Photo Essay

10 Pictures, 10 Tales: Our Favorite Night Photos of 2021

2021 was a challenging year for all. But the overall themes that prevailed were hope and celebration, as many of us could finally rejoin the great outdoors with friends and family. At National Parks at Night, we were so thrilled to see our community in-person and to share sacred spaces under the stars.

Now, at the end of 2021, as in the past we look back on our year’s worth of images and note the ones that are most precious to us. Choosing your favorite photos can be a daunting project. What makes a 5-star image? Is it the technical work that went into creating it? Or the reminder of a very special night? Which photographs still continue to shine and what new gems have been uncovered?

As you read about each National Parks at Night instructor’s favorite two photographs of the year, the underlining theme is that each had the power to transport us back to that precise moment in time. The feelings that come rushing back can be a combination of everything that aligned to create the image. It transports us back and hopefully takes you on a similar journey.


Chris Nicholson

Stars Over Zumwalt Meadows, Kings Canyon National Park

Nikon D5 with a Nikon 14-24mm f/2.8 lens. Two blended exposures shot at 30 seconds, f/5.6, ISO 400 (foreground) and 20 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 8000 (sky).

When I was writing my book Photographing National Parks a few years back, I spent a lot of time in coffee shops in Queens, New York, where I lived at the time—as well as in coffee shops in my hometown in Connecticut and in other places I traveled—researching and writing about various places, including some I’d never been to. I recall writing about fantastical-sounding spots such as Cinder Cone in Lassen Volcanic National Park, and Grand View Point in Canyonlands, and Artist Point in North Cascades, and hoping that someday I’d get to visit them.

In the following years I was fortunate that my book carried me to these places and more. On multiple occasions I’ve stood gazing at grand vistas, thinking back to my days leaning over my laptop in some random Starbucks learning and writing about these places, and marveling at the journey that brought me to be there in person.

Another such place was Zumwalt Meadow in Kings Canyon National Park, which I wrote about sometime around 2013 and finally was able to visit in 2021. From my book: “Zumwalt Meadow is easy to hike to and around, and is pleasant to photograph, as well. The meadow sits on the valley floor, with lush greenery providing a softer aesthetic than found in most other areas of the park. The Kings River flows through the grasses, framed by the distinctive granite walls of Grand Sentinel and North Dome.”

Zumwalt sits near the end of the furthest mile of paved road in Kings Canyon. Lance and I ventured out there, scrambled about 30 feet up some talus, set up our tripods for a dusk foreground exposure, then waited under a peaceful, spectacular night sky for a starry background exposure.

For a long time I sat on a boulder, just watching this beautiful space on Earth roll into darkness, once again remembering where I’d been and feeling grateful for where I’d come.

Tuolumne River and Meadows, Yosemite National Park

Nikon D5 with an Irix 11mm f/4 lens. Two blended exposures shot at 4 minutes, f/4, ISO 2000 (foreground) and 25 seconds, f/4, ISO 8000 (sky).

My next favorite photo from 2021 is also a blue hour blend, which isn’t much of a coincidence because it’s a technique I deliberately tried to employ more during the year.

This time I was in Tuolumne Meadows in Yosemite National Park. It’s a beautiful location in the High Sierra region of the park—an area that for many visitors is practically ignored in favor of the oft-visited valley.

At 8,600 feet, Tuolumne is one of the highest-elevation meadows in the Sierra Nevada. The Tuolumne River quietly bisects the glacier-carved meadow, meandering among erratics and past scattered lodgepole and Jeffrey pines, supporting a teeming riparian ecosystem that’s practically an oasis in the beautiful yet rugged and vast sub-alpine landscape.

I was again with Lance, and we hiked into the meadow to a beautiful view of the Tuolumne River flowing toward the distant mountains. The moon was new, so I knew the landscape would be completely dark once twilight was over. Phrased another way, it was a perfect situation for a blue hour blend.

I set up my tripod and used the ultrawide Irix 11mm f/4 lens to fill the foreground with the river. I made a few exposures during dusk, then left the setup while heading off to shoot with a second camera for awhile. I came back once the stars were shining, and made several exposures over the course of an hour or so, capturing the Milky Way in different spots as it drifted along the horizon. I later composited two of the frames in Photoshop to create the final image.

Gabriel Biderman

Officer’s Row, Sandy Hook

Nikon Z 6 with a Nikon Z 24-70mm f/4 lens at 24mm. 30 seconds, f/11, ISO 1600.

My new year’s resolution for 2021 was a simple one: to get out more at night and photograph! I live in Brooklyn, New York, and spent most of 2020 indoors; I didn’t travel farther than my Vepsa could take me.

So in early January my wife and I decided to spend a weekend with a good friend of ours in New Jersey, right outside Sandy Hook. Part of Gateway National Recreation Area, Sandy Hook is a very popular spot in the warmer months, but in the winter when the temperature is below 20 F, not so much.

For the two nights I poked around with my camera, I was bundled up like an Arctic explorer. Everyone thought I was crazy for going out, but I would not be daunted. This was the first national park I had stepped into in over a year, and I was energized!

Officer’s Row is one of the most scenic spots at Sandy Hook, especially for the brilliant sunsets that light up the sky. I tried a variety of focal lengths, cropping in tight to one, three or five houses. It was nice, but almost too simple. I continued to move back to include more buildings and then I realized that the trees at the other end of the field stood in a row similar to the homes. By adding the trees, it created the perfect foreground to give a better sense of place. Officer’s Row is not just the homes they lived in, but the field where military folk played with their families.

It was a cold and lonely experience, but one that jump-started my 2021 relationship with national parks at night.

Reacquainted with the Night, Joshua Tree National Park

Sony a7S III with a Sony FE 12-24mm f/2.8 lens at 18mm. 13 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 6400.

I was thrilled to have my first road trip of the year be to a familiar and always inspirational place, Joshua Tree National Park. I was also excited to be sharing the experience with my good friend and co-teacher, Matt Hill. We both packed our kitchen sinks for what would end up being a 3-week road trip. Not only did I bring trackers, tripods and time-lapse devices, but I also borrowed every Sony A7 and A9 camera and most of their wide and fast glass.

Matt and I had 3 days to scout and enjoy the night skies as we prepared for an upcoming workshop. But with so much gear, I got stuck in “testing” mode and created very few images for myself.

After the workshop we stayed an extra night to team with Chris and Tim to record our OPTIC Imaging Conference presentation for B&H Photo. That was a long, focused night that required the four of us to play multiple roles from creative to producer and grip!

During a break in the filming Matt went to lay on one of Joshua Tree’s many boulders. He was exhausted and needed to re-energize by taking a few moments to be one with the stars.

