Partial Failure
As Roseanne Roseanna Danna once said, "It's always something!" For the eclipse of 2017, my efforts at photography were partially sabotaged by a tripod that decided to give up the ghost just as I was setting up to capture an image. I was then forced to take its portrait with a camera held only as steady as my hands would allow. At an effective 405mm they weren't steady enough, until the moment the sun began to peak out from behind the moon. I then had enough light that the shutter speed was "fast" enough (1/40) that by a miracle I got a decent shot--though I risked serious eye injury (see: www.flickr.com/photos/80014607@N05/38000033724/in/datetaken/). This time, I insured that my tripod was sound. I intended to use my 200-600mm lens (at 500mm as above that the lens isn't as sharp), so with the slightly longer lens and a much superior camera, I had every expectation of obtaining a superior shot.
That effort, IMO, as the title would suggest, was not successful. First, though I set my lens at 500mm, somehow I accidentally changed it to 400mm as I struggled with a loose quick-release plate. Secondly, I overexposed every shot. In retrospect, I should have HDR'd the thing. It was particularly galling that the area close to the moon was completely blown (even though I shot in RAW) as unlike the 2017 eclipse, this one came equipped with sizeable solar flares--so large you could easily see them with the naked eye. The one near the lunar south pole extended quite a bit beyond the black disc--making the eruption several times bigger than out entire planet (you can see an indication of its existence--just barely--looking just slightly right of the southernmost point of the moon). Grrrr. Well, there's another occurring in 2026 over Europe. Perhaps I'll try again then.
I added a little color to make the striations easier to see.
I originally set myself down in Metropolis, Illinois the evening before the event because the weather maps seemed to indicate an excellent chance of blue skies the next day in the area. By the time I arrived, however, those maps had changed a bit, and it seemed that Southern Missouri and Northcentral Arkansas were better options. So, I headed for Poplar Bluff, MO (which I saw as a mid-point between options) where I spent the night in a Walmart parking lot (the motels were long since booked). My thought was that, in the AM, after looking at the updated maps, I could decide whether to go back to Southern Illinois, stay in Poplar Bluff, or head toward Northcentral Arkansas. Those maps told me nothing for certain the next AM. So, I sat tight for a while until quite a few high clouds began to move in from the south. It looked bluer in the west toward more central Missouri, so I hopped in my car and drove that direction like mad. Totality was only two hours away so I didn't have long, especially since it would take a bit to set up. After setting out, I checked the maps again, and it looked completely clear around the little town of West Plain, MO. That was my target, though I doubted I would reach it in time, but I would at least get closer to those blue skies.
With the sun covered by 25% (I was listening to a report on the radio), I settled for the parking lot of an abandoned convenience store in the middle of nowhere, off US 160 west of Doniphan, MO. There were about 10 others sitting about with lawn chairs, binoculars, and a couple of small telescopes. They were happy to have me join them, and it was certainly more pleasant to engage in conversation while we all stared upward. And of course, my failures aside, it was a glorious sight to behold as the sun slipped behind our companion moon.
It's unfathomable to me that while I and my ad hoc companions Oooooo'd and ahhhhhh'd at the sight, a couple of vehicles drove past--mid totality--as if such things were an everyday occurrence in Ripley County Missouri. How can such people exist? I mean, to each her/his own, but it's beyond my capacity to understand it.
Interesting side note: I took 90 photos of the eclipse, and of those 90, about 25 had the disk of the moon distorted into either an oblong shape or a flattened one. I cannot for the life of me imagine why that occurred. Clearly, the shape of the moon had not changed, so why had these images? It was the same lens and camera for each shot. Any physicists out there?
Partial Failure
As Roseanne Roseanna Danna once said, "It's always something!" For the eclipse of 2017, my efforts at photography were partially sabotaged by a tripod that decided to give up the ghost just as I was setting up to capture an image. I was then forced to take its portrait with a camera held only as steady as my hands would allow. At an effective 405mm they weren't steady enough, until the moment the sun began to peak out from behind the moon. I then had enough light that the shutter speed was "fast" enough (1/40) that by a miracle I got a decent shot--though I risked serious eye injury (see: www.flickr.com/photos/80014607@N05/38000033724/in/datetaken/). This time, I insured that my tripod was sound. I intended to use my 200-600mm lens (at 500mm as above that the lens isn't as sharp), so with the slightly longer lens and a much superior camera, I had every expectation of obtaining a superior shot.
That effort, IMO, as the title would suggest, was not successful. First, though I set my lens at 500mm, somehow I accidentally changed it to 400mm as I struggled with a loose quick-release plate. Secondly, I overexposed every shot. In retrospect, I should have HDR'd the thing. It was particularly galling that the area close to the moon was completely blown (even though I shot in RAW) as unlike the 2017 eclipse, this one came equipped with sizeable solar flares--so large you could easily see them with the naked eye. The one near the lunar south pole extended quite a bit beyond the black disc--making the eruption several times bigger than out entire planet (you can see an indication of its existence--just barely--looking just slightly right of the southernmost point of the moon). Grrrr. Well, there's another occurring in 2026 over Europe. Perhaps I'll try again then.
I added a little color to make the striations easier to see.
I originally set myself down in Metropolis, Illinois the evening before the event because the weather maps seemed to indicate an excellent chance of blue skies the next day in the area. By the time I arrived, however, those maps had changed a bit, and it seemed that Southern Missouri and Northcentral Arkansas were better options. So, I headed for Poplar Bluff, MO (which I saw as a mid-point between options) where I spent the night in a Walmart parking lot (the motels were long since booked). My thought was that, in the AM, after looking at the updated maps, I could decide whether to go back to Southern Illinois, stay in Poplar Bluff, or head toward Northcentral Arkansas. Those maps told me nothing for certain the next AM. So, I sat tight for a while until quite a few high clouds began to move in from the south. It looked bluer in the west toward more central Missouri, so I hopped in my car and drove that direction like mad. Totality was only two hours away so I didn't have long, especially since it would take a bit to set up. After setting out, I checked the maps again, and it looked completely clear around the little town of West Plain, MO. That was my target, though I doubted I would reach it in time, but I would at least get closer to those blue skies.
With the sun covered by 25% (I was listening to a report on the radio), I settled for the parking lot of an abandoned convenience store in the middle of nowhere, off US 160 west of Doniphan, MO. There were about 10 others sitting about with lawn chairs, binoculars, and a couple of small telescopes. They were happy to have me join them, and it was certainly more pleasant to engage in conversation while we all stared upward. And of course, my failures aside, it was a glorious sight to behold as the sun slipped behind our companion moon.
It's unfathomable to me that while I and my ad hoc companions Oooooo'd and ahhhhhh'd at the sight, a couple of vehicles drove past--mid totality--as if such things were an everyday occurrence in Ripley County Missouri. How can such people exist? I mean, to each her/his own, but it's beyond my capacity to understand it.
Interesting side note: I took 90 photos of the eclipse, and of those 90, about 25 had the disk of the moon distorted into either an oblong shape or a flattened one. I cannot for the life of me imagine why that occurred. Clearly, the shape of the moon had not changed, so why had these images? It was the same lens and camera for each shot. Any physicists out there?