Storms to the west and the resulting anticrepuscular rays

Tonight, towering anvil clouds on the western horizon filtered the sun's rays, causing a decent display of anticrepuscularays in the east. The thunderstorms were west of Orlando -- quite far off. But whenever there are thunderclouds to the west, the Space Coast sees this atmospheric phenomenon -- though its weather isn't directly affected. Saturday's rays seemed more pronounced than usual. I was enjoying some football and salsa in Rockledge at the time.

I didn't have a clear shot of the storm because of houses obstructing my view. But here's the southern edge of the anvil.

A crescent moon comes close to setting with Venus.

Tranquil sunset as fierceness brews in the Atlantic

Earl, a major hurricane in the Atlantic Ocean, pushed some high waves to the Space Coast this week, and I was charged with covering the conditions Wednesday. 'Tis a rough assignment to drive to Cocoa Beach, stroll on the sand and snap photos. But toward the end of my time on the beach, there was some relief: a beautiful setting sun. Crepuscular rays filtered through the clouds nicely. For the first shot above, a pelican was in the frame.

These were not storm clouds, just some puffy cumulus to the far west. Aside from the horizon, the sky was clear blue: another atypical day in this abnormally arid summer in Florida.

I, and many of the other beachgoers, were fascinated by the shadows cast by the clouds. A woman lying flat on the sand noticed me taking pictures, turned around and saw what I was shooting. She was thrilled. She shook her napping husband quite violently for a minute, yelling at him to wake up. He finally did. I hope he wasn't disappointed at the sight.

The real reason I was at the beach was the danger presented by Hurricane Earl: rip currents and 8-foot waves. Those swells are expected to hit 13 feet Thursday. The most horrible thing in all of this, however, is the poor use of punctuation in the sign to the left. That should be "swimmers," not "swimmer's." There is no need for possession here. And the sign to the right contains an error of fact. "Rip tides" are not the same as "rip currents." The sign meant "rip currents."

This is the last shot as I left the beach.

On my way back to the newspaper, I stopped quickly along the Pineda Causeway over the Indian River, just north of Melbourne. The sun really started to set.

This is one of the best sunsets I've seen this summer. I don't often get out during the golden hour because it's a prime writing period for me at work. Ideally, I'd be roaming around Brevard County all the time for my job.

Earlier, while I was driving, a cloud similar to this one was somewhat in the shape of a certain rodent's ears. The shadow it cast was, of course, magnified, making it look even more like Mickey Mouse. How typical of Central Florida. Hard to describe, but it was cool. Believe me.

In one of my favorites of the evening, sea birds fly through the frame. Oh, and coincidentally, I find it ironic that my home state of Maine has been hotter -- well into the 90s -- this week than Florida and that it's more apt to be hit by Hurricane Earl than this state ever was.

I snapped one last shot as I climbed back over the berm of rocks separating the roadway and the river.

New photographic tool: my Harley Sportster

This motorcycle was purchased from a retiree in the Melbourne area who had been storing - rarely riding - it in his garage, so it's in good shape.

Some readers wanted to see better photos of my new toy, a 2005 Harley-Davidson Sportster 1200 Custom. A friend and I took a golden hour ride Monday night, with the sun now setting just after 5:30 p.m. - way too early.

We stopped for a quick shoot along the Indian River on southern Merritt Island. Still without bags on my motorcycle, it's difficult to carry photographic equipment. But with a few bungee cords, I've been able to strap a backpack to the passenger backrest, or "sissy bar," to haul along one camera, a spare lens and a small tripod.

There will be plenty of photos of motorcycles and photos from motorcycles in the future. Taking my Harley on a trip such as the one to Key West in September certainly could provide a new angle on Florida.

I'm glad I went with the larger of the Sportie models, the 1200 opposed to the 883. The added power helps when trying to avoid the maniacal drivers on Florida roads.

