Bluff Sunset

The weather and the light in the area of my new home can be amazingly beautiful. We've "enjoyed" a sinister heat wave here for the past week or so—it's gotten up to 63 degrees*, and day after day has been in the 50s. Our snow is gone and the days are sunny, or partially cloudy, and Springlike. It's extremely pleasant as well as naggingly frightening. Yesterday afternoon, walking the dog, the light was just astounding—the sun peeking through the clouds and playing off the lake, the air pearly with moisture. Like walking through some mystical fantasyland from a fairy tale. I've been lax; I should never go anywhere without a camera. Never. Anywhere.

One of the peculiarities of the area is that Keuka Bluff, which rises steeply more than 700 feet above lake level, is quite close, because the lake is narrow. It blocks maybe ten degrees up from the horizon. So from where I am, the sun "sets" behind the Bluff something like 15 or 20 minutes before it sets behind the curvature of the Earth. The light in those minutes is interesting—it extends the period of dusk. I've come to call this "Bluff sunset," and I've made a game of trying to detect, just from the change in the light, the moment of actual sunset. I've gotten pretty good at it.

Bluff sunset leads to some spectacular views, most of which I miss because I don't have an unobstructed view from my house. But yesterday evening I stopped the car at one of the few cleared areas along the two-lane highway up above me because I saw a patch of blue sky through some dark clouds. Here's the picture I stopped for...

...Not that big a deal. But once I was out of the car, I noticed that the ridge of the bluff to the South looked almost exactly like it was on fire, because the sun was approaching the ridgeline from above...

So I decided to wait around. Here's the sun "setting" behind the Bluff...

But then here's what I thought was really cool. For a few minutes after the sun itself disappeared but still before sunset, the clouds let some rays through from the other side of the Bluff...

Isn't that cool? It was just intensely pretty. I hadn't expected it at all.

I think people here drive right past sights like this. It's just ordinary. No big deal. Makes me wonder how much I miss around this area all the time.

Meanwhile, looking more to the North, you could still see plain blue sky past the clouds, because the sun was actually still above the real horizon.

Maybe somebody can fill in some of the terms I'm missing here...are there actual names for when the sun "sets" behind a mountain, or for when it sets below the theoretical horizon? I don't know any meteorological or astronomical terminology.

Anyway, it kind of made up for earlier in the day, when I'd seen that magical light at lakeside but didn't have a camera.

A micro-blizzard
A few weeks ago I experienced another amazing thing (did I write about this already? I can't remember). It was a mainly clear day and I was out in the back yard flinging the ball for Butters, and I saw a vast lump of bizarrely dark cloud mass start to loom over the Bluff; but I could see blue sky on either side of it. As it grew, it became obvious that there was snow falling furiously beneath it, and that it was headed straight at us and moving fast. The falling snow obscured the far shore of the lake behind a veil of undifferentiated gray, then moved across the lake, and before I knew it we were right under it, Butters and I. The light darkened dramatically and the sky above was dark, and we were buffeted by winds knocking this way and that, and snow was flying, falling in thick swirls. As the cloudmass continued to move off to the East, there were just a scant few astonishing minutes when I could look toward the waterfall in the southwest corner of my yard and see a virtual blizzard, with snow falling thickly and the sky a grim dark gray—and then turn around a hundred and eighty degrees and look out toward the lake, from the direction the snow-squall had just come from—and see nothing but sun and blue sky again, the far shore clear and sharp! A few minutes more and the cloud-mass was gone past the steep hills, and nothing was changed from before—a pleasant, sunny, clear, blue-sky day, only now there was a frosting of snow on the grass and the trees.

Less than half an hour more, and that was gone too. Just an isolated snow-squall barreling along from West to East, and we happened to be right under its path.

The Finger Lakes. I'll tell ya, it's a show.

Mike

*68°F today. Creepy.

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(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

giulio croce: "That's the reason why I love photography. It forced me to look, and thus allowed me to see."

David Babsky: "Regarding 'a micro-blizzard,' when I first visited New York (in 1984, I think) the doorman at the Empire State Building—which was just about to close for the day—told me that sometimes it's bright and sunny down at street level, as it was that day, but occasionally, while that's happening down there, there's snow swirling right up at the top! Wow. I took the last lift skywards...and there, at the top, there was indeed snow falling, but the updrafts never let the snow drop as far as the street below. What a sensational delight!"

