When do you decide from being a spectator to becoming an active participant? When it comes to wildlife, my principle is never (interfere). But there are times which have come close to testing it. This was certainly one of them.
Out at Brooks Falls in Katmai National Park, it was still early in the season. The salmon still hadn't started their upstream migration to their spawning grounds. They were waiting patiently in large numbers at the mouth of the river for some hidden signal that only they knew. The grizzles had just come out of their long winter hibernation, looking both famished and tired. The salmon is a key component of their summer diet, and the ursine population needed every salmon they could get their paws on; it was the only way to recover from the lost reserves.
And so, this year, the grizzlies waited at the same spot they wait every year. They were hoping to catch their break-fast, a feast of juicy salmon. However, with the slow run of the salmon, they just kept waiting in the cold waters of the river, looking sad and forlorn. 634 Popeye ( I think ) was one of them, and every spectator out on the deck felt so sorry for this guy that we all contemplated just feeding him a salmon from the store. Thankfully our better instincts (and a warning from the ranger) prevented us from doing so. So all we could do was just watch nature take its course.
Katmai National Park
AK USA
Last Light
Climbing high above the clouds puts one in a special place, a place where your only concern is survival. It seems like a place removed from the realities of everyday life and humdrum work, of politics and power struggles, and of the pressures of time and place. Out here, you can sit and admire the slow changes in the sky as the sun sets, and of the blue mountain ranges giving way to the twinkling lights of cities far in the horizon.
Eventually, the cold takes over, forcing you to settle in for the long night, but not before capturing one last look.
Mount Adams Wilderness
WA USA
The Beach
This is not the beach from The Beach (2000) starring Leonardo DiCaprio, but this is a beach in the Polynesian island chain. What makes it special is that it is one of the least visited beaches in one of the least visited National Parks. Getting out here was not the easiest trip, but the reward for that effort was this unspoilt beach with a pristine reef right off the beach.
Most folks choose to come to the National Park of the American Samoa to experience a slice of the Polynesian life. Set 2500 mi away from Hawaii, this chain of volcanic islands close to the equator is at the heart of this amazing culture. For some, this is their 63rd (and final) National Park, but for me, it was my 56th. I had sought out this park to experience a land away from the crowds thronging the mainland. And this beach on this remote island is the closest I ever came to it.
National Park of the American Samoa
AS
Skydance
It is rare in the lower 48 states of the USA that one gets to shoot the aurora borealis. And even when it appears, it is not as bright as what you get to see near the Arctic (Alaska, Iceland, Norway etc). And long exposures, and timelapses of the long exposures are probably the best way to visualize the dance of the northern lights.
Here is one such from the recent auroras that appeared through March and April. I hope I get to see more of these next year.
Prosser
WA USA
Music: Bensound
License code: 9HSZBLJQSJMKEODF
Pillars of Heaven
After the aurora storm last Month, I wasn't expecting to see another storm until end of the year. So when the aurora indices were picking up another storm earlier this week, I was certainly surprised. But PNW showed of its true spirit by hiding the entire state under clouds right that night. Thankfully, I spotted an opening in eastern Washington, a good 3+hrs from home.
I weighed my options on whether to make the long journey through the night, and whether the show would be worth sacrificing productivity on Monday. Thankfully, the fore-casted window in the clouds stayed for the most part, and the fore-casted aurora painted the sky with colors. This is one of the many frames I shot while doing a timelapse to capture the dance of the night sky.
Prosser
WA USA
Summer Trails
During the long days of summer, I often find myself heading to this one spot to watch the sun set over the endless mountain ranges. At places like these, I often wonder which trails wander through innumerable valleys and meadows, which ones climb to the mountaintops for panoramic views, and which ones hide my very own wilderness.
Mount Rainier National Park
WA USA
Winter Maladies
I am a sucker for waking up early to catch a winter sunrise. But often, this is the only way to capture angelic trees poking through unspoilt powder glazed in an iridescent hue of blue and purple. I remember this particular winter morning primarily because of how cold the summit was and how beautiful the conditions were. I had also contemplated flying a drone out for some aerial photography, but my fingers were frozen solid within just a few minutes of arriving here.
Mt. Baker Snoqualmie National Forest
WA USA
Summerlands
As much as I try to escape to the south during the long and dark winters of the Pacific Northwest, I can't imagine spending the summers anywhere else. I imagine hiking through beautiful meadows filled with wildflower dancing to the wind, watching colorful sunrises over alpine lakes, climbing up to mountaintops for panoramic views of snow-capped peaks, and enjoying my own wilderness amidst the Cascades. This scene encapsulates what I love about the PNW summers. And while the wildflowers were long gone, the idyllic mountain scenery was still ever-present.
Glacier Peak Wilderness
WA USA
Skydance Live
Northern lights, I realized, is best appreciated as a video. Because the borealis isn't a static fixture in the sky but a dance of light and colors. Closer to the poles, one can experience this dance in real-time, but in the PNW, only timelapses can capture the incredible beauty of the dance.
Here is one such dance. While I regret not spending more time to capture the lights due to the cold, I was glad I was at least able to capture this.
Quincy
WA USA
Lost in the Maelstrom
One of the challenges with winter hiking above the treeline is the impact of ground level fog and clouds that impair visibility. Tracks and ski lines made in the pure white snow disappear into nothingness, while the treeless landscapes feature very few landmarks to mark the direction. I found myself in one such terrain while snowshoeing in Rainier where I had to descend through the clouds. And for many minutes, I was walking in a featureless landscape of alpine white. I found other skiers experiencing the very same predicament that afternoon.
Mount Rainier National Park
WA USA