Archive For The “sky” Category
Kitimat, BC, Tim Horton’s and City Centre Mall, on a summer-like night, Sept. 12, 2013. Samsung Galaxy 3 phone. Vignette app with default Vignette filter (Robin Rowland)
Another gorgeous evening in Kitimat, August 13, sun set lit clouds and the quarter moon setting over Douglas Channel.
Sunset and quarter moon setting over Douglas Channel, Kitimat, Aug. 13, 2013. (Robin Rowland)
Telephoto (200 mm) view of the forest and Kitimat harbour, Aug. 13, 2013. (Robin Rowland)
Another telephoto (200 mm) view of the forest and Kitimat harbour, Aug. 13, 2013. (Robin Rowland)
A bald eagle flies over the water at the east end of Kaien Island just before the Prince Rupert Port Edward turnoff, June 3, 2013. (Robin Rowland)
A bald eagle circles over the mountain on the mainland at the turnoff. (Robin Rowland)
An eagle skims the ocean, hunting for prey. (Robin Rowland)
There were actually a pair of bald eagles that day, so here’s one high up on the thermals (Robin Rowland)
And another shot of the same eagle (Robin Rowland)
And on June 21, a cloudy, rainy day in Kitimat, a bald eagle appears a silhouette against the clouds.
So one of the “rules of photography,” especially nature photography, is you don’t shoot on a clear, bright, blue sky, summer afternoon with the sun high overhead.
So today I broke all those rules and got a shot I’ve been trying to get for some time–the “white raven.”
So what is a “white raven?” One of my long-term projects is to photograph ravens in a “mythological setting.” In Europe (and perhaps elsewhere) there are legends of a white raven. (I am not sure about here on the northwest coast, where the raven is sacred to the First Nations, so far I have not come across any First Nations stories of white ravens. If anyone reading this knows of a First Nation legend of a white raven please comment). For example, in Greek mythology Apollo is said to have turned the raven, which was originally white, to black,
UPDATE: March 2019. Among the art work displayed at the annual Freda Diesing School of Northwest Art exhibit at the Kitimat Museum & Archives this month, was a magnificent painting by a young artist of a raven transforming from white to black. The artist told me she was inspired by a story told to her by Elders.
Although there are rare albino ravens–this site has a photograph of a stuffed albino raven in Port Clements on Haida Gwaii–many scholars who study ravens and crows in nature and mythology believe that the legends of white ravens as messengers of the gods come not from the rare albino raven (which may not survive to adulthood) but when the black feathers of the raven reflect the sun and appear to be white.
I admit that looking for the “white raven” shot wouldn’t be a priority unless you are doing a project on the mythology of ravens. It is also likely that photographers seeing the image would hit the delete button. I hope that this post would discourage deleting “white raven” shots that anyone reading this may capture in the future.
It was that “white raven” effect I was able to capture this afternoon, on a hot, clear, sunny Kitimat afternoon, actually in my front yard in the space of just over one minute, from 3:30:34 pm to 3:31:39 pm, using my carry with me always Sony Alpha 55, Sony 18-200, set at 200, ISO 1600, shutter priority 1/2000.
The pair of ravens are flying into the sun, and the bright reflection can be seen appearing on their wingtips.
As the ravens circle and come more under direct sunlight, their backs reflect the light, appearing white.
Messengers of the Gods. In Norse mythology, Odin had two messenger ravens Huginn and Muninn. Again the Eddas I have read don’t mention the colour of Huginn and Muninn, but clearly you can see how the reflected sun makes the raven look white.
As the pair continue to circle, only a small white reflection is seen on the wing of the lower bird.
Here the pair appear in silhouette, dark against the sky.
The compression of distance with the 200mm lens gives the impression the ravens are flying over a mountain peak.
Then the pair are lower, appearing to fly in front of the mountainside.
On Friday, February 3, 2012, I was driving to Prince Rupert, BC, to cover the No to Tankers rally the next day for GlobalBC News and Canadian Press The drive (or train trip) along the lower Skeena is always magnificent, the mighty water has come through the mountains and now when the river widens.
The Skeena is known is as the “Misty River.” In the language of the Tshimshian First Nation, the river is the “K-shian,” the river of mists.