Some errant wax found its way onto the front tire when I was cleaning the bike, and I keep forgetting to rub it off. The streak kind of ruins this photo.

Photo | Once again, anticrepuscular rays, this time sans pavement, power lines

For the third time in a row (at sunset Thursday, sunrise Friday and, now, sunset Friday), anticrepuscular rays appeared in the sky opposite the sun. Now that I know this phenomenon is a common occurrence, my only mission in photographing it was to see the rays at a place other than a parking lot. On Friday night, that finally happened when I was out of work during a break and saw the rays over the Indian River at Rotary Park in Suntree.

Photos | 20 minutes after sunset, similar sights in opposite directions

Facing west (taken at 7:37 p.m., with sunset at 7:16 p.m.): The Space Coast has seen some great sunsets recently, with large clouds on the horizon filtering the light and sending distinct rays through the atmosphere. On Wednesday night, I didn't bother to take any photos because I had too many newspaper stories to edit. But on Thursday night, I somewhat belatedly stepped outside work to check on the post-sunset sky and took some photos from the edge of a pond behind the building. The putrid body of water has appeared in many other photos I have taken at work. The view of the large clouds that gave rise to the streaks of light, though, was blocked by the trees.

Facing east (taken at 7:34 p.m.): It's amazing that I had never witnessed this sight before moving to Florida, but for the third time in my life and for the second time in as many weeks, anticrepuscular rays appeared in the eastern sky, opposite the sunset Thursday. In Maine, where I had spent my summers before moving to Washington, then to New York, the clouds tend to be much smaller. Thus, I suspect that this phenomenon occurs much less frequently in regions without the cloud-building capabilities of more tropical climes.

Always ready to fire: Sunset-moon interaction is gone in 60 seconds

When there are large clouds on the horizon for a sunset, there frequently are these rays of sunlight that shine upward. On Tuesday night, the scene especially struck me when I saw the brightening crescent moon that seemed to be the target of those rays.

For aspiring photographers, the foremost thing I would recommend is to always have a camera on hand. I'm widely known among friends for having a backpack full of equipment by my side or in my car at work, while grocery shopping, even while swimming. I like shooting weather, and that - despite meteorologists' attempts - is utterly unpredictable, especially in Central Florida. If any disaster - natural or man-made - happens close by, I would be ready. Many of the photos on this blog are the result of being prepared for the unexpected. Considerably fewer are results of purposely photographic ventures.

One of my favorite professional photographers - other than my father, of course - is Chase Jarvis, who has completed some cool field-testing work for Nikon's D90 and is doing some now for Sandisk, a maker of media cards for digital cameras. When he doesn't have his high-powered Nikons and Hasselblads on him, though, Jarvis carries an iPhone, with which he has taken some uniquely beautiful, creative images. That inspired a book, a Web site and an iPhone application dedicated to photography with Apple's popular device. The site, which was launched today, is here.

Until I get my first iPhone, I'm sticking with a large camera bag holding two cameras - my D40 and D90 - along with various lenses, accessories and tripods. It again paid dividends Tuesday night when I was running errands. While I was heading home on U.S. 1, the setting sun's rays shot upward at an angle toward a crescent moon. Knowing it wouldn't last along the Indian River, I pulled onto Pineda Causeway, which leads to the beachside communities, and then to the side of the road as soon as I had the room to do so. Less than a minute after setting up my tripod next to the vehicles whizzing by, the scene had faded entirely. The shot is nothing spectacular, but still, it was good that I was prepared.

Florida Keys Day 5, Part 3 (last post) | Anticrepuscular rays seal the deal

I was heading through Key Largo, the northernmost city in the Florida Keys, on my way home on the Monday night during my vacation when I saw a mildly nice sunset. Stopping at a private boat ramp and undeterred by a "no trespassing" sign there, I took a few hand-held snapshots of the sunset. Now that the traffic had cleared - at least in Key Largo - I was eager to get back onto the road and en route for Melbourne. This shot looks west, of course, over Florida Bay.