Steve Rosenblum: "I know what you mean by everyone there driving by these scenes as though they are routine. Lately, I have been trying to force myself of turn off NPR during my half hour drive to and from work, turn on my 'mindfulness,' and truly allow myself to be in the moment. I live in Ann Arbor and drive on an interstate-like highway to and from work through the suburbs of SE Michigan. One of the things I've noticed is that very often the sky looks really amazing. Here's the thing—I spend a lot of time in the Rocky Mountain West (Colorado, Montana, Utah). Out there in 'Big Sky' country, I always notice and pay attention to the sky because it does indeed look huge and dramatic. However, I have realized by actually trying to stay in the moment during my Michigan suburban commute that the sky here is often equally amazing looking. It's the 'frame' and my own expectations that are different. A sky framed by 14,000 foot mountains seems different than one framed by highway exits, subdivisions, and strip malls. After a lifetime of driving these routes I have trained myself to tune out during these times. But...when I pay attention, there it is! The same amazing sky with all of its variations of colors, clouds, and light. As Jon Kabat-Zinn said, 'Wherever you go, there you are.' Your friend, Steve (almost the suburban Buddha) Rosenblum."

Rod: "I live in Tasmania. A giant island on the cusp of several weather channels. We used to be known for our regular 'four seasons in one day,' but with weather patterns changing, it looks like we may be the stable place to live! I remember driving from sunshine at my house, 45 kilometers to a nearby mountain (Mt. Barrow), camping in two feet of snow and coming home to sunshine, in the middle of Summer. Not unusual, but becoming less unusual worldwide. Now we sit sit back and watch as wild weather batters the mainland (Australia)."

Bourquek: "I'm a lifelong fan of meteorology and astronomy, so I'm always looking up, and I encourage others to do so. Clouds are an amazing, ever-changing show. Some people don't even know if it's cloudy or sunny out...I guess we just live in different worlds. Not too long ago I located the planet Venus in the mid-day sky. With the aid of binoculars I was able to show it to a number of people. Who knew such magic was right over our heads.  ;-)  "

Comments

[Tom Frost]

"crepuscular" rays, when you are looking towards the sun. "anticrepuscular" rays when looking down the sun rays.

[Kenneth Tanaka]

"It's a show", all right. But as lovely as sunset/sunrise images can be (and yours are) have you ever noticed how inadequate they seem. Regardless of print/display scale and fidelity they pale against the actual witness experience. I've just returned from over a week in the middle of the Pacific, so this is a subject near my mind at the moment. In fact, that's largely true for landscape photographs in general; they are pale mementos of the witness experience. You just can't adequately bottle that multi-sensory stuff.

Anyway, this site should help you with your sunset/sunrise terminology, Mike.

[expiring_frog]

The Finger Lakes have gorges sunsets. Here are some we took near (I think) Skaneatles Lake a couple of years ago. iPhone 4S straight out of camera, no postprocessing. The best camera etc...

[James]

Mike, It's great to see you posting pictures!
Just think, that camera is now 50% better than it was previously, and you are a 50% better photographer than previously.
According to an article posted yesterday by TOP that is.
Keep up the good work.
;-)

[David W. Scott]

Glad you are enjoying the show Mother Nature puts on in your new neighbourhood. I grew up in Fort Erie, near Buffalo NY. The microclimates around both the Great Lakes and the Finger Lakes make for fascinating, and fast moving, skies.

It may be apocryphal, but it's said that Buffalo devotes a higher percentage of their nightly newscasts to weather than anywhere else in the world. Makes sense when you see the wild variability.

[Mark Sampson]

It's true, there is spectacular light, and weather, to be found in the Finger Lakes, and good photographs too, if you're ready when it happens. Here's a rather obvious tip; next time you see that 'bluff light', turn around to see what it's lighting up.