I immediately took one of our Luxli Fiddle LED panels and boomed it up and over him. I love the spotlight effect that made it seem like Matt was bathing in the moonlight. For the camera, I chose a low angle to create a new horizon line that makes it seem like Matt is floating on a wave of rocks.

This could be one of my favorite night portraits I have ever made, because to me Matt is experiencing something I have done and that we all need to remember: Take a break under the stars and get reacquainted with the night.

Lance Keimig

Julie at Bass Harbor

Nikon D780 with a Tamron 15-30mm f/2.8 lens at 29mm. Six composited frames exposed at a range of 2 to 30 seconds, f/5.6, ISO 100.

This image was made more or less as a grab shot as the last twilight was fading at Bass Harbor, Maine, during our PhotoPills workshop in Acadia National Park.

We had arrived just as the light was fading, and by the time the group dispersed and got to work, it was too late to get it all in one exposure. Not to be deterred, I did a six-frame bracket at 1-stop intervals. I was struck by the scene, and even in the fading twilight the light was gorgeous. Our workshop participant Julie had set up on the pier, and at first I was bummed that she was in my frame, but in the end I think that she adds to the image.

I’m attracted to the cool blue colors punctuated with one sodium vapor streetlight and a few warm lights in the houses, plus the stillness and the simple architectural shape of the shack on the pier. Julie adds another element, and marks the context for my memory.

To me, it’s a great example of how a photograph has the power to transport me to a different place and time. As I sit here typing on a cold December evening in Vermont, I’m taken back to coastal Maine in the height of summer, and all of the places spent over the course of a week with a fine group of people making images. It’s personal, and I like that. The viewer will make whatever they want or nothing at all of the image, but for me it is a place-keeper for a boatload of memories.

Tanguy Key

Nikon D750 with a Nikon 28mm PC f/3.5 lens. 15 seconds, f/5.6, ISO 6400.

After completing our Everglades National Park workshop in April, Chris and I took a couple of days to explore the Florida Keys. I am so out of my element in Florida. Culturally, geographically, meteorologically, Florida is just not in my wheelhouse. I admit, after a long New England winter it was nice to be wearing shorts and a Hawaiian shirt while those at home were still wearing down jackets, but still …

The drive from the Everglades into the Middle Keys took longer than we had anticipated, and longer than Google had promised, and the night-photo opps visible from the main drag were few and far between. I didn’t mind; I was just along for the ride and happy to experience this strange new environment.

This image was made at the foot of one of the causeways that connects the keys, where the setting comprised a vast expanse of sea and sky punctuated with sticks and stones and various synthetic detritus. The tropical colors and minimalist landscape reminded me of the French surrealist painter Yves Tanguy, and I made several compositions that night in his honor that had a similar feel.

I’m smitten with this composition—the repeating shapes of the stones, the sticks, the horizon and the wires, and the graduated turquoise hues of water fading into sky all work together to make this one of my surprise greatest hits of 2021.

Matt Hill

White Pocket

Nikon Z 6 with an Irix Cine 11mm T4.3 lens, lit with a Luxli Fiddle. Eleven frames shot at 20 seconds, T4.3, ISO 12800, stitched in PTGui and post-processed in Lightroom.

Until this year, one of my bucket list experiences was an overnight at White Pocket in the Vermillion Cliffs National Monument of northern Arizona. Boy am I lucky to have scratched this one off the list!

This location is on BLM land, and you can camp there overnight without a permit. If planning a visit, always check ahead of time, as it’s a major commitment to drive out there (in deep, deep sand). You might also consider hiring a local guide, like we did. They provided camp gear and food, and we drove ourselves in a high-clearance vehicle.

All disclaimers aside, this area is precious, wild, remote and located in dark, dark skies. Being there seems like being on the surface of another planet. The various colors and textures of rock are mesmerizing, and a joy to light paint.

I had been imagining this pano for years. Ever since my first daytime-only visit I’d been wanting to photograph the Vortex and Castle Rock paired with a low Milky Way.

When the chance finally came, I was with Gabe and we interpreted this scene in different ways. But we both had our tripod legs on the precipice of the Vortex, which dips down much more precariously than this image suggests.

The final pano is a PTGui blend of 11 images made from an ultrawide 11mm Irix Cine lens, in vertical orientation. As usual, I aggressively overlapped the images for a seamless stitch. I shot at ISO 12,800 to balance out the native T4.3 maximum aperture. And each 20-second exposure was halfway between Accurate and Default NPF exposure durations for crispy star points.

Lighting the monumental landform was tricky. I used a Luxli Fiddle to bounce light off the stone wall behind us—literally the only option as my angle of view exceeded 200 degrees.

This now hangs on my wall as a 72-inch Xposer print.

Bethesda Fountain, Central Park

Nikon Z 6II with a Nikon Z 24-70mm f/2.8 S lens at 34mm, lit with two Coast HP7R flashlights. 60 seconds, f/6.3, ISO 100.

During our New York City workshop with Gabe, it felt great to get back to my roots. Gabe and I had met and fostered our friendship over night photography in NYC, so returning to the noise and a cacophony of light sources was quite satisfying.

Bethesda Fountain is an icon within the world-famous Central Park. This was not my first time shooting here, but it was certainly the best lighting I’ve ever had. And that was due to teamwork!

Gabe and I placed our flashlights on the fountain’s edge to add sparkle to the gilded statuary. The light also filled in the dark areas in the water and under the body of the fountain. We placed the first light slightly left of camera, the second perpendicular and to the right. The result is, for me, a strong example of well-defined portrait lighting.

Of particular challenge was defining the falling water. The camera did capture all the info I needed, but some post-processing magic in Lightroom was required to render this version. Applying a Select Subject mask allowed me to control the highlights and contrast in the water. I added a Select Sky mask to darken the sky, and increased contrast. Finally, I darkened the bright clouds low to the horizon with a brush mask and emphasized the paths of the water cascading down to the final raised pool.

What you don’t see was the most “New York Moment” of all: the half-naked man collecting change from the bottom of the fountain during this exposure. Ah, New York, how I love you.

Tim Cooper

Desert Light, Joshua Tree National Park

Nikon Z 6II with a Nikon Z 12-24mm f/2.8 lens at 24mm. Multiple blended exposures of 30 seconds, f/8, ISO 1600 (foreground) and 15 minutes, f/8, ISO 100 (sky).

With its amazing array of rock formations, desert flora and pure night skies, Joshua Tree National Park is a night photographer's paradise. I was fortunate enough to be there for the near simultaneous events of our PhotoPills workshop and our video production for B&H’s OPTIC Imaging conference.