It's funny that on the previous night of this sunset, I had turned around after shooting the International Space Station and saw the Milky Way in all its light-unabated brilliance. The Keys are alive with meteorological phenomenon. This night, I turned around and saw this for the second time in my life: anticrepuscular rays. Sunlight appears to emanate from the horizon to the east, but it's an optical illusion: They're just sun says being filtered by the clouds to the west and cast onto the high, thin clouds in the east. Of course, light travels in straight lines, but in this illusion, the rays appear curved. This sight made my turnaround in traffic earlier in the day totally worth it. After this, I was home in three and a half hours.

Florida Keys Day 4, Part 6 | A sunset at Bahia Honda State Park

I had meant to spend more time at the popular Bahia Honda State Park south of Marathon, but the events of my final day (Day 5) in the Florida Keys scuttled those plans. Instead, at the end of Day 4, I paid the $4.50 fee for park access and watched the sun go down from a former railroad bridge over Bahia Honda Channel. A large gap prevents walkers from proceeding but affords boats free passage.

I didn't want to see another sunset in the crowded Key West on Sunday, so I made the late-day trip north to Bahia Honda. A couple of foreign tourists had gathered at the end of the span to watch the sunset alongside me. Otherwise, the state park was not crowded with other Labor Day weekend travelers.

Seeing no traffic at all, the disconnected portion of the railway bridge is a haven for pooping birds of all sorts. Gulls and pigeons obviously have made a mess of it.

Photos | Sunset in Melbourne beats all in the Florida Keys

I was headed down to the Walmart on Wednesday evening, the last day of my vacation, when the clouds caught my eye. They were, in a word, huge. Obviously, some evening rain clouds were building. And with the sun setting in 30 minutes, I thought they would make for a good chance of a pretty sunset. That's why I drove to Lake Washington, which I now affectionately call Lake W. This first shot was taken with my wide-angle lens, about 8 inches from the palm tree. I used the camera's pathetic little external flash to light the trunk and let the sun do the work behind it. I'm surprised it turned out OK.

While the large clouds in the distance filtered the rays of sun, darker ones were moving overhead. I snapped a few shots of this fisherman. Other than the tree shot, all these photos were taken with the aid of a tripod.

The sky just above the horizon got rather red as the sun started to disappear.

The sun peeks from behind the clouds for one final time Wednesday.

Dark clouds moved in soon after the sun set, and it rained only slightly, which my camera liked. I will get back to the Florida Keys posts soon, but this sunset definitely beat most of what I saw in the Keys, a place known for spectacular ones. The final one in Key Largo was a pretty good competitor, though. That'll come later.

Photo | More colors from Monday's sunset

As the sunset over Lake Washington evolved Monday, the colors changed to darker pinks and blues.

Photo | Red sky at night, photographer's delight

I took this Monday night at Lake Washington in Melbourne, my usual sunset spot, just before thunderstorms brought lots of lightning to the Space Coast.

The phenomenon of anticrepuscular rays at Walmart, and a cheap photo of it

Looking east, opposite the sunset in the west, anticrepuscular rays appear to come out of nowhere. For a better photo and more about the phenomenon, see this NASA page.

For some reason, I never pay attention to the sunset when it's actually good. On Tuesday night, I was inside Walmart buying Listerine and bananas when all the action outside was taking place.

After I was done my shopping, the sky was absolutely glowing on the other side of the superstore. The sun was setting behind a massive electrically charged cloud, its rays shooting outward and through a wide swath of the atmosphere. (I didn't actually notice there was lightning until about 10 minutes later.)

Unfortunately, I wasn't in a position to get a photo of the setting sun. The buildings were blocking most of it.

What I did think was interesting, however, were the anticrepuscular rays, or beams of light that appeared to be emanating from the east, opposite the sunset. I just don't often see this optical illusion, which is caused by our spherical planet, probably because I don't see often sunsets. So, I honestly can't say how often this occurs during Florida sunsets or sunrises.

