View allAll Photos Tagged EarlyMorningLight
Half an hour or so after the official sunrise time of 04;44hrs the sun managed to break through the misty and murky sky. A 1/4 black diffusing filter was used on the lens for this image
It isnt very often that I get the opportunity to photograph wildlife whilst it is not yet light. On this day it was also a little bit misty, just after 7am with rain gently falling on the bracken (it really poured down later in the morning) but whilst I had to use a high ISO to get this shot, I accidentally came across this youngster who was on his own and he didnt seem too perturbed by my presence.
The mist has created a heavy dew on the ground so my boots and bottoms of my trousers were thoroughly soaked so it was back home for a change of clothes then a mug of tea and breakfast. 05;43hrs on the 06.05.2022
Listening to the Dawn chorus in the early light rising over the River Leam Valley at 04:58hrs on the 06.05.2022 Sunrise due at 05:26hrs
Immediately before sunrise the sky changed from cool pink to warm orange tones.
Panorama of 6 vertical shots a' 50 mm, assembled and edited in Lightroom. The original pano has 15725 x 6487 pixels, 47 MB (March 16, 2017, 7:05 am).
Unmittelbar vor Sonnenaufgang wechselte der Himmel von kühlem pink zu warmen orange-Tönen.
Panorama aus 6 vertikalen Bildern a' 50 mm, zusammengesetzt und bearbeitet in Lightroom. Das Original-JPG hat 15725 x 6487 Pixel, 47 MB (16.03.2017, 7:05 Uhr).
Danke für deinen Besuch! Thanks for visiting!
bitte beachte/ please respect COPYRIGHT © All rights reserved
For one brief moment this sunrise glowed like fire from the sun. The clouds also took on an ominous significance that foreshadowed the rain that was to come. But in this moment all was calm on the Tamar (kanamaluka).
After the sunrise lightshow in the sky, the early morning light revealed a number of elements that made an interesting composition on the water. With all these pictures in this sunrise shoot, the key was to work quickly in the fast changing light.
There is an old Hebrew hymn that went something like this:
"From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised." (Psalm 113).
That is something modern people find hard to do. But perhaps it has more to do with our confused views of God than it does with reality. At the very least, whatever our metaphysical views, we should be grateful for the experience of life itself. We should greet every sunrise as our last, because one day it will be.
Best viewed full screen.
Many thanks for your visits, kind comments and faves, very much appreciated.
The 30 second exposure here allows us to see the way the clouds are rolling in over Great Oyster Bay. I would classify this as minimalistic despite the three layers in the composition. If you enlarge it you'll see the lights of scattered houses along the shore.
This wide angle shot gives us a view of the far shores of Great Oyster Bay on Tasmania's east coast. I decided to crop this to panoramic format to highlight that band of low lying cloud that stretches right across the water. That's one of the luxuries the Nikon D850 affords.
In the past two days I've shown you the view at Turners Marsh looking west towards the setting moon. Today we get a chance to turn the camera around to the east. This beautiful rural valley is rich pastures for sheep and cattle.
The first thing we notice here is the beautiful early light as the sun makes its way to the horizon. But if you look closely you'll see evidence of a slight overnight frost. To the left under that big old tree you'll see a resting cow taking in the scene. Et in Arcadia Ego.
[If you double click enlarge you can see a Kookaburra on the wire fence behind and to the right of the cow.]
Looking Up 1 London Bridge. I am always fascinated by the many planes and reflections and catching it with the early morning light adds another dimension.
A favorite little village on the way to work. Regulars at the ole swimming hole, I see around 35 goslings every spring.
Have a fabulous Thursday!
The fish are still running ... continuing the flying osprey project - yikes!
Thanks for taking time to visit.
Standing on the fresh pastures at Highfield provides the best view of Stanley. Here we can see how The Nut at 143 metres high protects the town from the prevailing weather conditions and high seas of Bass Strait. In the distance at the far left is Table Cape (also an extinct volcano). On the right is the town's water supply. At the centre of everything (especially in the warm summer months) Stanley's magnificent beach draws holiday makers to swell the permanent population of 550.
Most of the fishing fleet in Stanley now works for the local family owned Hursey Company. They provide a large range of seafood for Tasmanian tables and beyond.
It's fitting that we end this visit to Stanley with the backbone of the local economy. Tourism is increasingly important, but the sea is always going to be central to the identity of Stanley.
Left early last Saturday morning, to arrive at Derwentwater and get in position for dawn.
This tree struggles for sustenance from a crack in the rocks. Some nice pastel shades in the sky and snow on Blencathra in the background.
I was here two weeks ago and the water level was so high, it was impossible to get this shot.