While scouting, Chris showed me this narrow defile near Skull Rock and I knew it was not only a great spot for our PhotoPills workshop but also a perfect spot for me to do a light painting demo for the conference. The shoot was, however, going to be a challenge.

When first entering the narrow gorge I saw the desert scrub plant wedged between the rounded rocks and knew I wanted to backlight the plant so it would anchor the foreground and highlight the texture in the rock formations.

The first problem was that there was no way one exposure would give me enough time to light paint the foreground and the background. The second problem was that I was so close to foreground rocks that even an aperture of f/16 would not provide perfect sharpness throughout the scene. So I decided to break up the scene into several exposures.

On the first exposure I focused on the foreground rocks and painted from behind to bring out the texture and to backlight the scrub plant. On the second exposure I refocused on the middle ground and walked through the scene while illuminating the walls of the gorge. The light on the far peak was supplied by passing cars.

After many practice runs and several failed attempts I was finally able to light the entire scene as I’d imagined it. For the final exposure I focused on the sky to create the trailing stars.

While the bulk of time creating this image occurred in the field, I also spent a significant amount of time post-processing. The same scene taken with different focus points results in small changes to the size of the subjects within the scene. This means that I had to resize each frame in Photoshop so that all of the rocks were the same size in the final image. Then each frame had to be blended together to create the illusion of continuous lighting. The easiest part was blending the star trails with the foreground.

While many night images can be made with a single exposure, sometimes it's easy to envision a shot that requires a lot more work. I’m glad I took on this particular challenge as it turned out to be one of my favorite images of 2021.

Star Trails, Valley View, Yosemite National Park

Nikon Z 6II with a Nikon Z 12-24mm f/2.8 lens at 14mm. Foreground: three focus-stacked blue-hour images shot at 15 seconds, f/5, ISO 100. Sky: three exposures shot at 5 minutes, f/3.5, ISO 500.

Of the millions of photographs made in Yosemite National Park, some of my favorites are from the Valley View pull-off. The ever-changing volume of the Merced River revealing, hiding and reshaping the river's edge directly below the parking area has been fodder for an abundance of magical photographs. I was determined to add to that collection, hoping for an image that captured this view with the stars of the night sky.

My chance finally came in October when Matt and I led a group of night photographers for a workshop in Yosemite Valley. During our initial scout I was disappointed to find that the river had become so low from California's ongoing drought that this particular vantage point left much to be desired.

As luck would have it, our group experienced the break in California’s dry spell to a tune of over 6 inches of rain in less than 2 days. The aftermath of the rainfall was truly magical as all of the waterfalls were rejuvenated and the rivers sprung back to life.

After shuffling the schedule around a bit due to the rain, we were able to venture to the Valley View pull-off to begin a night of shooting. The swollen river produced a far more interesting foreground as it created new channels and connected the recently dried grass tussocks with the flow of the water.

Setting up near several of the workshop participants, we worked through the blue hour exposures (with focus stacking to accommodate the extreme depth of the scene) and waited for astronomical twilight to end.

Simply waiting and watching as the glow faded from the mountains was worth the whole excursion. After the show of color ended and we counted the lights of the climbers making camp on the vertical cliffs, darkness finally fell and we began our sky exposures. I chose to create star trails via a stack of three 5-minute exposures in the hopes of creating motion in the sky that would echo that of the river and that implied a mirror of the motion of the foreground grasses.


Your Turn

What was your favorite night photograph of 2021? We’d love to see it! Share in the comments below, or on our Facebook page, or on Instagram (tag us @nationalparksatnight #nationalparksatnight #seizethenight). Be sure to tell a story too—the technical aspects, the challenge overcome, or a tale of the experience.

Then … have a Happy New Year!

Gabriel Biderman is a partner and workshop leader with National Parks at Night. He is a Brooklyn-based fine art and travel photographer, and author of Night Photography: From Snapshots to Great Shots (Peachpit, 2014). During the daytime hours you'll often find Gabe at one of many photo events around the world working for B&H Photo’s road marketing team. See his portfolio and workshop lineup at www.ruinism.com.

UPCOMING WORKSHOPS FROM NATIONAL PARKS AT NIGHT

From Shadows of the Past: 5 Photos of Ghost Towns at Night

Fall has fallen upon the land, Halloween is upon us, and with it come ghosts from the shadows. Well, maybe. But in some shadows of the country we can certainly find ghost towns, which happen to be among night photographers’ favorite haunts.

Ghost towns certainly allure us, for many reasons: historical significance, yesteryear charm, their ethereal memories that linger in shadows. And of course, they just look really cool, especially when darkness falls.

Below, in celebration of Halloween week, we present five photographs of ghost towns and short stories about how we made them.

Bodie

by Lance Keimig

Bodie, California. Canon 5D with a Nikon 28mm f/3.5 PC lens, lit with a Surefire 9P flashlight. 159 seconds, f/8, ISO 160.

A former gold rush town nestled in the unforgiving hills near the California-Nevada border, at its peak Bodie was home to over 10,000 residents. It was the archetypal western boomtown, replete with brothels and saloons, and with men dreaming of making it big and others intent on exploiting them. A legendary young girl’s diary found in the town stated, “Goodbye God, I’m going to Bodie.” Or was it, “Good, by God I’m going to Bodie”? We’re not really sure, but either sentiment could apply, depending on her disposition.

This light-painted image of the undertaker’s shop from 2008 was made with the lens pressed against a dirty window, and was lit with a Surefire incandescent flashlight from the left and right by shining the light through a window on one end of the building and through a door at the other.

Sadly, the table supporting the white coffin collapsed in an earthquake in 2020, and the contents of the building were badly damaged. The caretakers at Bodie have a policy of preserving what they can but not restoring structures that deteriorate or are damaged by natural causes, so I’m glad that I made this image when I had the chance.

Mojave

by Matt Hill

Mojave National Preserve, California. Sony Alpha a7 III with a Zeiss Batis 18mm f/2.8 lens, lit with a Nanlite PavoTube 15C 2' LED tube. 13 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 3200.

I was lucky, and very grateful, to spend time with photographer and Night Photo Summit speaker Jess Santos in California’s Mojave National Preserve. In her Jeep, we visited some of her favorite off-map and abandoned places.

Mojave is a special, though not frequently visited, place. In fact, that it’s not more visited is surely part of what makes it so special. Mojave is also a light painter’s dream. It’s an old mining area, and still contains remnant machinery, abandoned houses, sandblasted cars and trucks and vans slowly disintegrating in the dry heat.

This well-preserved bus is jacked up level on the low end (pretty high in the air!), and it looks like it’s on a permanent adventure. I used a single light source to illuminate the bus during the 13-second exposure. I started farthest away from the camera, blasted the 2-foot LED tube light through the doors, then walked along the side with the light held high to illuminate the dark interior.

