Photographing the Perseid Meteor Shower from Michigan’s Keweenaw Dark Sky Park

The Perseid Meteor shower peaked Saturday night as the Earth passes through the dust left by the Swift-Tuttle comet. I think I saw more shooting stars, sitting out for the few hours that I did, than the total I have seen for the past decade.

The five shooting stars in this image are from a composite of three 15-second exposures (though the three meteorites on the right hand side were all from the same individual picture).

Also in this picture is an example of “airglow” a phenomenon similar to the Aurora but less intense. Airglow is caused by the steady stream of radiation from the sun and while it is not typically visible to the unaided eye, it shows up in long exposure photos.

Special thanks to the Keweenaw Mountain Lodge, the Keweenaw Dark Sky Park, and Chris Guibert for hosting and organizing a Perseid Meteor Shower Party. There were about 20 Dark Sky enthusiasts and other photographers taking in the meteorite show and hanging out under the stars. It was a lot of fun.

Light Ripples

After a weekend of cloudy skies for the first Upper Peninsula Dark Sky Festival, the universe still taunted us with an amazing Aurora display that was mostly concealed behind a thick layer of clouds. However, that cloud bank stopped about 15 miles (by road…not direct line) from my house. So, we ventured further south to catch the lights of the north (as did about a hundred other people, too - evidenced by the line of lights coming down the bluff in the picture).

One of the things that I love about the Keweenaw is the interesting way nature mixes with remnants of human industrial history. This particular location is the ruins of an old copper mill. It has everything you would expect of an abandoned industrial complex - concrete, rust, broken glass, and graffiti. Juxtaposing all that with a mesmerizing giant solar storm in the atmosphere gives us an interesting perspective on the beauty and the hardship of the universe…and of the Keweenaw.

Light Switches

In all my years, even in my most ridiculous ideas of what my future life would be like, I never imagined that I would own a real, full-size lighthouse that, at one time (at a previous location) provided navigational safety on a waterway. (There’s a long story that goes with this lighthouse…but that is for another time.)

For now, I ponder what I have and what my responsibility with it should be. At its core, this lighthouse is the largest bit of “yard art” (that I know of) in the area. I, for one, don’t like “yard art“ - I prefer to call such signs and kitschy sculptures “junk.” That being said, I admit that I was intrigued…possibly enamored…with the presence of this lighthouse on the property when we were looking to buy.

However, what I can truly say I enjoy about our property is the number and variety of birds I see throughout the seasons. Which, consequently, leads me back to my thoughts about my responsibility in owning this lighthouse…which serves no navigation but has a continually-lit 10-watt LED.

During migration, birds use the stars and the moon for navigation. Research has shown that artificial lights disrupt bird migration. Recommendations from ornithologist are that all unnecessary artificial lights should be turned off during periods of migration. So, I worry that this thing I own, that serves no greater purpose than as a beautiful spot to sit and watch the lake and sunsets, is actually harmful to that which I truly enjoy. Granted, I have never found a dead bird at the base of this lighthouse. However, I know that an absence of evidence is not evidence of absence and it makes me wonder about the unseen impacts this lighthouse has during a very dangerous part of the lives of millions of birds - comprised of more than 250 species that migrate through here at night.

It really wouldn’t take much for me to install a switch. I think it’s time for that.

Sci-Fi Photography Workshop

During our most recent Night Sky Photography Workshop, this one led by Nate Bett with me assisting, I was taking pics of the participants, along the shore of Lake Superior, with the Milky Way overhead during the practical application portion of the workshop. One of the participants decided to leave earlier than everyone else. When I saw that his path of turning his vehicle around was going to cast his headlight beams across every single one of the remaining participants, I quickly started a long exposure in hopes of capturing something interesting. I had no idea that the result would be so “sci-fi.”

The clouds in the sky, the headlight passing through the light Lake Superior fog that was starting to condense, the movement of the participants all came together to make something ethereal and completely beyond what I thought I would capture.