If you put yourself at the right location at the right time, you have the best opportunity to get a good photo. We've done this many a time and got nothing for our efforts. Today we were rewarded with something amazing. Last year, almost to the day, we witnessed a few blastoffs at Bosque Del Apache Wildlife Refuge. You can read about it in our post from Dec 12, 2018, aptly called, “Blastoff!?!” . We had so much fun then but were caught a bit off guard photographically. This year we were determined to improve. As with last year we decided to set up at a pond just outside the pay area. We did this with 100 other photographers, almost all with big lenses to zoom into a single bird, the Sandhill Crane. I’ve seen some of these photos on the internet and they are quite good. Sandhill Cranes do not blastoff as an entire flock but one, two or three at time. This makes for great macro photography of these birds. Kathryn and I had our largest lens with us, 400mm, half the zoom power as our big lens buddies. You could say we were feeling a bit inadequate. Instead of zooming in on a single bird, we would work on environmental shots with a few birds rather than one. 400mm was perfect for this. After waiting a bit, freezing our buns off, we heard a tremendous noise from behind us. About a quarter mile away was an eruption of Snow Geese, thousands of them doing a blastoff. We groused to each other that we missed the blastoff, which is why we repeated our trip to Bosque. We turned around and stared at the spectacle, a thousand birds going skyward, all at once. Snow Geese blasting off behind us just before sunrise [photo by Kathryn] As we watched in dismay, something amazing started to happen. All the Snow Geese were coming our way, flying over us (I wish I had an umbrella), and circling the Sandhill Cranes in the pond. After circling for a bit, probably showing off for us, they all landed in the pond, right in front of us! After the landing, all the photographers started talking at once. Nobody had seen this before. We started hearing, “I’ve been coming here for years and have never seen this.” And, “what are they going to do now that they have landed?” The photographer murmur became a fervor, sounding like a gaggle of Snow Geese getting ready for a blastoff. While everyone was flustered by what they saw, I went into action. If the geese are all grouped together in the pond water, perhaps they might blastoff, I thought. So, I quickly changed out my telephoto lens for a wide angle lens. The Sandhill Cranes would have to wait. I wanted to capture a blastoff where the entire effect could be captured in a single image. We all waited, and waited some more. Then it happened. All at once they took off. The Snow Geese coming in for a landing before sunrise. At the time I had on my 80-400mm zoom lens. Even at 80mm the scene was truncated quite a bit. Blastoff! A wider angled lens provides a better view of the blastoff. The timing was great as there was an amazing alpenglow happening. Well, that was fun and very much unexpected. Then the unexpected became another amazing occurrence. After the blastoff, all the Snow Geese flew around a bit and came back to the pond for another landing. What before was a lot of confused photographers now became photographers giddy with joy. Could this be happening again? As it turned out, yes it was happening again. Just a few moments later they took off again, this time during golden hour lighting. Final blastoff! I positioned myself in a way to have a strong foreground element, a patch of grass in the pond (notice the shadows from photographers near me). Even though the alpenglow was no longer present, the golden hour lighting was exquisite. It was quite a morning with the Snow Geese the star of the show. After the final blastoff, I did change back to my zoom lens and captured a few photos of the Sandhill Cranes. Three Sandhill Cranes is flight. It took a lot of coaxing by me to get them to have their wings up in unison. Thanks for reading, and remember, it's all about the light.