Combined with strong moonlight, the warm/cool blending of light sources created exactly the look I was going for.

Silver City

by Gabriel Biderman

Silver City, California. Nikon D700 with a Zeiss Milvus 21mm f/2.8 ZF.2 lens, lit with a Coast flashlight. 4 minutes, f/5.6, ISO 400.

A lot of the ghost towns we visit are part of national parks or just outside of them and fairly easy to access. But many more are long forgotten and hidden from the public.

The year was 2011. I was on an epic road trip with fellow night photographers Joe Reifer and Night Photo Summit speaker Troy Paiva. We were right outside the vibrant “ghost town” of Virginia City, Nevada, when we found what looked to be the remains of an old silver mine in the satellite view of Google Maps. We drove over to investigate, but blocking the entrance was an impressive “No Trespassing” gate. 

While pondering our next move, we noticed a Willie Nelson-looking fella in a sawed-off Jeep driving quickly down the road with a dog barking and running alongside. 

We explained that we were night photographers, and fortunately Troy had one of his books to show that we were passionate about photographing Americana ruins. Somehow we won over the caretaker named Irish, and he invited us to spend two nights shooting the mines of Silver City.

My favorite shot from this wonderful experience is this slice of a corrugated bridge that was connected to the hoist house.

Grafton

by Tim Cooper

Grafton, Utah. Nikon D700 with a Nikon 24mm f/2.8 lens, lit with a Coast HP5R flashlight. 1 minute, f/9, ISO 200.

Near Utah’s Zion National Park sits Grafton, one of the most photographed of the western ghost towns.

From an artistic standpoint, this image is kind of spooky. Exactly what I was going for.

From a technical standpoint, this image is about color unity. I wanted to create a cool color harmony, which would provoke that spooky feeling.

The landscape was being illuminated by a full moon. I set my white balance to 4000 K. Images made under a full moon can often look like they were shot in daylight, so lowering the white balance to 4000 K helps keep the impression of a night scene.

A setting of 4000 K renders my Coast HP5R only somewhat blue, but I wanted even more blue, to match the coolness of the ambient light. So I added a light blue gel to the front of the flashlight, which also helped to retain color harmony throughout the image.

Thurmond

by Chris Nicholson

Thurmond, New River Gorge National Park, West Virginia. Nikon D5 with a Nikon 14-24mm f/2.8 lens. Two stacked exposures at 1 and 4 seconds, f/5.6, ISO 400.

The newest national park in the United States, New River Gorge in West Virginia, has some of the country’s oldest stuff, from one of the oldest rivers in the world to some great abandoned places, such as the ghost town of Thurmond.

A hundred years ago Thurmond was a booming mining town situated aside the New River. The area mines were so productive that Thurmond was reputed to be one of the most prosperous stops on the railroad with the richest banks in the state.

Today the mines are closed and the town is all but abandoned. But the railroad still runs through and the bank still stands aside it, as do 20 other dusty buildings, including the post office, coaling tower and train depot.

In this photo, a streetlight illuminates the old National Bank of Thurmond, as well as the tracks and a little surprise (ghostly?) visitor who wafted into the scene. Two exposures were required: one to control the bright lamp, and a second to record the details of the bank and railroad bed.

Your Turn

What ghost towns have you photographed at night? We’d love to see! Feel free to post your take on this shadowy genre in the comments, on our Facebook page or on Instagram (tag us @nationalparksatnight and/or hashtag us #nationalparksatnight).

Chris Nicholson is a partner and workshop leader with National Parks at Night, and author of Photographing National Parks (Sidelight Books, 2015). Learn more about national parks as photography destinations, subscribe to Chris' free e-newsletter, and more at www.PhotographingNationalParks.com.

UPCOMING WORKSHOPS FROM NATIONAL PARKS AT NIGHT

10 Silver Linings: Our Favorite Night Photographs of 2020

If you were to wrap up everything that was 2020 into a single long-exposure frame, I’m confident it would be overexposed. (Too soon?)

But that’s not how we do it around here. We take our time. We are choosy. We are deliberate. We expose for the shadows, yet retain critical details in the highlights. We exercise the right to turn our tripod around 180 degrees and shoot the other way. Why? Because the next best shot is somewhere near the infinite focal point of our lives: night photography. 

Now we embark on the hardest quest of the year: to each choose only two frames to represent our favorite creative photographs from of 2020. Please enjoy the highlights from each of our agonizing selection processes. Keep in mind, we (mostly) love all of our photos. But these rose to the top.


Chris Nicholson

Comet Neowise, Monhegan Island

Comet Neowise, Monhegan Island, Maine. Nikon D5 with a Nikon 24-70mm f/2.8 lens. 5 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 25,600; 16 images stacked in Sequator.

One of the nice surprises of 2020 was Comet Neowise. It was a gift to anyone who had been longing to be outside under night skies again, especially photographers. It first appeared at night at the beginning of our July workshop in the Mid-Coast region of Maine, and it really started to shine during our subsequent workshop on Monhegan Island and in Acadia National Park.

It was on Monhegan that I made this image. Lance and I had been shooting on the island for two nights alone, then two nights with the group. On the last of those evenings, in the extra-late hours, I found myself alone on an extra-quiet trail along the rocky shore. I came upon this house and cottage, with the comet nestled quietly in between.

What I didn’t see through the dimly lit window was the perfectly framed head of someone sleeping on a pillow. That detail became apparent only when viewing the long exposure on my laptop display the next morning. Sometimes surprises make the image, and for me that was certainly the case here. Aesthetically I had liked the photograph before, but once I saw the sleeper, I loved it.

The open window and the sleeping would-be stargazer under the comet-adorned night sky all combine to tell the tale of what it felt like to be outside and at peace again.

Moon Over Mobius

Moon over Mobius Arch, Alabama Hills National Scenic Area, California. Nikon D5 with an Irix 11mm f/4 lens, light painted with a Luxli Viola. 20 seconds, f/8, ISO 3200.

In October I was finally able to visit and photograph Alabama Hills—a place I’d seen many photographs of, as Lance, Tim and Gabe have shot there plenty.

Night photographers are of course drawn to rock formations, and Alabama Hills offers a nearly infinite supply of them. Perhaps the most famous, especially for photographers, is Mobius Arch. The day I photographed it was (and still is) the only day I’ve been there, but I was able to shoot it in amazing late-afternoon light, and later in serene moonlight. Yet those two opportunities were hours and hours apart.

