This is the first post in a series on how to “do” nature photography in extreme cold weather. Or actually any really cold, windy, snowy, icy, etc. winter weather. This first post is about the “why”, as in why go out in what most would consider lousy winter weather to hike and take photographs. In other posts I cover how to dress and what gear I use under these conditions.
Why go out in sub-zero temperatures with windchill factors of -30 and below?
Why go out during or right after a heavy, wet snowfall?
Why go out during or after an ice storm?
Why leave the warmth and comfort of your home and possibly put your safety at risk?
To be honest, for myself part of the allure is I get a certain satisfaction from doing things which most people think are nuts. I am just wired to be contrary that way and yeah, I’m one of “those” people who is all bright and cheery when the weather is making everyone else crabby. But I do enjoy being outside in miserable weather, on my terms and when I am properly prepared for it which is an important caveat.
More to the point of this post however is that going out to experience and photograph nature in these conditions, you get to see things in person that you would otherwise miss. The photograph at the top of this post is one example. It shows Lake Michigan on a day when the temperatures were below zero degrees F, and 30 mph winds were blowing out over the lake. The cold and very dry air passing over water which was 40 degrees warmer caused steam to rise from the lake. Even though there was a strong wind blowing out onto the lake, strong convection currents just above the water were actually driving the waves and steam into the wind! It was an awesome experience just to stand there on the beach, watching the incredible dynamics at play. I also got a whole series of photographs which most people will never take, and that makes me feel some sense of satisfaction as a photographer. There are however plenty of photographers who go out in these conditions for these purposes, so my images are hardly unique. But there is a sense of accomplishment, which is a big factor that drives me to seek out these opportunities.
Here are some more photographs that illustrate why I find photography in nasty winter weather so rewarding.
This is an image taken close to where I live on the south side of Chicago. It had been a cold winter and a lot of ice had built up along the shore of Lake Michigan. On this day there were 50 mph winds coming off the lake, driving waves into the shoreline. The pounding of the waves busted up the outer parts of the ice shelf, creating a frozen icy slushy which was repeatedly slammed into the remaining solid ice. It was awesome to sit out there, safely back from the shoreline I assure you, and watch the power and spectacle of it all. It also helped me to realize just how dangerous these breaking waves can be, even to people standing well back from the water. Look closely at the center of the photo, where an incoming wave has just impacted the ice shelf. See all of those chunks of ice flying about? Well those pieces of solid ice were about as big as a cannon ball, and they were being tossed around like leaves. Some of these ice balls can end up being tossed more than 100 feet onto land. An unlucky person walking by could easily be killed by such a projectile. Just a reminder that nature is not to be taken lightly.
Another example showing Lake Michigan in sub-zero temperatures, this time during the sunrise. The dense ice shelf which had built up along the shore made the scene look like something from the Arctic. Steam is rising off the lake and the foreground is still backlit by the glow of the rising sun in the east. On the horizon you can see the effect of the warmer air rising from the lake, being held down by the colder and denser air above. Silhouetted against this backdrop is the figure of a fellow photographer who had also gotten up early to go to the lakefront to watch the sunrise in stupid-cold weather.
Another sunrise scene from the same day as the previous photograph. This time the sun has fully risen above the horizon while wisps of steam continue to float up from the lake waters. On the horizon to the right you can see steam from the US Steel Gary Works mill. I purposefully exposed this image to keep the sun from blowing out, which darkens the rest of the scene in a way that I felt captured the essence of the moment.
Here is a scene from a very different wintery day, one which was not bitterly cold. This time I went out early on the day after a heavy, wind driven wet snow storm. If you were more than a mile from the lake the snow on the ground was in no way impressive, just a couple inches. But right up against the lake the scenery was completely different. Every branch of every tree, bush and shrub was coated with an icy snowy mixture which was probably mostly melted away by late afternoon. But I managed to make it out to the Cowles Bog trail in the Indiana Dunes before anyone else that day. So other than the deer and coyote tracks, mine were the first footprints of the day along the trail going all the way out to the beach. Along the way this particular trail traverses several increasingly steep sand dune ridges. When I got to the last ridge before the lake this is what I saw in every direction. It was an incredibly beautiful scene and the heavy snow muffled all sound so it was almost completely silent. There was no wind by this time and everything was so still and peaceful. The hike, up and down the steep sand dunes, wearing heavy winter gear and carrying about 15lbs of camera gear was quite intense. But the experience was so totally worth it. As it happens, this turned out to be one of the very few times I have ever been out on these trails and not seen another person the whole time. In short, it was utterly awesome. And the experience beat the living snot out of staying home in a warm bed all morning.