We caught yellow fever on our trip through Escalante and Capitol Reef. If you don't know, yellow fever is a dangerous disease caused by a virus that is spread through mosquito bites. Symptoms include fever and chills among many other things. Luckily, we didn't get this kind of yellow fever, instead we contracted a different kind of yellow fever. Along with fever and chills our symptoms also included a sensitivity to light, yellow light. We were inexplicably drawn to the glowing yellow of the fall foliage, especially trees with contrasting, dark thick branches. It is autumn and the fall colors are in full bloom, especially the Cottonwood tree, so vibrant and spectacular. We got chills looking at them then feverish trying to capture photos that represent what we were seeing. It all started on the Burr Trail in Escalante. We felt great, no major malady to speak of. Our goal was to photograph swiss cheese, not the kind you eat, but the fascinating rock formations on canyon walls. (see post from a few years ago, Rock & Swiss Sandwich ). However, within the first mile we came across bright yellow Cottonwoods. Not just a few Cottonwoods but hundreds of them, all replete with yellow. We had to stop and shoot, traipsing in and around, photographing every angle conceivable. Less than a mile later we were at it again. Then soon we came across thousands of them nestled within a canyon just waiting to be photographed. We obliged but the fever got worse, changing all of our activities to center around shooting yellow trees. We spent some time amidst the Cottonwoods. Perhaps this is how we contracted yellow fever? The Cottonwoods seemingly go on forever. When we finally arrived at the Swiss cheese, we realized there was nowhere to hide. Even the Swiss cheese was yellow! We asked around Escalante, have you heard of this? Has this happened to anyone else? Yes, they had heard of this. The disease strikes the unknowing or the unwitting every fall, especially photographers. Is there a cure? No one knew specifically, but the fever seems to diminish and fade during the early colds of winter. We new we couldn't wait this long, we needed to figure this out now. Kathryn and I noodled on this for a bit and came up with what we thought was a novel idea. We would photograph as many yellow trees as possible, hoping that with each photo the yellow fever would diminish. As we were in the full grip of the fever, we hoped this would work. What else could we do? It was time to head for Capitol Reef NP. Hopefully, there would be some yellow there. If not, we would have to cancel this portion of our trip and go back to Escalante. We were lucky, there were Cottonwoods, Apricots, Apple, Cherry, and most any other fruit tree you can imagine, yellow everywhere! We now knew we would be cured. But things aren't always as they seem as the yellow grip tightened further. We were bordering on the obsessed, now photographing all the yellow we could find. Apricot trees in full yellow bloom, hanging out with the mountains. Even the horses enjoyed a bit of yellow. No, I did not eat these horses! The plan was not working. The more we photographed the more the fever took hold. We ended our first day on a high from all the yellow but dejected that we were still diseased. On the second day, we did the Cathedral Valley Loop, a 60 mile scenic backway dirt road filled with obstacles at every turn. As we drove on the severe washboarding, the car rattling more and more, we realized there was no yellow at all. This would not do. We made it to the famous Temple of the Sun and Temple of the Moon at mile 16 then agreed to abort our scenic drive to get back to capture more yellow. We needed to be cured before heading to our final part of our trip, Monument Valley, where there will be no yellow at all. The left is the Moon and the right is the Sun or vice versa. I guess it really doesn't matter as they are not yellow. We finished up the day with stops at all our favorite yellow places. As we took these photos we started to realize that we didn't NEED to photograph the yellow, we wanted to. The fever finally broke. The amazing Cottonwood in full regalia. With dark clouds coming in, snow in the forecast, the yellow is still vibrant as ever. Even the local deer was amazed by the yellow! [photo by Kathryn] At dinner we congratulated each other on finding a cure. The waitress stopped by and asked if I wanted ketchup or mustard with my hamburger. No mustard, I'd had enough yellow! Remember, it's all about the light. P.S. Kathryn and I took about 600 photos each of these yellow trees. Quite a disease, wouldn't you say?

