I had a picture I needed to take. Ever felt that? The photo contest was well over, I'd seen a bunch of duplicates where everybody shot the same thing with minor details of variety, and decided I needed to do something in the same category but with a different idea. I'd always been busy with birds with my camera. This needed some study.
So I came up with two ideas, of course. Both are primarily sky photos, and per contest rules, shot in their location, but primarily night shots, or at least night-ish. I'd love to catch lightning over a lake. Any of a dozen different varieties would do, clouds or ground strikes, but with a reflection would be best. Then there was the full moon, again with a lake reflection.
Ahhh, if only the lakes there had layouts that would cooperate. A moon has to be either rising or setting, low enough over the water for a long trail of reflection. That mandates either shooting across some lake west to east, or east to west. I knew the camera would catch it since a couple years ago I'd gotten it perfectly over Lake Mille Lacs when Steve did some night fishing. That full moon was a bonus for me. All I'd planned for was taking care of the dog on shore for a couple or three hours. The camera was for documenting three generations of family out doing the family pastime.
The problem I had for either idea was the lakes in the qualifying area were aligned with their long axis north-to-south. Most of the roads looked over them from the north or south, or the lake surfaces were covered with plants and birds. Lovely, of course, but not helpful for my goals. I returned to the visitor center, got more maps of areas I hadn't yet visited in my years going there, and spent a day exploring new territory. Two lakes looked likely, but one didn't have the right angle allowing close access to the lake. The second was perfect, a boat launch on the west shore and a wide expanse of water before a low ridge of trees on the east.
Now I just need weather and/or the calendar to cooperate. There was a lot of rain all summer, and some thunder showers, but the timing was off or I was otherwise committed or it was too wet and cold. I decided to wait until fall and try for full moons when the skies were otherwise cooperative. Saturday, September 6th was the corn moon. I know, most think of it as the harvest moon, but this year the October full moon rises closer to the fall equinox and gets the honors.
There were issues. All September had been extra cold so far. It kept raining. I stayed busy trapping squirrels, releasing them well away, baiting the traps again, and checking to see what was in them. Mostly not in them as it turned out, but still, 4 seemed like a good start. It was becoming a miserable job, releasing them in the cold rain, but I couldn't leave them stuck in the trap with no shelter. Still, I kept an eye on the calendar and the weather, hoping it would start to warm up as promised and the clouds would clear - which wasn't promised. I checked the times given for sunset and moonrise, and waited, planning, just in case.n
A decision had to be made by a certain time since the location is a fair drive. Even ten minutes before I needed to start preparing, I didn't think I'd go. Another shower had just arrived, but clouds seemed to be getting lighter in the direction I needed to go. Suddenly, BOOM! I decided to go just like that, and Steve, knowing how long I'd been planning, all but kicked me out the door when he heard I was going to do it.
I had barely cleared the driveway when I saw my first shot.
I cross the state line, headed north, and kept an eye on one particular cloud as I got closer. It was an eastward moving storm cloud, fairly compact, sky slowly clearing around it offering hope that it wouldn't block the moon as it rose. The closer I got, the pinker it got, lit by the lowering sun. Small straggling streamers of cloud stayed low in the sky, leaving me to wonder if I'd even see the moon before it got too high for a lake reflection.
To get where I was going, I had to turn west off the highway, or right into the very low sun. Compounding the driving fun, the pavement ended, changing to gravel with puddles along the sides, and shortly full of ground fog covering the details I needed to see to be safe. The sun was directly in my eyes, so I slowed to about 10 mph, fearing I was losing my shot before I got near. Other cars were on the same road, both behind me till they passed, or coming straight towards me out of the sun. Eventually I found my road for my next turn, and finally lost the sun in my eyes. Lots of trees were protecting me from the west side of the road,
However, ground fog was getting heavier, thicker, and hiding several scattered restless deer from my sight until I was right upon them. Fortunately they stayed off the road until I passed, except a doe and fawn which decided - correctly - I was slow enough for them to run across ahead of me. I started to wonder if there would be light by the time I got to the boat landing for my shot. Or worse, once I found the road in, if I couldn't see it clearly enough in advance to avoid scraping my undercarriage along the high ridge between the well worn ruts for the half mile to the lake. I just kept going, musing on whether I was brave or foolish to keep going, just me, only Steve knowing - if he recalled the exact details - precisely where I was going in case of a problem. Not that he could do anything about it.
The sky beckoned, I caught glimpses of the moon, already up and clear of most of the scraggly little strips of grey. The remains of the storm cloud was lit from behind me by the setting sun, lowering in a compact lump of pink. I quickly parked the car, grabbed the camera, and hurried to see what was left to shoot.
There was this...
and this...
And even this:
Of course there are another couple dozen to pick from. I'll decide later. Right now I'm just going to enjoy them, even while continuing to cuss out the dozens of drivers who insist on tailgating me despite heavy ground fog with their piercing blue high beams stabbing my eyeballs for the entire drive back home. But I missed hitting the racoon, I'm safe, and pleased with the night.
Now I just have to see what's going on when the official Harvest Moon rises next month.
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