[Ed Kirkpatrick]

If you go to Wunderground's weather page for your area, I used Hammondsport, under the 10day forecast you will see the astronomy section where the different times for sunset and sunrise are shown. Actual, Civil, Nautical and Astronomical are the four shown with definitions if you hover your mouse over the text.
https://www.wunderground.com/q/zmw:14840.1.99999

[Hélcio J. Tagliolatto]

"I've been lax; I should never go anywhere without a camera. Never. Anywhere."

Man...this happened to me yesterday, travelling home. Where is my camera?? Where is my spirit, my good will from the days of youth??

[It's not gone, Hélcio! We just need to stay in touch with it is all. --Mike]

[Dave Van de Mark]

Mike,
I loved your photos of the clouds, pockets of blue sky and sun rays that beautifully illustrate your "advance" sunsets behind Keuka Bluff. Yeah, just ahead of the "real" sunset at the horizon! And in my rain soaked coastal Northern California, we occasionally have something very similar, caused by a "wall" of fog coming in off the ocean, that looks eerily similar to those grim dust bowl scenes of the 30's. These "banks" of fog normally arrive in late Spring to early Summer. The sun sets behind the fog bank and - as you nicely described - creates a longer period of dusk. It's not quite the same effect because your bluff is solid and the fog bank's edge, in particular, allows some light through.

However, the element of your essay that most caught my eye, and which is also a reflection of my region's "waaaaaaay too early" Springs, were your words "...extremely pleasant as well as naggingly frightening."

[Michael Perini]

I have long said that there is magic in places where land and sea and sky meet. I wrote it about the ocean but it is true of large lakes as well. Dorothea Lange said that "a camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera"
In the landscape , patience is almost always rewarded , picture or not.
Even at the seashore, on cloudy days there is sometimes a moment when the setting sun peeks through and illuminates the clods fro below, and everything is transformed from blue gray to yellow gold for a minute or two.
The trick is to be there in grateful anticipation
m

[MikeR]

Creepy indeed. Here in SE PA, we have 70 right now.

We've taken several family vacations at Keuka, and I've learned always to have a camera with me. Come the last week in August, we'll be there again, this time on East Bluff Drive. While I prefer your side of the "Y," maybe the sunrises will be as interesting as the sunsets - if I get up that early, that is.

[Roger Bradbury]

68ºF! Just right for black and white developer, then!

[Geoffrey Heard]

Aliens, Mike. Said just like that farmer bloke near the beginning of MIB. LOL.

Cheers, Geoff

[Geoffrey Heard]

The other side of that bluff sunset (it is just bluffing, you know!) is sunset from a plane where you get the opposite effect. I have caught that just occasionally and got a good picture just once. Wonderful.

Cheers, Geoff

[Michael]

Thanks for that. And for the theme of waking up and being present. Some years ago I went from using the camera for illustrative professional purposes to walking around to find what I could find. And as I re-learned how to look, I also began, surprise surprise, to hear things I had never heard before: remarks in the street, the cathedral bells, the distant train going through. So evidently it's not just about seeing.

[Bryce Lee]

I live at the northwest corner of Lake Ontario Burlington) , Hamilton is more or less at the very end. Weather is strangely predictable, up to a point. On the top of the Niagara Escarpment where the majority of the residents of Hamilton live it be can cold, blowing snow, whereas down below, no snow at all. Tuesday morning (Feb.21) when this current warm weather pattern was starting to really appear, My whole area was enveloped in a very dense pea-soup fog for most of the day; on top of the Escarpment it was clear, sunny and warm. Blame the closeness of Lake Ontario for some of that fog; and that same evening, was at a favourite location on the top of the escarpment , trackside photographing trains and the sunset was actually wonderful. In the finger Lakes you have at the very north Lake Ontario and then the small narrow lakes; they all affect the climate...you're in a good location Mike.

[Dennis Ng]

4 seasons in 1 minute drive north passing Black Pool in Dec 1998. Still remember that.

[David Dyer-Bennet]

Yep, love the rays coming up from the low sun.

[Geoffrey Heard]

Just remembered I have a photo on the internet showing that sunset from a plane when I had the opposite of your bluff effect. https://www.dpreview.com/galleries/5951224179/photos/2724594/13-10-17-p9272247-kavieng-sunset

The flight was about 30 minutes late, we should have landed before sunset in Kavieng, New Ireland, in the New Guinea Islands, but we had been held up at the previous stop, Rabaul, New Britain.

