Reflections

The Autumn Equinox

I’m up at 6:30 am on the 22nd. It’s early, but somehow there’s still barely enough time to get the camera out of the bag and tripod set up before the Autumn Equinox begins at 6:43. It’s also crazy cold for here and this time of year — high 40s. I select the wide angle lens and slip down the hill to what may be a good spot. Clouds dot the sky — that perfect shot with the sun peeking over the mountains and basking the westward horizon in a wash of watermelon won’t be happening today. When I get there I realize I left the Shur microphone behind. Next time. The first shoot lasts 20 minutes or so. As I’m heading back up the hill shortly after sunrise at 6:55, I see a spot that inspires, tuck in next to an evergreen. It works. As I’m editing, I notice the clouds seem to dash across the sky while skimming through shots. I try to add an effect to speed up the video, but the changes are so subtle it doesn’t give the effect I’m looking for. Something for later assessment.

Because of the time of day of the Equinox, I decide that there will be a theme for this week: sunrise.

Each day I try a different camera or lens. I’m struck by the challenges: the camera that won’t focus in low light so the sunrise is a blur of pastels and blacks, the “dead” technology (a camera that shoots using mini DV) that won’t be recognized by the laptop and thus I’m unable to edit, the phone-based editing software that does the job, but with odd fits and starts. Learning curves.

But throughout all I’m struck by the subtle day to day differences in the sky. The day where the mesas to the west turn watermelon pink. How the sun looks different rising each day. How clouds refract the light and one one day make the sun appear to disappear on the horizon after rising.