Some Color - By Request

I received a complaint that my posts have been featuring too much brown and gray.  Well, that tends to happen during the winter.  Fortunately, winter is a prime time for a wonderful atmospheric event that quickly turns a dreary day into a colorful diorama.

Most people are familiar with the fact that sunlight is made up of a broad pallet of colors, as demonstrated by passing light through a prism to reveal individual bands of color from red to violet.  As sunlight comes streaming through the atmosphere, it collides with air molecules and certain colors are deflected from the light stream.  This process is known as scattering and the scattered colors become visible.  Colors at the violet/blue end of the spectrum are most easily deflected and are broken out for us to see.  That’s what produces the blue sky.  Evening sunlight cuts diagonally through the atmosphere, so the light must travel a longer path.  By the time it reaches us, the violet and blue have already been removed from the beam to create a blue sky somewhere out west and we see the remaining colors from the red end of the spectrum. 

The scattering effect occurs each evening, but to get the best display, you need a platform upon which the show can be displayed.  That role is assigned to clouds that pick up the red and orange colors and present them for us to see.

Best condition for viewing occurs when clouds cover the sky, but don’t reach the western horizon.  The low angle of the sun allows the light to pass through the greatest distance of air and then hit the under sides of the clouds.

The back side of a storm front usually produces the best display, because there is usually a sharp delineation between the moisture laden clouds and the dry air pushing them along.

Naked winter trees backlit by the evening sky put the colorful display to best use.

Whether you get orange, red or pink is a function of the distance the light has actually traveled and the amount of scattering that occurred during the journey.

Blue Jay Barrens has been in the path of a series of clippers moving through out of Canada.  Several have passed through just at dusk and have left wonderful conditions for beautifully colored skies.

The timing isn’t always perfect.  Most of the storms have been in a hurry and sometimes drift away without putting on a show.  These sunsets have no bearing on the biological functions at Blue Jay Barrens, but they do a wonderful job of entertaining me. 

Sunset - SWF

Some people didn’t care much for look of yesterday’s green water, so today I thought I should provide something with more visual appeal. I never tire of the sunset view from The Hill and have a large collection of sky photos from that vantage point. Events occasionally conspire to produce a most spectacular scene.

The best conditions for a colorful display occur when heavy clouds are positioned to create a narrow gap on the horizon through which the sun’s rays can shine upward to reflect from the bottoms of the clouds. Clouds swirling around the back side of a low pressure system produce the best effects. On Monday evening, the low pressure system that plagued us with rain showers most of last week finally moved far enough east to pull away the last of our cloud blanket. The timing was perfect for a fantastic evening display.

I was concerned that the clouds might begin to break apart before the display was completed, but conditions held steady right through last light.

Part of the appeal of colorful sunsets is the unpredictability of the developing colors and patterns. Conditions change so quickly that diverting your gaze for a minute could cause you to miss the best of the show. While I’m photographing, I’m also taking the time to just relax and enjoy what’s happening before me. Photos never capture the essential beauty of a blazing sunset spread across the sky, but they can act as catalysts to rekindle that image in your mind.

Then come the fiery red glows that I had hoped for. A sunset similar to this one occurred almost exactly one year ago. People from across Southern Ohio commented on the intense colors and unusual patterns produced by that event. I wonder how far reaching this sky became.

There are only a few available minutes to run through the various color patterns before the light begins to disappear. The plants and animals of Blue Jay Barrens are unaffected by a pretty sunset. People might argue that the sunset has no practical management value toward the wellbeing of this property. I would have to disagree. A key ingredient in any land management effort is the attitude of the manager toward the property being managed. I have to admit that despite the color of the sunsets, I’m already committed to managing Blue Jay Barrens in what I feel is the best way in which to perpetuate the rare ecosystems found here. But to stand in the middle of what I’ve devoted so much of my life to achieve and view such a spectacular scene, helps to renew my emotional energy and increase my enthusiasm for the work to come. Passion is wonderful, but sometimes it helps to be revitalized by some small event. Blue Jay Barrens sunsets do that for me, so I can say with all certainty that they have a profound and necessary impact on this property.

A Skywatch Friday submission.

Sunshine Returns (SWF)

Blue Jay Barrens has just come through four cool, cloudy, gray, drizzly days. I was really hoping to get some rain during the period, but the precipitation was never more than a heavy mist and our total accumulation over four days was just at 0.2 inches. On the evening of the fourth day open sky could be seen to the west between the horizon and the clouds. I headed up the hill to enjoy the few minutes of sunshine.

To the east, the setting sun showed that we were getting some color in the tree canopy. Of course, part of that color is the reflection from the clouds. Even the green leaves showed a touch of orange. The rapidly advancing shadows restricted the length of this show to about one minute.

The top of The Hill affords the best sky views and I often enjoy the show from up here. I enjoyed the view in the absence of any distractions. The wind stilled and for five minutes there was silence from all directions.

The large, double-trunked Tuliptree is like a kid begging to have the camera turned in his direction. The tree has already lost half of its leaves. This bareness makes the upper branches merge with the electric pink sky.

The clouds take on a menacing visage as the setting sun casts fire across the sky. These clouds represent the outer most band swirling around a low pressure system somewhere along the east coast. It’s unusual to have clouds moving out of the north and makes the whole scene even stranger.

As the light fades, I take one last shot and then head back down the hill. As I turn, I hear a Henslow’s Sparrow calling from the field. I’ve been futilely looking for Henslow’s all summer. Why do I finally hear one in October?

Check out Skywatch Friday for some magnificent sky images.