For now, we drive through almost perfect golden-hour light—the golden hour that lasts all day here. At first it was a bit frustrating, as back-lit storm clouds danced in the volcanic mountains. But we committed to the goal of the South Coast, the good weather and aurora forecasts pulling us onward.
Up early to process a few photos and then a good morning of shop creativity working on shelving in the…
Bats circled around me as I set up some lights. From the rocks above me, in an alcove beyond the rock art, a haunting songbird called in a steady repeat—once every twenty seconds. It’s probably a whippoorwill or something similar.
It was beautiful, and nothing like what I could see with my unaided eye.