The job could have used a tripod, but I feared persecution from the locals in the Walmart parking lot. Still, I thought I needed to document this.

Attempting a new trick during sunset in Titusville

My first attempt at an HDR image.

After a day of photography at the Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge, I stopped on the Indian River in Titusville and watched the sun go down Monday.

With dark storm clouds approaching the region as the sun got lower, I wasn't the only one attracted to the scene at Parrish Park along the A. Max Brewer Memorial Bridge. The roadway leads from the mainland to northern Merritt Island, where the refuge and parts of Kennedy Space Center are located.

I watched the beautiful site alongside a few families, boaters just getting in from a day of fishing and anglers casting their lines from the shore.

The occasion seemed perfect for my first stab at an HDR image (HDR stands for high dynamic range). An HDR image, of which you can find many examples on photo-sharing site Flickr.com, is an artwork consisting of photographs. The above image is an HDR piece, created in Photoshop by merging 12 exposures. The trick is to keep the camera on a tripod and take several shots at varying shutter speeds, without changing the aperture. That allows you to get detail in both the dark and bright parts of a photo.

So, in the above image, you see a little more detail in the clouds than you would in a regular image that is exposed only for the sake of capturing the sun. The vertical image (left) is a straight photograph. And truth be told, I like the photograph better.

I'll continue to experiment with HDR, but don't expect it often - just because it's not real photography, in my opinion.

Up close and personal with the sun, brought to you by my telephoto lens.

With new camera, first shot that isn't an extreme close-up

The sun sets over Lake Washington in Melbourne.

When did The Offlede turn into a photo blog? Oh, yeah: last week, when I got a new Nikon D90.

Most of my experimentation with the camera thus far has been with my new Sigma 150-500mm lens. Tonight's sunset at Lake Washington was the first sub-150mm shot with the D90, though it's 82mm - not even close to being wide angle.

The D90 will be helpful with extreme wide-angle shots in the future, including more spectacular sunsets and long-exposure rocket launches from Cape Canaveral.

Speaking of rocket launches: Next week's liftoff of shuttle Atlantis will be the big test of my new telephoto lens. I'm camping out in Titusville for five hours before Monday's 2:01 p.m. launch. NASA is the reason I purchased this lens.

Photos | Another day, another sunset, another post

The water level at Melbourne's Lake Washington is quite low. The fire risk is high. We certainly don't want to see a repeat of May 2008's wildfires, which destroyed 36 homes in Brevard County. And of course, in August, the water would have been 10 feet over my head after Tropical Storm Fay dumped 2 feet of rain.

Sunset watchers got an unexpected fire-twirling show. Actually, other than this guy's family, I was the only one watching.

A jetplane crosses my camera's field of view.

Goodnight.

Is the sun going down on newspaper flicks?

I usually like to photograph sunsets with a large body of water in the foreground. For this, I had to settle for the parking lot and its trees. Below, I found several small bodies of water on the pavement.

Sometimes, good things happen when we least expect them. And on an otherwise cloudy day in Central Florida, I wasn't planning to see a spectacular sunset.

But the sun poked through and lit up those clouds just as I was getting home from the movies last night. The only bodies of water near the parking lot of my apartment complex were the puddles created when it rained earlier. I snapped a few shots.

The movie I saw was "State of Play," a political scandal-murder mystery about newspaper journalism in Washington, D.C. Many of the scenes in the movie brought back memories, such as the one at Ben's Chili Bowl in Adams Morgan.

An increasingly familiar scene at newspapers these days was near the end. The main character, a reporter played by Russell Crowe, writes his big front-page story, hits "send," and suddenly, the page is being printed (about four hours after deadline).

Where's the copy editing, huh? I noticed at least one mistake as the camera focused on the computer screen when the story was being typed. But no. Copy editors are being laid off nationwide. And because the reporter already busted deadline, there's no time for quality control.