I wouldn't say I'm adventurous with the foods I will eat. We've traveled all over the world, tried some local specialties, but stopped short of the outrageous. I wouldn't eat Scorpions, Tarantulas or Cockroaches in Siem Reap, Cambodia. Nor barbacued rat from a street merchant in Battambang. But, in Iceland, I decided to expand my horizons. Our first day in Iceland we decided to eat at a local pub, Icelandic Bar, that serves local ales and some local fare. We noticed Puffin on the menu. Do they really eat Puffin? You know, those incredibly cute birds. On the menu, a bar item of smoked and lightly seared puffin breast meat served with tiny berries sounded pretty good. I asked the waitress whether people really eat the cute puffin. She said that it is a local delicacy, enjoyed by the locals and tourists alike. It's really good she assured me. We decided to give it a go. And, believe it or not, it was very good. The meat was not gamey, and the berries tasted a lot like blueberries. After our meal we decided that the food was great but the concept of eating a puffin was a bit much for us. We wouldn't order it again. Very nice food presentation, great color, and good eats. While in a restaurant in Hofn, known for its Langoustines, which I had no trouble eating, the waitress threw down a challenge. "Why don't you try the horse steak? It is really quite good." The thought of eating Mr. Ed was too much for me to contemplate. "I'll eat it tomorrow night", I declared. Instead, I ordered the grilled Langoustines which are in the shrimp family but look and taste like tiny lobsters. Hofn is the langoustine capitol of Iceland, they say. With gusto, I ate an entire plate, melted butter all over me. Better than shrimp but not quite a good as lobster, IMO. The next night we went to the same restaurant, saw the same waitress, who sidled up to our table. "Ready for horse?" "Um, no thanks." She gave me a look, the look that said I should eat some crow. Instead of crow we got the fish mash (cod mashed together with cheese and potato, baked as a casserole), another local meal. I played it safe. Crow doesn't taste so good and Mr. Ed lived to see another day. After trying some local fare, we were excited to try some local drink, specifically alcohol. We asked the bartender at our hotel, just outside the town of Vik, for a drink the locals imbibe. He suggested "Black Death" with a shark fin. This is the drink of Icelanders, she proclaimed. We were eager to try the alcohol, but shark fin didn't sound so appetizing. she was glad to get us two shots, but sorry that they were all out of shark fin. We smiled, said thank you, and quickly ordered two before she found a fin or two. Black Death wasn't too deadly. It is a type of Icelandic schnapps flavored with carraway. Suffice it to say, it was not the last Black Death we enjoyed during the cold Icelandic evenings. You can see the shark fins which we refused to try. [photo from brennivin website] On our last evening, I stopped horsing around. We found a fancy restaurant in Reykjavik that served all sorts of things, American and Icelandic. The menu had among other things, both whale and horse. I was starving as I ate light for breakfast and for lunch. I told the waiter I was so hungry I could eat a horse. He said that I came to the right place. Perhaps this wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear. But rather, “So sorry sir but we are out of horse tonight,” might have been the response I wanted. I was ready to face my daemons and, with some hesitation, ordered whale for our appetizer and horse for the main course, of course. The whale came looking a lot like rare steak. If you are wondering, it tastes a lot like reindeer with a hint of tuna sashimi. Pretty tasty! Whale is a mammal, thus, the meat is red, with a slightly fishy aftertaste. Then came the horse, served with mushrooms and French fries. It was a filet, looking an awful lot like filet mignon. But what would it taste like? I steadied my nerves, readied my stomach, wiped the tears from my eyes and cut off a small piece. It smelled fine, looked fine. With a shaking hand I brought the meat to my mouth. Not in the mood for crow, I popped in my mouth and had a chew. After all my trepidations, it was lean, tender, and tasty. I finished the steak and ended my culinary experiences with a big swallow of Tuscan red. That will probably be the last time I eat a horse now that Mr. Ed is gone. The filet looked and almost tasted like filet mignon. Now, I am looking forward to getting home and eating a hot dog, apple pie, or a pizza at Bianco's with my Scottsdale pizza buddy. Remember, it's all about culinary enlightenment!

Late September here in 2019, what a very special time for me. I'll always remember, what a night. Jökulsárlón Lagoon, or Glacier Lagoon, is a fan favorite among tourists and photographers. It is extremely easy to get to, parking on the side of the ring road (A1), with a very short hike to the lagoon. With mountains and glaciers surrounding the lagoon and ice bergs, bergy bits and growlers in the lake, it can be a photographic extravaganza. But, like always, you need great light. Otherwise you can walk away feeling disappointed, not able to capture what your brain thinks, "such an amazing scene and all I got was this?" Last year we got some nice results at sunset and before. Most of our shots centered around a single berg, bergy bit or growler. There was so much to choose from, ice scattered everywhere, on the beach, in the lagoon. Fast forward one year and things are much different, so little ice compared to last year. Getting compositions with a single bergy bit was nearly impossible. We had to focus on the entire landscape, incorporating what icebergs were present and the ever receding glacier behind the lagoon. Last year's sunset photo at Glacier Lagoon. The warming yellow tones from the sun was a great contract with the coolness of the ice. As we waited for sunset we wondered to ourselves, would tonight be the night? Our sunset shoots on our trip had been less than stellar. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the show began, hypnotizing, mesmerizing me . The colors came from a palette of which I am unfamiliar. Then I felt the rush like a rolling bolt of thunder as the climax occurred. The scene was truly mesmerizing. With sunset completed we had a few hours to kill until it was dark enough to see the northern lights. We made the 25 minute drive back to our hotel for dinner in their restaurant (excellent food at the Foss Hotel, Glacier Lagoon). We each had the salt cod, though that is very much unimportant. At 9:30, the sky very dark, we traveled back to the lagoon, anxious to see what was in store for us. There is no way it could compare to sunset. It was a mostly cloudy night which is not conducive to seeing, much less photographing, the northern lights. This was the most important thing we came to Iceland to see and being shut out so far due to inclement weather was distressing. On the bright side, our KP index was at 4 meaning the aurora is "Active" with bright, constant and dynamic northern lights visible. Sounds perfect if only the clouds would disappear. We set up for our shoot with the hope of using Glacier Lagoon as the foreground, the glaciers as a midground and the aurora is the background, hopefully the star of the show. It was looking bleak but we remained hopeful and ever vigilant with our fingers readied just above the trigger. I did a few test shots to set up the composition. Then we waited and waited and waited some more. After what seemed like hours, we heard a voice behind us deep in the dark. That voice said that the clouds will clear at 11 PM. Could it be the voice of God from behind us? Doubtful unless God speaks in a Japanese accent. We started chatting, photographer to photographer. I was doubting his prognostications, he was talking about something, though I really wasn't listening. Then, lo and behold, right at 11 PM, the clouds started to dissipate. The show was about to begin. It did not disappoint! Why did it take so long to see this light? This scene was hypnotizing. Remember, it's all about the light! What a place, what a night! (special thanks to The Four Seasons for writing such a great song (among many others).