Yes there are surfers on Lake Michigan. And apparently winter has the best wave action for surfing, at least that is what I am told. That in and of itself is interesting, but what made this photograph really rewarding was the fact that it was -5 degrees F with 30mph sustained winds coming off the lake! I had gone out to the West Beach area of the Indiana Dunes on this day not really knowing what to expect on such a cold and windy day. But one thing I never would have expected would be to find someone out surfing in that weather! No matter how hardcore and crazy you think you are, there is always someone else who takes the crazy to a whole new level. All I can say is those dry suits must really work. I watched this guy for about 15 minutes while he floated in the water waiting for and eventually catching a wave that he could ride all the way into the beach. Moral of the story… you just never know what you are going to see, but you are guaranteed to see nothing if you don’t go out. So go out!
Another scene on the same outing as the previous image of the surfer. Just a little ways down the beach sits the second of two big steel mills which reside next to and within the Indiana Dunes park. The steam rising from heavy industry like this in the bitter cold and dry air is simply amazing. I find it fascinating how the beauty and the incredible biodiversity of the Indiana Dunes ecosystems can coexist alongside these massive steel mills.
Winter conditions certainly produce unique and fascinating landscapes for photography. But I am still drawn to the small details as I walk the trails. This image was taken after a 40 degree overnight temperature drop. The previous day had been almost 50 degrees, then a cold front moved in and the next day was in the teens. This produces a sort of flash freeze effect which can produce some very interesting ice formations where the water is shallow and still, as is the case in the lagoons and panne’s of the Dunes in Miller Woods. Here the quick freezing of the ice created air pockets that produced lovely abstract patterns atop fallen reed stalks.
Click on this image to view it full size and examine it carefully. You will see that this area of ice is filled with frozen bubbles, some stacked one atop another in vertical columns going almost all the way to the bottom of this shallow lagoon. Some of these frozen bubbles appear to be faceted like diamonds. I later learned that this is actually a rare phenomena because the formation of these stacked bubbles requires some very specific conditions. These are not air bubbles, they are bubbles of methane gas, which is released by decaying organic material that rests on the bottom of the lagoon. If the water freezes quickly enough, from the top down, it can encapsulate the rising methane gas in bubbles. If the rate of methane rising from the bottom of the lagoon and the freezing of the water from above are just right, multiple bubbles can be frozen directly atop one another in a vertical line. You can also get bubbles trapped within larger bubbles.
Another closeup photograph, this time of elongated ice crystals which formed on the frozen surface of a pond right after the arrival of a cold front which dropped the temperatures from just above freezing down to -8 degrees F in just a few hours. The long straight crystals formed in the direction of the prevailing wind. It is not common to find such large and well defined crystals of ice.
My final photograph of this post shows that you are never alone on the trail, no matter how cold. On this day I was again the first person to set footprints into the fresh snow on the trail. But nearly the whole way out, from the trail head for over a mile to a lagoon just before the beach, I was following in the very fresh footsteps of a coyote. It had largely followed the trail, only veering away for a short distance on a couple occasions. The tracks were fresh enough that I was hopeful I would eventually be able to spot him. Sure enough, when I got to the edge of a frozen lagoon there he was. He immediately saw me, whereupon he sat down on the ice for a bit to watch me and occasionally scratch himself while I took his photograph. Eventually he got bored with me, wandered off and I never saw him again. Now for the record, I never go out onto ice in these conditions. I know a little about how to read the ice, but not enough to take any risks. Even if the ice is in an area where the water is only 6 inches deep, if you break through and fall into the water you are suddenly soaking wet, in windy sub-zero temperatures, over a mile from the trail head where you left your car and at least a half mile hike cross country to the nearest human habitation. Hypothermia is no joke, it can set in fast and it is deadly. It is just not worth the risk to go out on the ice, no matter how solid it appears to be.