Playa
The Milky Way moves slowly across the sky above one of the famous “sailing stones” on Racetrack Playa in Death Valley, an IDA dark sky park. The stones are found at the end of tracks showing their apparent movement across the dried lakebed, the path in this case reflecting the river of light in the sky.
The trails have long been a mystery to geologists, remaining static for years, witness to the daily motions of the stars, before subsequently being found in new positions, with new trails.
The trails have long been a mystery to geologists, remaining static for years, witness to the daily motions of the stars, before subsequently being found in new positions, with new trails.
Not being very familiar with cameras of this type I made quite a few mistakes with film loading and handling, but this one survived. It was taken early on a Saturday, from the Hyland Park area in Bloomington.
The early hour was a characteristic of the comet’s schedule, not mine. Like all the other celestial objects, the comet rises in the east and sets in the west. At this point in its visit, the comet rose at 2:00 am and climbed the sky until the sun rose and washed it out in the dawn. There was a window of a few hours when it was at its photogenic best.
I had wandered around looking for a good viewpoint, and feeling the pressure of the coming dawn, stopped at a parking lot to make the last pictures I could before dawn.
I set up the camera, and since I was not yet sure of what exposures yield good results, I bracketed my shots, taking a series of pictures with increasing exposure times.
In spite of the hour, there always seems to be someone out and about. As I had the shutter open and timing for a 2 minute exposure, a car turned onto the street in front of me and drove past. The headlights flared into the camera lens, a bright beam cut across the view, followed by the red glow of taillights.
I had begun to learn that unexpected events like this don’t necessarily mean that the shot is ruined. I completed the timing, closed the shutter and advanced the film.
On developing the film later, I found the frame where the car drove past. No sign of the car was there! Instead, a white line underscored the silhouetted buildings, and the details of the snowbanks in front of me were visible. It was an interesting effect, but in the end this is the exposure and composition I liked best.
Bloomington MN,
4:00 am 15 March 97.
Kiev-88 80mm f/2.8,
30 second exposure on Tech Pan 120 film