Winter is coming

Plunging temperatures and low sunlight heralds the arrival of winter in Iceland. And it arrives early this far north, with cold, windy and dry conditions taking over from the blissful and wet summer.

Signs of these changes were everywhere. Waterfalls had an aura of winter all around, puddles and streams on trails became icy, while lakes in the highlands had already started freezing. These conditions make outdoor adventures in Iceland challenging, but offers unique conditions and compositions. This is one of the multitude of falls showcasing its winter sheen.

Kvernufoss
Iceland

A Blast of Red

The geomagnetic storm I witnessed in Iceland on Oct 10 led to perhaps one of the brightest auroral events I had ever witnessed. Even with my eyes blinded by the headlights while driving, I could still see the reds and the pinks in the sky. The splash of color in the sky danced and morphed continuously, highlighting an intensity of storm that was off the charts. A few moments later, when I stopped to take a look, the bulk of the auroral activity was occurring in the southern half of the skies.

I had never seen such bright band of red span across the entire sky from east to west. These colors show up rarely and only during intense storms where the charged solar particles react with Oxygen above 200mi (320km). The typical aurora with green hues occurs from this same reaction occurring at much lower altitudes (60-190mi or 100-300km). This is also why you see the greens band below the reds.

This storm continued for the entire night, though it ebbed and flowed throughout. I was glad I had an opportunity to witness this.

Fjallsárlón
Iceland

Snowdrifts

Looking back at this scene brings sharp memories of the freezing conditions I endured to catch sunrise atop this windswept knoll. I still remember fiddling with my camera with cold numb hands, shivering despite wearing multiple layers, feeling nauseated from the lack of sleep the prior night, and most importantly, of being disappointed after the predicted sunrise did not pan out.

Sometimes these are part and parcel of the experience of the photographer. Even after putting the best effort into getting everything right, it is impossible to predict factors that lie beyond the photographer's control. I have faced many such disappointments, but persevere and shoot despite that.

And on this day, I was glad I continued shooting even after the sunrise didn't pan out, because I allowed me to enjoy the peaceful winter solitude for just a little bit longer.

Mount Tahoma State Forest
WA USA

,

Last of the Fall

,

Its the time of the year that I start working on the photography calendar. I have had plenty of adventures this year yielding many keepers, despite the fact that I was bedridden for about half the year. That said, I had to revisit the archives to get a bit of variety.

That opened up the choices quite a bit more, and I had to make many difficult decisions to keep some and discard others. This was one of those that I had to discard from the 2025 calendar. I still like the image for what it captures: a slice of the fall in the mountains in the North Cascades. Clumps of short blueberry add vibrant reds and oranges to the subalpine meadows in this fragile landscape dominated by glaciated mountain peaks. It lasts but for a very short time, but it leaves an impression like no other.

North Cascades National Park
WA USA

Bruarfoss

It didn't look like much on the map. And even the short walk from the parking lot didn't inspire confidence. But once I got to the wooden bridge straddling the river downstream of the falls, I was taken aback. It wasn't the typical Icelandic waterfall, featuring a tall column of water descending from the lip of hard basalt that you see everywhere. Instead, it was a diffuse waterfall, spreading along a long ledge over which a multitude of streams pour over. Perhaps what was most fascinating was the tiny canyon barely 3m tall and a meter wide that cut its way into the face of the waterfall.

I spent an hour admiring every single detail of the waterfall, from the columnar basalt in the foreground, the faded clumps of orange grass that contrasted with the deep blue water, and the roaring sound of the gushing river.

Bruarfoss
Iceland

,

Larch Madness

,

I missed out the Larch Madness of 2024, for the reason that I was in a completely different continent at the peak of the larch season. Larch madness, so named for the precise and synchronous change of color by the Western larches, whose needles take on a amber hue as the temperatures start to dip in early October. Walking in a larch forest at this time is a surreal experience, with backlit trees exhibiting a golden hue. And since they grow in large clusters, the color is very pronounced both up close and from a distance.

This is one such larch grove at one of my favorite destinations for the larches. I happened to arrive at the right time to capture beautiful reflections at this golden lake in the eastern eaves of the Cascade range.

Okanogan Wenatchee National Forest
WA USA

And the Curtains part

I distinctly remember where I was when I heard about the May 11 G4 geomagnetic storm that would go on to create auroral displays in nearly all the states in the US. It was a slow-moving storm, and that gave enough time to evaluate locations to catch the aurora. This G4 storm earlier this month came with much less warning and lead-time. This fast moving storm would impact earth in just 24 hrs after it was detected. Were I in the US at that time, I would have struggled to find the right location to shoot it, but I happened to be in Iceland at that time. And while October usually results in changing weather patterns, I happened to be just an hour away from locations with 360 views, fairly calm conditions and very little light pollution.

The intensity of the storm was such that, even with my eyes blinded by headlights, the deep red glow was visible as clear as day as the storm was starting to build up. I pulled over, anticipating a sub-storm that would blow up the sky. And it did. As the intensity of the storm peaked, beams of light stretched from the coronal center all the way to the peaks in the horizon. It was as though the curtains of the sky had parted, and brilliant multi-colored light hiding behind the jeweled night sky filtered from the heavens.

The storm would continue for many more hours of that long night, with periods of quiet interlude between sudden showers of light. Nearly a decade since my first aurora, I couldn't believe that I would get to witness such an incredible spectacle so many more times. It was a night I wouldn't forget for a long time.

Kalfafellsstadur
Iceland

Greens of the Palouse

Its that time of the year again when the Palouse gets a glow-up. Brown rolling hills after the winter slowly transform to a resplendent green, both from the winter and spring crops. Colorful barns and grain silos dot the undulating landscape, interrupting the flowing fields of wheat, soy and canola. Yellow crop dusters take to the air to fly sweeping loops over this wavy landscape, spraying fertilizers and pesticides. While it is no organic farming, it certainly is a productive corner of the state.

And photogenic too. The few weeks surrounding this time offer optimal conditions to capture the pastoral landscapes from the high vistas and from the dirt roads that wind through the landscape. Old renovated farmsteads and beautifully restored red barns offer subjects for the detail seekers too.

Here are a few showing the view from up above.

Palouse
WA USA

Rays of Shadow

Watching the sun rise from the summit of a volcano was an tranquil affair, interrupted only by the tumultuous shockwave from a nearby eruption thundering through the air. As the light from the eastern horizon slowly gained intensity, features and undulations slowly became more visible in the haze. Roads and farms formed intricate patterns in the valley that only started to come into light.

As the deep reds slowly turned orange and yellow in the east, the western horizon was still dark under the shadow of earth itself. The moon was the only anchor point steady in the sky as the Belt of Venus slowly arose. What I had not expected to see was the shadow of the volcano itself projected onto a neat triangular point into the west. Surprisingly, this shadow, and the accompany rays of darkness only became visible after the sun rose. I admired the distance to which this shadow was projected, and how long it actually lasted.

This image portrays the summit of the volcano at sunrise.

Volcan Acatenango
Guatemala

Light of the night

The mother of all solar storms slammed the planet on May 9th. I even briefly observed the Kp scale going down to an unheard level of Kp9. The strength of the storm was 4x of the typical that I had witness in the PNW in the past. And it wasn't just one event, it was a train of half a dozen storms that impinged the planet in that timeframe. And during the height of these impacts, the auroral displays were observed as far south as Mexico, Austria and India, and as far north as Australia.

The internet has been flooded with plenty of images of this event over the past few days. Here is my contribution to this, an example of how the faint glow in the sky was really a dazzling spectrum of colors that arced all over.

North Cascades National Park
WA USA