Either that, or Hollywood just doesn't find copy editing that sexy. (Filmmakers have no idea.)

In the movie's final sequence, the camera follows the printing process from a negative of the front page, to the plate, to the press, to the paper, to the sidewalk box. Many film critics are wondering whether this will be the last big Hollywood piece to romanticize a dying medium, an "artifact," as The New York Times put it. As people who like to make up words would say, the genre is "sunsetting" along with its source material.

If future newspaper movies are anything like "State of Play," however, I'd rather not see any more. It wasn't at all interesting, suspenseful or action-packed. Crowe may play a mean gladiator, but he's less than believable as a fierce reporter.

I was expecting a better film. But sometimes, our expectations - when we have them - let us down.

In a less than sunny post, 2 drawbacks of the night shift

Grass moves in the stiff breeze as the sun sets over Lake Washington in Melbourne.

There are a lot of drawbacks to starting work at 4 or 5 p.m. One of them is missing out on one of Florida's best features: sunsets.

Here on the east coast of the state, they don't compare to those Key West or Gulf Coast solar events - or so I'm told. But still, I like to take one in whenever I can.

Having woken up at an ungodly hour for a noontime medical appointment, I was later left with six hours of daylight that I didn't know what to do with. (My typical day allows no more sunshine for anything but a quick run around the block. That's what happens when you get out of bed late in the afternoon.)

With nothing better to do, I decided to stare for an hour at the thing I rarely see. I drove just 10 minutes away to Lake Washington in Melbourne, where a city park faces west, across the water.

Even in my limited experience with Sunshine State sunsets, it wasn't the most spectacular one I've seen. But I took some photos and decided to share them anyway.

And you should expect more budget posts like this. That medical appointment wasn't cheap. I blame my problems on the night shift.

The no-rocket-launch blues

No launch, but there were clouds.

Another fueling issue prevented me from photographing a nighttime launch.

An Atlas V rocket was scheduled to lift off from Cape Canaveral Air Force Station at 9:24 p.m. Tuesday. But an engine valve in the upper stage of the 19-story rocket sprang a leak, relegating me to pictures of clouds at sunset. Last week, my lame fallback was the moon.

Unfortunately, I had already made the 35-minute trip to Port Canaveral, the closest public viewing site for a liftoff at Launch Complex 41, about 12 miles across the Banana River. Parking for launches is allowed along the waterside thoroughfare to Disney's cruise terminal. I was the first to arrive Tuesday, though, and that made me feel like a no-life loser. But I felt worse for the people I left behind who didn't get the text message from FLORIDA TODAY that said the show was off.

I'm trying to develop knowledge of the best sites from which to view launches. Probably the best resource on the Web is this site by Ben Cooper, a photographer and engineer at Kennedy Space Center.

I'm just trying to keep myself busy on my "weekend" days of Monday and Tuesday. But right now, the launch gods aren't cooperating.

Video | In Maine (not really): 'The Sunset Polka'

My Canon HV-30 in action.

I've combined the footage of the final sunset of my Maine vacation with some crazy polka music. Again, this is 61 minutes of video compressed to about 41 seconds. The video camera doesn't pick up nearly the same amount of colors as the still camera, as you can probably tell.

The video is kind of boring at first, but it picks up at the end when some clouds move in, adding some color.

Video | In Maine: Sunset, sun dog, but no Sunshine State

Sunset.

Sun dog.

Not that the Sunshine State has been living up to its name (thanks to Ms. Fay), but I'm just glad to get a chance to actually see a sunset while on vacation in Maine.

Working nights means that I'm usually hammering away at my keyboard, mouse and the occasional story from a FLORIDA TODAY report while the sun is setting outside the walls of my workplace.

I've seen some spectacular sunsets in Maine, and last night's, which is featured in the video, was not one of them. It was interesting, however, to see a sun dog form while the sun was dropping behind the island across from my parents' house. The video also includes some ducks, geese and boats.