I’d spent most of the evening helping workshop participants in other spots, ranging from right next to the cars in the parking lot (where folks were shooting star-panos of the mountain range that flanks the boulder-strewn landscape) to locations far and off the trail (where others were shooting star circles over that same landscape). Only at the end of the night did I return to Mobius, with the last two participants alongside. The three of us worked quietly together, each honed on our own ideas of how to interpret the scene.

I worked on this particular take for about 20 minutes. I already knew the exposure and the light painting approach from previous takes. The trick, though, was following the moon as it set behind Mobius, inching the tripod along the ground, keeping la luna framed right at the edge of the arch from one exposure to the next, until I finally captured what I was hoping for.

Gabriel Biderman

Utakleiv Beach, Lofoten

Utakleiv Beach, Lofoten. Nikon Z 6 with a Nikon Z 14-30mm f/4 lens at 17mm. 8 seconds, f/4, ISO 12,800.

I feel very blessed to have gone to such a special place as Norway prior to the world turning upside down.

Lofoten was an epic experience, but our nights were tricky. Clouds and snow were our constant companions. We kept an eye on the weather and the Kp index to try to predict our best chance at capturing the northern lights.

Finally we saw a good report. The forecast for the elusive aurora opening was going to be from 8 to 9 p.m.—a narrow window before the clouds would roll back in.

We knew the perfect place to go: Uttakleiv Beach. We had spent a day at Uttakleiv earlier in the trip, so we were familiar with the terrain. It has seaside mountains to give scale and water to reflect the night sky.

I’ve never seen a weather forecast be so on point. When we arrived, the overcast skies made the situation seem like a bust. But at 8:00 on the dot, the skies cleared and the magical green lights started their dance. For most of our group, this was the first time witnessing auroras, but to be honest, even for the experienced, this night was pretty special.

For one hour we danced with the northern lights, aiming our cameras as the auroras moved along the purple skies. It was truly magical. And it lasted, as predicted, for one hour. For all of us who shared a night under the northern lights, we’ll carry the experience forever.

Summit Bridge, Red Hook

Summit Bridge, Red Hook. Mamiya 7 with a Mamiya 65mm f/4 lens. 30 seconds, f/8, ISO 100 (Fujifilm Acros II).

Upon returning from Norway, my “adventures” consisted of my apartment in Brooklyn and the surrounding areas. As frustrating as it was not to be under the stars of our national parks, I fell back in love with my “backyard” and film.

I live in Carroll Gardens in Brooklyn. It is a quaint neighborhood where everyone is proud of their front garden. I battled my stir craziness during the pandemic by taking night walks in the neighborhood. I dusted off one of my favorite film cameras—my medium format Mamiya 7—and got back to the basics of shooting film. Brighter urban lights make film exposures fairly easy to determine. 2020 also welcomed the return of Fujifilm’s Acros 100 (now II), which has the least reciprocity of any film on the market and makes long exposure film shots relatively easy.

My walks would often lead me to neighboring Red Hook, which features a mixture of industrial buildings, wharfs, cobblestone streets and old-school residential homes.

Summit Bridge, a small bridge that takes pedestrians up and over the Brooklyn Queens Expressway, unites our two neighborhoods. I’ve walked over it a thousand times, but this time all the elements of the scene clicked for me. I saw lines leading up to the beacon of light. Heck, there were lines galore! The lines of the steps connected with the lines of the rails, which intersected with the lines of the spear-headed fence, and the light reflecting on the brick building also leads the eye to the fence, which all leads back to the focal-point light.

I shot this just two weeks ago. The image is a perfect bookend for a year that started in a distant archipelago and ended very close to home.

Lance Keimig

Portland, Oregon

Portland, Oregon. Nikon D780 with a PC-E Nikkor 28mm f/3.5 lens. 8 seconds, f/8, ISO 100.

Probably like most people, 2020 was not my most productive year, photographically or otherwise. All in all, I count myself lucky though. We managed to hold a few workshops, stay healthy, and fill most of our 2021 workshops and tours. The at-home stress test with my partner Katherine only brought us closer together, despite both of us dealing with ongoing family crises. I’m coming out of this horrible year in better shape than a lot of people, and am grateful for it. Creatively, the year is a write-off, and that’s OK, all things considered.

Katherine and I went to Portland, Oregan, to help celebrate a friend’s birthday in late February, just as the COVID-19 scare was beginning. While there we got together with another old friend who took us out night-shooting in an industrial area that just happened to be near a brewery that Gabe said Katherine and I had to visit. (We did.)

One of the things I came to realize in this truncated year was that I really miss urban night photography. It’s where I started, and I plan to get back to it in a big way when COVID subsides.

This image might not have a lot of appeal to most people, but I love the simplicity of it. The repeating shapes, the backlighting, the shadows, the minimal colors. It’s the kind of image I used to make all of the time, and want to make again. I guess that I also like it because it represents the last moments of freedom before we were all overwhelmed by the pandemic.

Acadia National Park

Eagle Lake panorama, Acadia National Park, Maine. Nikon D750 with a Sigma 24mm f/1.4 Art lens. Five stitched images shot at 15 seconds, f/2, ISO 6400.

Chris and I were joking that I’d be submitting Comet Neowise images as obvious favorites, because that’s pretty much the last time I took a night photograph. I do have a couple of decent comet photos, but it was this pano of Eagle Lake in Acadia National Park (made during the comet’s peak) that I chose to share here. Many of you know that Acadia is one of Chris’ favorite parks, and I was very happy to have been able to spend some time with him there this summer as part of the two back-to-back workshops we somehow managed to pull off in Maine in July.

I’m generally not a landscape photographer, nor a big Milky Way shooter, but this was such a gorgeous scene, and such a peaceful place to be in such a calamitous time, that the memories of being there that this image brings back make it my second pick for my favorite images of the year.

I’m thinking now how snapshots to the non-photographer serve mainly as memory triggers to take one back to a time and place from the past. I guess the same can be true for professional photographers too, as that’s what this image does for me. It’s a bookmark in time, in this case for a brief reprieve from the nonstop barrage of bad news that was 2020. But—this year is coming to an end, and if we are diligent, and a bit lucky, as we round the corner into 2021, things will start to brighten, and new opportunities will await. I’m ready for them.

Matt Hill

Lance on the Racetrack

Lance Keimig on Racetrack Playa, Death Valley National Park. Nikon Z 6 with a Venus Optics Laowa 15mm f/2 FE Zero-D lens. 20 seconds, f/5.6, ISO 1600.

If I could sum up 2020 with one image, it would be this pensive portrait of Lance on Racetrack Playa in Death Valley National Park.

That workshop seemed to be foreshadowing the year ahead of us. We were plagued with adversities. From sand storms to power outages to a scarcity of fresh food, only tenacity on everyone’s part brought us to a successful end. This included our alumni, the workshop leaders and the surprise guests (Gabe and Tim).