The morning has broken and the sun's rays can be seen illuminating the pink granite rocks on Mount Mayson just across Coles Bay. In the foreground we see some rusty coloured rocks and even a bit of orange lichen.
At sunrise, on a dark windy morning. The Baltic Sea. Varlaxxudden, Porvoo, Finland.
👱♀️🎧 Who Loves The Sun ( Velvet Underground )
The sun has been over the horizon for nearly a hour now and produces some deep shadows on the landscape. There is not a cloud in the sky and that deep blue provides a wonderful backdrop for the impressive Low Head Lighthouse with its big red band of colour.
Since it is late Autumn the direction in which we are looking is West North West as the sun rose from an East North Easterly position. The shadows will give you the idea. The weathervane on top of the lighthouse is showing the direction of the slight breeze.
Not long after I took the photograph of this scene that I posted yesterday, the sun came over the horizon. This is the result. I'm not feeling very patriotic at the moment*, but one can't help but see the traditional Australian colour of the wattle here: Green and gold.
* Those of you who have seen the news footage overseas that many Australians have been denied from seeing by our puppet media in this country will understand exactly what I'm saying. Frankly we're all sick of it.
"Helen Dale: Violent scenes in Australia exposes a characteristic of the whole country." Interview by Neil Oliver with Helen Dale.
The very early morning light catches the mist on Mt Wellington/kunanyi. It burnt off very quickly as you'll see in my next shot. The city of Hobart is just starting to awaken.
"Red sky at night,
Shepherds' delight.
Red sky in the morning,
Sailors' warning."
According to the folk wisdom it was going to rain. And it did, slightly.
The sun rises over this typical farm at Turners Marsh in northern Tasmania. From where I took this shot you can easily work out that I am facing north as the sun streams in from the east. Only the animals have stirred so far, but soon the daily activities will begin in farm life.
Colorful sky before sunrise between Pienza and San Quirico d'Orcia/Tuscany.
Danke für deinen Besuch! Thanks for visiting!
bitte beachte/ please respect Copyright © All rights reserved
The Tamar River in Launceston, Tasmania is now also known by its indigenous name (kanamaluka). With respect to the Tamar River in Cornwell, England - from which our river derived its modern name - I really do love the sound of ka-na-ma-lu-ka. It rolls off the tongue as sweetly as the light from this local sunrise.
Early morning in the Valley of Wittlich near my place of residence (July 3, 2017, 5:31 am).
Früh morgens in der Wittlicher Senke nahe meines Wohnorts 03.07.17, 5:31 Uhr).
Danke für deinen Besuch! Thanks for visiting!
bitte beachte/ please respect Copyright © All rights reserved
Although the cloud cover produced a dull light just after dawn, there was sufficient colour in the air. I do like the way the water has that lovely emerald tone. The blue navigation light at the end of the jetty was flashing every 10 seconds and stands out from the other shore lights in the dark.
[Best viewed enlarged.]
At this stage in the early morning the mist was still clearing from the tops of the trees. Nothing dramatic was happening with the sunlight, but that was to change (as you'll see tomorrow). Those rolling hills provided rich pastures for the grazing cattle. They'd already been out there from before dawn. The rhythm of life continues at a steady pace.
By now the rising sun was beginning make a real difference to the colour. East is left in this picture and although the sun had not quite come over the horizon its golden warming glow is beginning to be felt.
I should tell you a little about Louis-Claude Desaulses de Freycinet (1779–1842), after whom this peninsula is named. He was a renowned French cartographer/surveyor who together with his compatriot, the explorer and sea captain Nicolas Thomas Baudin (1754-1803), circumnavigated the earth and in 1811 produced the most comprehensive map of the Australian coastline to that point.
Baudin had two ships, Le Géographe and Le Naturaliste and took with him a number of scientists, including the naturalist François Péron, and of course the cartographer-surveyor Freycinet.
Both these men's lives are one of dedication to science and the furtherance of knowledge. Baudin is remembered here by Mount Baudin, the second from the left in my picture just below the triangular Mount Dove.
adb.anu.edu.au/biography/freycinet-louisclaude-desaulses-...
[Enlarge to see the light in the cobwebs on the tree.]
This lovely young cow had an itchy back, and simply had to scratch it. It sits in the light at that very moment when the sun emerged from behind the mountains and struck us with a golden glow. But for me the highlight in this picture (the "punctum" as Roland Barthes would have called it), is the way the light catching the cobwebs in the tree matches the way it also catches the wire in the fence which runs down the left side of the picture.
This photograph looks like it's been glued together from two different exposures (for the sky at least). That is purely the result of the brightness of the sun on the left and the relatively darker sky on the right. It is a wide angle shot and cropped, not a true panorama, but it's nice to have so much room to crop with the D850 RAW files.
These rocks are so interesting we'll spend more time examining them tomorrow.