Jeff Dannay, Author at Sweet Light Photos

A New Addition to the Family
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A New Addition to the Family

By Jeff Dannay|2020-01-25T09:54:58-07:00January 25th, 2020|Animals, Arizona, Birds, Landscape, Photography Genres, United States, Wildlife|

Later this year we are traveling to Namibia. For those of you who are geographically challenged, Namibia is in Africa just northwest of South Africa. [...]

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An Unexpected Treat
Gallery

An Unexpected Treat

By Jeff Dannay|2019-12-12T11:14:35-07:00December 12th, 2019|New Mexico, Photography Genres, United States, Wildlife|

If you put yourself at the right location at the right time, you have the best opportunity to get a good photo. We've done this [...]

0

Magical Monument Valley
Gallery

Magical Monument Valley

By Jeff Dannay|2019-10-31T09:00:08-07:00November 1st, 2019|Landscape, Monument Valley, Monument Valley, National Parks, Photography Genres, United States, Utah|

We've been to Monument Valley many times, taken some very nice photos, even doing well in a contest or two. Never was there great atmospheric [...]

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Yellow Fever
Gallery

Yellow Fever

By Jeff Dannay|2020-01-01T17:34:37-07:00October 31st, 2019|Capitol Reef National Park, Landscape, National Parks, Photography Genres|

We caught yellow fever on our trip through Escalante and Capitol Reef. If you don't know, yellow fever is a dangerous disease caused by a [...]

2

I Failed at Camping 101
Gallery

I Failed at Camping 101

By Jeff Dannay|2019-10-24T19:22:56-07:00October 24th, 2019|Landscape, National Parks, Photography Genres, United States, Utah, Vermillion Cliffs National Monument|

I may have failed at camping 101 but I did not fail at photography. I haven't camped since college, a time when young men do [...]

2

The Other Side of Iceland
Gallery

The Other Side of Iceland

By Jeff Dannay|2019-10-17T10:43:12-07:00October 18th, 2019|Animals, Architecture, Fall Foliage, Iceland, International, Landscape, Photography Genres|

We had a plan. It was a good plan. There are many iconic scenes in Iceland, we wanted to capture as many as possible. That [...]

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Icelandic Delicacies
Gallery

Icelandic Delicacies

By Jeff Dannay|2019-10-05T05:36:04-07:00October 5th, 2019|Culture, Iceland, International, Photography Genres|

I wouldn't say I'm adventurous with the foods I will eat. We've traveled all over the world, tried some local specialties, but stopped short of [...]

0

“Oh, What a Night!”
Gallery

“Oh, What a Night!”

By Jeff Dannay|2019-10-02T01:45:52-07:00October 2nd, 2019|Iceland, International, Landscape, Night (Astro), Photography Genres|

Late September here in 2019, what a very special time for me. I'll always remember, what a night. Jökulsárlón Lagoon, or Glacier Lagoon, is a [...]

2

A Tale of Two Waterfalls
Gallery

A Tale of Two Waterfalls

By Jeff Dannay|2019-10-01T04:40:30-07:00September 27th, 2019|Iceland, International, Landscape, Photography Genres|

Godafoss (in Icelandic it means "Waterfall of the Gods") is one of the top tourist attractions in Iceland. We visited it last year with poor [...]

3

Please Don’t Rain on our Parade
Gallery

Please Don’t Rain on our Parade

By Jeff Dannay|2019-09-20T03:33:30-07:00September 20th, 2019|Iceland, Landscape, Photography Genres|

It rains a lot in Iceland. It rained the day we arrived. It rained the next morning too. This was starting to put a damper [...]

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jdannay

About Jeff Dannay

A New Addition to the Family

An Unexpected Treat

Magical Monument Valley

Yellow Fever

I Failed at Camping 101

The Other Side of Iceland

Icelandic Delicacies

“Oh, What a Night!”

A Tale of Two Waterfalls

Please Don’t Rain on our Parade