My consideration of this image includes the crisp starry sky, the crusty playa and the soft memory of where Lance lingered, considering what occupied his attention at that moment. In the distance you can see other people forming their own relationship with the night sky. Plus, the sign of perhaps other strangers arriving or departing in the car trail on the far side.

2020 will hopefully fade into insubstantiality as this instance of Lance’s pondering did. But hopefully the tenacity and lessons we bring with us will have a more permanent home in our decision-making process.

It’s my wish that we will employ more empathy. Take a little more time to consider the perspective that distance from “normal” offers. And to take the hope one can find in this and apply it to making the things we find important thrive.

Molly Diptych

Diptych of Molly on the Hudson River. Nikon Z 6 with a Venus Optics Laowa 15mm f/2 FE Zero-D lens, lit with a LumoPro LP180 speedlight and a Nanlite Pavotube II 6C. Left: 10 seconds, f/4, ISO 3200; right: 6 seconds, f/3.5, ISO 100.

If you could truly render your perception of another being into a descriptive portrait, how would you approach executing it? I ask myself this before many portrait shoots.

This particular diptych of night portraits was the culmination of something I hold very dear: the opportunity to collaborate with other creative people. Such as the subject of these portraits and the team around this shoot.

Molly, who posed for these, has layers upon layers of truths she finds crucial and things about the world she works tirelessly to improve. From social justice to art, her strength of character and determination were elements I wanted to preserve and to enhance.

Being a fellow artist and photographer, Molly was able to offer contributions that went beyond posing in front of the camera. Her willingness to collaborate, with clear ideas on how she wanted to pose, and her willingness to stand in the murky Hudson River on a warm July night all yielded a rich session with many images I love.

For a few years we were promising to make some art together. And this was really one of the first few chances. I’m happy. And I believe the diptych of Night Paper on the left and a light painting night portrait on the right speak to each other.

The best ideas really require getting other people involved to render the vision. The other people I want to thank are Kelly Mena for producing the video shoot preceding the Night Paper shoot, and my wife Mabel for being my stalwart creative support on the video and portrait shoots. And for that matter, practically everything else.

For me, 2020 will always be a time of exploring the realities and concepts behind isolation, safety and security. This portrait pair is one glimpse into a topic I want to explore even more.

Tim Cooper

Steam at Excelsior Geyser

Steam at Excelsior Geyser, Yellowstone National Park. Nikon Z 6 with a Nikon 14-24mm f/2.8 lens at 20mm. Two blended images shot at 6 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 1600 (foreground) and 15 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 6400 (background).

During our Yellowstone National Park workshop in September, Chris and I brought the group to one of the largest and best-known thermal features in the park: Grand Prismatic Springs. It’s known almost exclusively for the glowing oranges and yellows of the algae and bacteria mats that surround the deeper blues of the spring. But even there, there’s much more than just one shot. And sometimes that other take can be the hero image.

While walking the location, I noticed a car coming down the road backlighting the profuse steam generated by nearby Excelsior Geyser. The play of light and shadow through the steam was simply fantastic. I knew I had to somehow capture it by the end of the night.

By the time the group left, the shot was much more challenging to make. When I exposed for the steam and car lights, the sky rendered pitch black. On the other hand, exposing for the sky overexposed the steam. This situation called for two different exposures at different times.

For the image of the sky, I waited for a break in the steam and exposed to capture Jupiter and the stars. For the next image I had to wait for an oncoming car to backlight the steam—which by that time of night took awhile. After several attempts I finally made the images I would use to create the final composite.

The backlit moving steam and the tree and mountain silhouette came together to create an ethereal image that, for me, perfectly captured the mood of the scene.

Colorado Silky Way

Silky Way over Last Dollar Road, Colorado. Nikon Z 6 with a Nikon 50mm f/1.8 lens. Two blended images shot at 2 minutes, f/2.8, ISO 320 (foreground) and 8 minutes, f/2.8 ISO 160 (background).

The San Juan Mountains of western Colorado is one of my favorite places in the world. I’ve been running workshops there every year since 1995, and I never tire of the area or the scenery. When I am there, I am inspired.

I made this image during our workshop in October, at the end of our traverse over Last Dollar Road, one of the lower mountain passes in the area. Chris and I had chosen this location as a spot where we could photograph both the sunset and, later, the Milky Way. After an awe-inspiring drive, we arrived just in time to time to frame up some shots of the sunset and then plan our blue hour compositions. Once these were made, we left our cameras set up and waited for the end of astronomical twilight. The skies were perfectly clear and every participant made great images of the galactic core.

Upon arrival, I had envisioned my final shot as a tack-sharp image of the core, but after experimenting with shutter speeds, I decided on an 8-minute exposure instead. Eight minutes of exposure is generally too short to create desirable trails when using a wide angle lens, but with the longer focal length of 50mm the trails are perfect. The narrow view of this lens also compressed the foreground and magnified the core to create the look that some call the “Silky Way.”

Your Turn

So there you go—from Maine to California, and even to Norway, and from a plethora of places in between—our favorite photographs from 2020.

Now we’d like to see yours! Please share your favorite night image from the past year, either in the comments below, on our Facebook page, or on Instagram (tag @nationalparksatnight). And then let’s all march forward together into 2021, when we’ll find new nights and new inspiration.

Matt Hill is a partner and workshop leader with National Parks at Night. See more about his photography, art, workshops and writing at MattHillArt.com. Follow Matt on Twitter Instagram Facebook.

UPCOMING WORKSHOPS FROM NATIONAL PARKS AT NIGHT

Loving Luna: A Photo Essay Celebration of the Halloween Blue Moon

Over 600 full moons have pulled at me during my lifetime. The moon has not only guided me, but has provided balance to our planet and instructed timekeepers since, well, the dawn of time. It is the second brightest celestial object after the sun, and is Earth’s own private and natural satellite.

Most night photographers object to the brightness of the moon—a veritable star eater that streaks across the sky and blows out the details of the Milky Way. Many night photographers prefer to stay inside than to be out under soft moonlight.

But just as the moon brought wonder and awe to our ancient ancestors, it can bring just as much wonder to our photographs—not to mention the superwonder that even modern humans have been gifted from supermoons, blood moons and eclipses.

Along those same lines, today we experience a blue moon—on Halloween, no less!

Of course, any full moon that falls on Halloween would be a blue moon, but that doesn’t mean it’s common. The last time the two events coincided was 1944, and the next will be 2039.

To honor this event, all five National Parks at Night instructors got together to share images of when they lassoed the moon. We hope this inspires you to get out tonight (after trick-or-treating, of course) to bring back some inspired images!


