Picture: Two birds in flight through a solar ice halo, San Francisco, California
Last year I was testing out a new camera next to a parking lot near the San Francisco Int’l Airport. I was actually there to do some quality tests on a lens that was on loan from Nikon Professional Services, namely the 80-400 f4.5-5.6 VR. Walking back to my truck after shooting some pictures of shorebirds and airplanes, I noticed this 22-degree solar ice halo high up in the sky. These are formed by refracted sunlight bouncing off of tiny ice crystals at very high altitude. Usually they are a precursor to an approaching cold storm front, and are often seen mixed with thin cirrus (horsetail) clouds. I switched to my 17-35 f2.8 lens and started taking a couple photos of the halo by itself. I then found the closest thing I could use to block the sun, allowing the halo and blue sky to become more prominent without a big huge blinding white spot in the middle of the frame. That thing turned out to be a lamp post. In order to get the shot I wanted, I had to lay with my back on the ground looking up. As soon as I had framed this shot, a single bird flew off the lamp. I instictively hit the shutter – almost as if by surprise. The odd part was that I hadn’t even noticed the bird until (s)he took off. Thanks to having a digital camera, I could tell I got the shot, even though the bird was a bit out of focus due to a slower shutter speed. I wanted to try and get that shot again, so I walked away a few feet, sat, and watched. After a few minutes, two more pigeons landed on the light. This time was much harder. The first time was an accident. Now I had the pressure of trying to re-create the shot again, and straining against the patience I was forced to endure, waiting for the moment. I would say I waited with the camera held up to my eye, pre-focused, finger on the button, for at least five minutes. About then, a third pigeon came and landed on the light. I could feel the bird tension rising in the tiny area atop the light. This time I was ready, and as soon as the first two birds took off; click.
For more cool info and pictures, visit Atmospheric Optics