Now that we have some semblance of real winter here in Minnesota (not to mention it's March already!), I suppose it's appropriate to start thinking about spring!

We have had a very dry last half of 2011, so all of the new snow will be a boon to the rivers and those who enjoy viewing the rushing spring waterfalls.

These photographs were made last year from the Wisconsin side of Lake Superior. The falls, known as Morgan Falls, is located about 17 miles south of Ashland in the remote Chequamegon National Forest.

I found the form of this falls to be quite distinct. It is very narrow and cascades down what seems like a hiking trail switchback. The creek then curves sharply and tumbles down another cascade to a pool below.

I have always found the Aurora Borealis, also known as the northern lights, to be a phenomenon that has eluded me for most of my life — actually all of it — until Saturday evening. Pictured here is my first known view of the northern lights in my life!

I first caught sight of the aurora while driving north from Two Harbors to Beaver Bay along Highway 61. It was not a particularly strong light show, but a test shot with my camera upon arriving at Split Rock Lighthouse State Park quickly revealed that this was the real deal and not just some clouds illuminated by distant city lights. Trying to contain my excitement, I quickly slid on my cleats, donned my headlamp, grabbed my camera gear, and dashed down the the dark trail to the lakeshore.

The colors of the aurora were not easy to discern with the naked eye, but with a long (30 second) exposure, the camera allowed some of the dramatic colors to be brought out.

The aurora was there, I was there, and I was thrilled!

With winter largely silent this year, I am glad that I maintain an archive of previously unreleased images to share, including this one from Grand Marais, MN. This image was made in January of 2011 during a winter that was quite the antithesis of the the current winter, with storm after storm pounding the region and ice-cold surf pummeling the North Shore.

With the lake temperature near freezing and everything on land well below freezing, much of the water hurled ashore quickly froze onto whatever surface it made contact with. This included the rocky shore (cleats highly recommended when exploring!) as well as any trees and shrubbery. The ice-coated landscape, by means of wind and water, was an amazing work of art, made by the force of nature through a higher authority. I am pleased to share with you a small part of this icy grandeur.

It's been quite an unusual winter so far here in Minnesota with unseasonably warm temperatures and a lack of that white stuff which half of us love and half of us hate. Photographers looking to capture classic Minnesota winter scenes have been out of luck thus far.

In contrast, in the four years I have been photographing January's full moon at Split Rock Lighthouse, the moon has never failed to make its appearance. Like clockwork, the moon slipped above the horizon, on schedule, at 4:18 PM and continued its ascent as sunlight faded. As the sun set, the eastern sky took on a pink hue that seems to be most evident on these clear winter evenings.


As daylight faded further, the pink transitioned to blue. This period of blue sky is known as the "blue hour" to photographers.

It has been a goal of mine each year to capture the moon centered directly behind the lantern of the lighthouse as it makes its trajectory. This is somewhat challenging as there is only a small window of opportunity in which this shot can be made. Once the moon is above the lighthouse, it is too late.

There is always a sense of awe in watching the full moon in the first minutes after clearing the horizon. Its apparent size seems to, at times, defy the imagination.