Matt Hill

The Headless Horseman, Sleep Hollow Cemetery. Nikon Z 6 with a Venus Optics Laowa 15mm f/2 FE Zero-D lens. 4 seconds f/5.6, ISO 800.

Jim Logan invited me to photograph the Headless Horseman in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in early October. This wasn’t the first time—it’s nearly an annual tradition that I enjoy very much. Each time I challenge myself to light it differently, and this year we were extra lucky to have clear skies (very unusual!) plus the conjunction of Mars and the moon (what luck!). 

After consulting PhotoPills, we set up where the moon would rise. I brought along five Nanlite PavoTubes and lit a scene that covered a large area, as the horse sometimes wanders. 

I used my wireless Phottix Aion remote intervalometer to trigger my camera, and walked around with a CTO-gelled speedlite to highlight the horse and rider. The final touch was inserting a Nanlite Pavotube 6C 10" tube light into the pumpkin to illuminate it from within. 

Fortune smiled upon us! The moon rose, the planets and satellite aligned, and this magic moment unfolded in front of my camera.

Lance Keimig

Mesquite Sand Dunes, Death Valley National Park. Nikon D750 with a Nikon 14-24mm f/2.8 lens. 30 seconds, f/8, ISO 400.

Experiencing sunset followed by the slow fade into darkness along with the full moonrise in the sand dunes of Death Valley is unforgettable. Death Valley is one of my favorite parks, and I think moonrise in the sand dunes is one of the very best parts of any visit to the park.

After walking about a mile from the road to get into the dunes and then cresting over the first ridge, it feels as if the dunes go on forever and that I am alone in the universe. That sensation can be at times both calming and exhilarating. The landscape is vast, but also intimate. It can be challenging to photograph––especially if one is trying to accurately record the essence of the experience.

On this particular night, I allowed myself to get lost in the experience, and hadn’t set up a shot for when the moon rose over the horizon. As a result, I wasn’t ready when it happened. The best light lasts only a few minutes, and it was rapidly slipping away from me. 

Full Stop. Breathe. Be present in the moment. Any pressure I feel is self-imposed. I stopped dead in my tracks, realizing that I had been hurrying to find “The Shot” when the reality was there was no one image to be made. The images were all around me and I had to choose.

Backlighting by the moon with soft light scraping across the surface of the dunes was the common element to every image I saw. I composed, planning in the field to later crop to panoramic proportions. I decided to let the moon blow out, and exposed to keep some detail in the darkest areas in the sand. In the end, it was a straightforward shot, but captured the sensation of being there, alone, in the moonlight.

Tim Cooper

Moon over Trona Pinnacles National Natural Landmark. Nikon Z 6 with a Nikon 14-24mm f/2.8 lens, light painted with a Luxli Viola. 20 seconds, f/5.6, ISO 1600.

For many night enthusiasts, if the night doesn’t have a Milky Way, it isn’t a night to photograph. I love night photography. Any night. Any time of the month.  I enjoy the challenge of making images under various conditions. And one of my favorite challenges is shooting under the full moon.

Moonlit landscapes provide limitless possibilities. I can use the moonlight as the key (main) light, which renders the scene as a near duplicate of a daytime image, or I can use it to simply fill in the shadows of my favorite light painting scheme. I can draw out texture or emphasize shape in the foreground, or I can shoot directly into the moon and use it as backlight.

One of my favorite techniques mimics the popular sunburst technique used in daylight photography. On a clear moonlit night, I simply point my camera directly into the moon and stop down to f/5.6 or f/8. The smaller aperture renders the moon as a moonburst. Shutter speeds under these conditions can still be short enough to render star points, and a decent exposure can be made at lower ISOs, keeping high exposure noise to a minimum.

Chris Nicholson

Lathe Arch and Mount Whitney, Alabama Hills National Scenic Area. Nikon D5 with an Irix 11mm f/4 lens. 30 seconds, f/11, ISO 3200.

I love shooting the moon, so it’s hard to pick just one moon image. So rather than spending an inappropriate amount of time searching through my images (OK, I admit—after spending an inappropriate amount of time searching through my images), I decided to show a photograph I made just this past week.

This actually started as a challenge from Lance. I was in Alabama Hills National Scenic Area in California with Tim and our workshop group, and Lance told me to see if I could get a photo of Lathe Arch with Mount Whitney in the background. He was setting me up, for sure. The arch is small—about two feet high—and photographing it from said angle requires wedging yourself into a steep crevice in the rock.

I guess I kind of cheated. I used an Irix 11mm f/4—a superwide but rectilinear lens that allowed me to set up superclose to the arch, so that I could use horizontal rather than flat rock to balance my tripod. Still, it wasn’t easy—the tripod legs were flat to the ground, two of them spreading precariously close to creeping into the frame, and the third extending precariously over the edge of the crevice.

Of course, there was light painting too, and that required some calisthenics to jump up and down and over rocks so that I could work in foreground light, as well as background light from two angles, in a short enough exposure to keep the moon from trailing into an oval. This is why I wear good trail shoes when shooting.

And hey, I got the shot! With the moon. Thanks to a challenge from a friend.

Gabe Biderman

Supermoon and bridges in New York City. Nikon D750 with a Tamron 150-600mm f/5-6.3 lens. 1/2 second, f/11, ISO 400.

I began my official supermoon chase in earnest in 2016. Everything aligned perfectly on November 14, which would feature the biggest supermoon since 1948. The moon would rise at 5:14 p.m., but as much as I love New York City, there isn’t much of a horizon line here. I used PhotoPills to find the best spot, which I determined to be on the southern shores of the East River, at Pier 17, where views of the Brooklyn, Manhattan and Williamsburg bridges align.

As the day of the moon event drew near, I chose to share the experience as a National Parks at Night photo walk with B&H Photo. Our friends from Tamron brought a couple of 150-600mm lenses in Nikon and Canon mounts, which we set up on Wimberley Gimbal heads so people could easily track the moon.

The biggest challenge was the cloudy sky. The moon rose, but we couldn’t make out anything against the cityscape. Then one hour later the moon found an opening in the clouds and peeked out for exactly two minutes.

I was able to make eight exposures during that time, ranging from 1/4 second to 6 seconds. The 1/2-second exposure ended up being my favorite, as it revealed detail in the moon as well as the surrounding clouds. The moon is as big as the arch of the Williamsburg Bridge, and I love the abstract layers of the beams of the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges. 

It was a thrilling two minutes. I loved pre-visualizing and then waiting for that moment. I imagine this might be close to what wildlife photographers feel when they are hidden quietly in the brush and waiting for perfection to happen. I got my supermoon.

Wrapping Up

Have you shot the moon? We’d love to see your images. Feel free to share in the comments, on our Facebook page or by tagging @nationalparksatnight on Instagram!