On that Friday,a high pressure system was driving off the gloomy winter overcast that had lingered since December, while along banks, the mists still clung to the river banks and hills, As the sun set, the light was magnificent, The problem especially with all the snow piled up along the edge of the highway there were few safe places to stop and shoot except the designated rest areas.
The sun sets at the Basalt Creek rest area.
A little earlier, the sunset begins at the Telegraph Point rest area.
The reverse angle, away from the sun set, shows the mist hugging the mountains along the Skeena at Basalt Creek.
Sea smoke rises over the Kitimat, BC, harbour on Jan 19, 2012. (Robin Rowland)
Thursday January 19, 2012 was a frigid day in Kitimat, BC. It was -23 C with a windchill of -38. The warm fresh water from the Kitimat River, flowing into the harbour, was caught between the cold ocean water in the harbour and the frigid air, creating the sea smoke.
Sea smoke blankets Kitimat harbour on a frigid Jan, 19, 2012 (Robin Rowland)
Sea smoke usually hugs the surface of the water. On the morning of January 19, the wind caught the sea smoke, sending columns high into the air.
Columns of sea smoke rise from Kitimat harbour on a frigid January 19, 2012. (Robin Rowland)
At one point, the wind catches the sea smoke, creating a mushroom cloud over Kitimat harbour. (Robin Rowalnd)
The sea smoke drifts across Kitimat harbour.
Sea smoke hugs the Nechako dock at Kitimat, BC, surrounding the tug Smit Cecil and obscuring an empty barge anchored off the dock. (Robin Rowland)
Sea smoke almost hides the Hansa Heavy Lift Ship Venice tied up at the dock. (Robin Rowland)
Another view of sea smoke in Kitimat harbour, the Hansa Heavy Lift Ship Venice with Mt. Elizabeth in the background (Robin Rowland)
Photography is often affected by the weather. A change in the weather can mean as Robbie Burns wrote in 1785, “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an ‘men gang aft agley,” or to quote a more contemporary author, some guy called Murphy, “anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.”
So it was on Saturday night. The main employer in Kitimat, Rio Tinto Alcan, was celebrating a company safety record for the year 2010 and, to include the community, sponsored a fireworks display at the local Riverlodge Community Centre.
It was unlikely that any of my regular clients would want the photos of a corporate event, late on the Pacific coast, with the NHL playoffs and the election taking up most of the feeds and play in the Canadian media. (I did check, they said no.).
So that gave me a chance to try an experiment. Rather than going down to Riverlodge and try to find a good location, I decided to shoot from a park just down from my house, a park with a great view of the mountains. Saturday was clear all day and with a near-full moon coming up in the east at about the time of the fireworks and some fresh spring snow on the peaks, I figured there would be just enough moonlight to illuminate the white snow on the mountain peaks that would be behind the fireworks.
The fireworks were scheduled for 10 PM PT. Wouldn’t you know, about eight o’clock, the clouds began to move in. By the time of the last twilight at ninish, you could see that the peaks were socked in.
I went to the park and got set up. As it got closer to 10, the moon was a barely visible white blob behind heavy clouds, the peaks to the west were invisible in the black night. Overall ground level visibility was good, you could see the lights of the Rio Tinto Alcan smelter kilometres away, but occasional whisps of mist drifted over the tops of the trees of the park.
Had one camera on a tripod, with a 170-500, aimed at the hidden snow-covered peaks (just in case the weather cleared. It didn’t.). Second was hand held, with a 70-300. Not the best situation.
You have to make the best of it.
Got home, checked the computer, threw out most of the images but then I noticed that on some photos, there were some tree tops in front of the fireworks. For some reason, I remembered the closing scene of Return of the Jedi, where the CGI fireworks over the tree tops on the forest moon of Endor celebrate the end of the evil empire. (By the way Canadians, vote on May 2 and vote for democracy).
What I love about photography is that you can always have fun while you are working, especially when things aren’t working out. Make the best shots you can under the conditions of the moment. So for this fun blog I chose images that let me imagine that it was that forest moon and that the evil empire was gone.
The end of the Death Star.
The end of the Death Star.
The celebration
The celebration.