There were rain storms around (this is the tropics and that was the monsoon season) and as we approached Kavieng the sun was long set in the town but for us was still setting into the clouds. The effect you see lasted only a couple of minutes but I had my (m43!) camera in hand and grabbed the shot. Two or three others were good, but not as spectacular as this one.

[k4kafka]

So, "Climate Change" can be a good thing, right...?

[I would say it's the least good thing since the beginning of civilizations roughly five to seven thousand years ago. --Mike]

[DavidB]

Your fourth image shows a nice example of crepuscular rays. Here's an example with above and below cloud rays taken in Arizona...

...which nicely matches the AZ state flag

[Moose]

"That's the reason why I love photography. It forced me to look, and thus allowed me to see."

Thanks, Giulio, for such a poetic and succinct way of putting something I have found to be true for me!*

I've had people say to me that by carrying my camera, I miss seeing the world directly. While that may be true for them, it isn't for me.

Walking about alone, I tend to get lost in my head. Walking with others, I tend to engage with them, and miss what's around us.

With camera in hand, a good part of my conscious mind, and some part of my subconscious, are paying attention to my surroundings, looking for interesting visuals. It works! I see more of what's around me than most people I walk with. Much isn't photogenic, but worth experiencing, and the rest gets to be recorded.

Part of my enjoyment is afterword showing the things I've seen and captured to others who were there - and didn't see many of those things.
~~~~~~

* And more poetically than Dorothea Lange.

[Carl]

Maybe you have to grow up in the Midwest, or at the seashore, to expect to see the actual horizon. I've lived in NJ, PA, and CT, and never had a view from home that didn't cut off the horizon with the nearest hill.

[Joe]

"I should never go anywhere without a camera. Never. Anywhere."

I feel your pain.

[Herb Cunningham]

no creepiness to worry about the warm weather, so my meteorologist says, it does not necessarily agur intensely hot summer.

About the photos: Yogi said: You can see a lot by looking.

[Anthony Shaughnessy]

I usually like to take pictures in hilly areas. When the sun sets behind high hills the effect is rarely as good as when it sets at the "real" horizon. For some reason, the hilly areas I go to were designed with valleys that seem mostly to run north-south, so finding spots where there is a "real" sunset is a map-reading challenge.
Anthony

[Brian Taylor]

Nice observation Mike. Hopefully you'll report back on what else you find, from time to time.

Where we live, in the North of England, the hills rise about 500 feet above the valley, so we get quite similar light effects, which vary according to the season of course. In mid-summer the Sun sets far enough to the North West to cast dramatic orange and/or red light on the top of the moor opposite us. A sort of mini Ayers Rock happens, for a brief but quite spectacular moment that I still can't resist photographing (after 40 years). Around the Winter Solstice the Sun sets behind the hill by around 2.30 p.m.

I love it when fast moving clouds send those searchlight beams racing across the hills, when the Moon rises above the opposite horizon, when the Sun sets and in an instant 'switches off' the light across a whole expanse of fields, when heavy rain falls horizontally along the other side of the valley (which is quite narrow) and its dry where we are, when there's a temperature inversion on a cold autumn morning and you can look down on a moving lake of mist from the top of the hill. I could go on ... :)

[Scott Saltman]

https://goo.gl/photos/7ZWzMLtjU9hcJ6ck7

I'm sure it's the physicist/astronomer in me, but I'm always looking up. In October I came upon this scene on my school campus in New Hampshire. I took out my iPhone and started photographing what was actually a 360 degree display of solar phenomena across the sky. Most people walked right by me. A few stopped to ask what I was photographing - it boggled my mind that they didn't notice. For those interested, the photo includes 2 sundogs, a corona, a parhelic circle (which actually extended around the whole sky), and either an upper tangent arc or%2 0a Parry arc.

[Moose]

"In fact, that's largely true for landscape photographs in general; they are pale mementos of the witness experience. You just can't adequately bottle that multi-sensory stuff."

This reminds me of a quote from Galen Rowell

"One of the biggest mistakes a photographer can make is to look at the real world and cling to the vain hope that next time his film will somehow bear a closer resemblance to it."