Gabriel Biderman is a partner and workshop leader with National Parks at Night. He is a Brooklyn-based fine art and travel photographer, and author of Night Photography: From Snapshots to Great Shots (Peachpit, 2014). During the daytime hours you'll often find Gabe at one of many photo events around the world working for B&H Photo’s road marketing team. See his portfolio and workshop lineup at www.ruinism.com.

UPCOMING WORKSHOPS FROM NATIONAL PARKS AT NIGHT

Nights of the Comet: Our Photos and Experiences with NEOWISE

Night photography isn’t just our livelihood—it’s also our passion, and our art. As much as we love to teach, we also love to venture into the field and shoot, especially when something special is happening in the sky. Comet NEOWISE certainly met the standard of “something special.”

So a couple of weeks ago, when the comet began appearing among the stars, we knew we wanted to get out to make some photos of it. Lance and I were heading to coastal Maine to run back-to-back moonless workshops. Matt was at home in the beautiful Catskill Mountains of New York. All three of us were in perfect places at perfect times.

NEOWISE is now fading from view, but won’t be fading from memories. Below you’ll find some of the images we created.


Lance

A single exposure of Comet NEOWISE and the Monhegan Lighthouse made by covering and uncovering the lens for 3-second intervals. The slowly rotating light has six beams and makes a full rotation once every minute and a half. I first worked on this technique last year during our Cape Cod workshop while photographing Nauset Light in Eastham, Massachusetts. Nauset Light’s beam rotates much faster, and required covering and uncovering the lens a couple of times per second. Chris figured out that 3-second intervals worked well for this one, and I got lucky with this shot by using his timing. · Nikon D750 with a Tamron 15-30mm f/2.8 lens at 20mm. 25 seconds, f/3.2, ISO 6400.

A dory and the back of the keeper’s house at Monhegan Lighthouse, with Comet NEOWISE between the roof peaks. This is a composite of two exposures––one for the sky and a second longer exposure for the foreground. A smaller aperture was needed for depth of field, which necessitated the higher ISO for the sky shot and a longer exposure for the foreground. This type of subject matter is exactly the kind of thing that I love to shoot, and I would have made the same composition even without the comet. Bonus! · Nikon D750 with a Nikon 24-120mm f/4 lens at 44mm. Sky shot at 10 seconds, f/4.5, ISO 12,800; foreground shot at 70 seconds, f/4.5, ISO 6400.

Jordan Pond and the famous Bubbles of Acadia National Park, with the comet in the northwestern sky. A composite of different exposures for the foreground and sky. I generally like to get everything in one frame, but the short shutter speeds required to keep the stars and comet sharp combined with the need to stop down for depth of field made this image virtually impossible without compositing. I partially desaturated and added a fair amount of contrast, both to make the image bolder and to minimize any noise issues from the high ISOs. · Nikon D750 with a Tamron 15-30mm f/2.8 lens at 17mm. Sky shot at 25 seconds, f/4, ISO 6400; foreground shot at 270 seconds, f/4, ISO 6400.


Matt

It’s been really cloudy here in the Catskills, and when I finally had a clear night, it was cloudy at the horizon. So I really did not get a crack at NEOWISE until the night of the new moon on July 20. I started with my 15mm lens and shot single images. At first I was surprised and a little unhappy about the light pollution—but then I reminded myself that with the new moon everything would have been dark, and the light pollution illuminated the valley below and gave context to the image. · Nikon Z 6 with a Venus Optics Laowa 15mm f/2 FE Zero-D lens. 15 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 6400.

When I saw the massive galactic core behind me over the mountain, I wanted to shoot for a Milky Way arch with the comet. With 13 images and a really aggressive tilt upward, I was totally surprised the stitch worked. I usually shoot dead level. And I think the S-curve of the mountain to the valley along the bottom works well. I also love the comet arcing in the same curve as the Milky Way. All in all, I was happy with the one night of shooting. Alas, it’s been cloudy ever since! · Nikon Z 6 with a Venus Optics Laowa 15mm f/2 FE Zero-D lens. 13 stitched frames shot at 20 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 6400.


Chris

This was my first real chance to focus on photographing the comet. I’d seen it a few times in the nights prior, but had been focused on helping workshop participants so didn’t shoot anything more than a snapshot. But on this night it was just Lance and I out working together at the Monhegan Island Lighthouse in Maine. The evening started off foggy, and the comet wasn’t even on our radar. But suddenly the northern and western skies cleared (that kind of thing can happen in New England), and there it was! I framed the comet between the fog bell and the keeper’s quarters; I light painted the former, and the lighthouse painted the latter. · Nikon D5 with a Nikon 14-24mm f/2.8 lens, light painted with a Luxli Viola. 25 seconds, f/3.5, ISO 6400.

I’d spotted this scene earlier in the evening, and came back to it as my last stop of the night—once the comet had set low enough. I saw it as a black and white image from conception, partly because the color temperatures were different on the horizon and in the window, and partly because it just felt like an old-time black and white scene. What I didn’t realize, even in the dark, was that the long exposure would reveal in the window someone’s head on the pillow. Why were they sleeping through the comet? · Nikon D5 with a Nikon 24-70mm f/2.8 lens. 16 frames shot at 5 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 25,600, stacked in Sequator.

For a week I knew I wanted to photograph the comet over Jordan Pond in Acadia National Park—one of my happy places. When we got there, the night was perfectly clear, and I got my chance for this pano. · Nikon D5 with a Nikon 24-70mm f/2.8 lens. Six stitched frames shot at 15 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 6400.

My favorite images I’ve seen of the comet are those that incorporate it into a landscape or a wider scene, so that’s mostly what I tried to work on. But I wanted to make just one portrait of NEOWISE. I did so from the northwest shores of Monhegan Island. I liked the blend of colors from the horizon into the deeper blue of the night sky, as well as the deep blues of the Atlantic below—so that became my backdrop for NEOWISE. · Nikon D5 with a Nikon 24-70mm f/2.8 lens. 32 frames shot at 5 seconds, f/2.8, ISO 25600, stacked in Sequator.


Wrapping Up

Now that we’ve shown you our images, we’d love to see yours! Please share your comet photos and stories in the comments or on our Facebook page, or post them on Instagram and tag @nationalparksatnight. Or all three!

Chris Nicholson is a partner and workshop leader with National Parks at Night, and author of Photographing National Parks (Sidelight Books, 2015). Learn more about national parks as photography destinations, subscribe to Chris' free e-newsletter, and more at www.PhotographingNationalParks.com.

UPCOMING WORKSHOPS FROM NATIONAL PARKS AT NIGHT