As I wrote in my last entry, for Day 25, the northern lights were visible shortly after the sun set today, much earlier than other nights I've seen them when the peak is around 2-4am. It was just after midnight when we could see the trails of green haze across the sky, diffuse auroras. At 1pm they solidified into ribbons and I started setting up my camera and tripod. I got a few shots in before the sky exploded with light. The auroras were so intense I couldn't decide which way to try to photograph them, and finally decided I should give up and just enjoy them for a bit. It was incredible. Overhead and filling much of the sky was an almost solid, bright green that lit up the night. Between this and the horizon were endless ribbons in a rainbow of colors, green, purples, blues, pinks. I wish I could have gotten video. After this display calmed down, I finished finding a good direction for some shots, settling on trying to get the cabins in the frame.
The rest of the night, there were occasional bright lateral ribbons that developed out of the vertical hazy curtains of green. The vertical streaks of light fade and grow, at times so quickly that the light is dancing in lines. As the night went on, the whole sky was a diffuse green haze. Late, after 3am, I decided to call it a night and went back to my camera. The sky was so full of these streaks of haze that I decided to try a couple photos to see if they would turn out. Then I looked up overhead and immediately had chills. Overhead, the perspective was different and instead of seeing the streaks from the side, I was looking up into the vertical streaks. It looked like they were coming from infinity and reaching down all around me. It was very disorienting and very, very cool.
Since many have been asking me to explain what causes the phenomenon of the auroras, here's a link to a site that does so in a simple way, for those who don't know or remember learning in science class: http://www.northernlightscentre.ca/northernlights.html
Some of the first stronger ribbons of light, over the Tukrok River.
Sometimes the ribbons stay stretched out, sometimes the swirl back in on themselves, giving the look of curtains fluttering overhead.
With the Anigaaq cabins.
I love how this picked up on the purples in the sky, and that these lined up with the little chimney pipe. This place is magical, but maybe not quite that magical.
In this one you can kind of make out the vertical lines of light. In life, they are clear and distinct as they dance around.
Here you can see the purples, and the vertical lines of light that solidify at the bottom. I think you have to be there to see how much it looks like curtains.
Across the river the light got intense and focused.
The green haze that continued through the night.
What photos can't capture is how the lights can start at one horizon and continue overhead all the way to the other horizon. It's awesome and makes you feel tiny.
This was a very strange shape. Would have been interesting to see how the edges continued past the horizon.
The haze became very streaky, with areas where the stars and sky could peak through.
Looking the other direction, just after the last photo.
Looking up overhead. This is what it looked like, but imagine seeing this filling the sky above you, seeming to stretch down on all sides.
Another overhead shot. So amazed that these turned out at all.
I was up around 10am again, got packed up and ready for the day. Brian again made breakfast, this time pancakes and eggs with potatoes, peppers, and onions. We had to keep the gear load light today to fit everyone into the two boats for the long ride to Krusenstern Lagoon. I risked pulling out my camera and took lots of photos along the way. It was about an hour and a half ride along the river and then into an extensive maze of waterways in a massive wetlands area. The drivers kept the GPS running to stay on course, and even so we ended up off track for a bit.
Krusenstern Lagoon is huge, about five miles across from the side we were on. You almost can't make out the land on the other side. The crew set nets and got to work setting, hauling in, and documenting the catch before releasing the fish back to the lagoon.
We had landed on a spit between the lagoon and the marsh/ponds/water channels. There are so many birds here. We're a little late in the season, but it's easy to see why this is an important migratory area. Among the many species are sandhill cranes, a favorite of mine. I've been lucky enough to watch them migrate across Badlands National Park three years in a row, in masses so dense they darken the sky and fill the air with sound. It's very cool to get to see some in their northern destination, heading south on the long journey to Nebraska.
On the other side of the spit were marshy grasses that supported weight and I spent time exploring that area. In one place there were bird tracks in the algae/muck that was just below the water. The research crew often sees musk oxen here, but unfortunately we weren't so lucky.
In the evening half the group boated back to camp, Kevin stayed on the shore, and three of us set out in a boat across the lagoon to an island where earlier this summer a pair of Caspian Terns were spotted, nesting. This is now the northernmost known nesting pair, and we wanted to check on the offspring. There was one juvenile left, and as we got close they all flew off. There are many gulls nesting on the same island, and their young were sitting along the shoreline. As we crossed the lagoon, we had a view of the end of the ridge that stretches along the north side of the water. This ridge is the most distant ridge you can see from Kotzebue, and I've watched it with the setting sun many times. I loved getting to see it up close as well, it offers a more complete context for the next time I look towards Krusenstern from Kotzebue: I now know what lies at the base of that ridge.
We boated back to pick up Kevin, then head back to camp, taking a different route, closer to the ocean. Again there were many birds, including a family of tundra swans. As we got closer, the parents took off, circling to wait for their offspring, who struggled to take flight, and failed. He clearly can't quite fly yet, but he kept trying, going in the same direction as our boat so each time he got ahead a safe distance and stopped, we would catch up and he'd try to take off again. Eventually he figured out to go sideways up onto the shore and ran off a bit. We felt terrible disturbing him, but there were no other routes to go, and we kept it slow and gentle. The light was amazing for the ride back, and the waterways and river were very calm.
After returning to camp and unpacking, I headed down to the water to juggle a bit (long story), and rolled up my pants and ran into the ocean as well. It was sunny and just warm enough that the cold water felt refreshing, so I also dunked my head in for a rinse. I then settled in to paint while Brian cooked dinner: a brisket in the dutch oven, cooked in the fire on the beach. He put squash in the fire to cook as well, and there were beans and sauteed peppers, onions, and cabbage. It was all delicious.
After dinner there was a big fire on the beach, and the auroras began flaring up very soon after the sun set; it was still quite light on the horizon. I set up my camera and tripod to try to capture them, and was moderately successful. I gave up for a while when the lights became intense, it was too hard to figure out where to point the camera and I just wanted to enjoy them. The Alaska residents in the group said it was one of the best displays they had ever seen. I'll do a separate post with more details and images. I headed to bed after 3am, yet again.
Heading up the Tukrok River towards Krusenstern Lagoon.
A maze of waterways, hard to see from this angle. At the base of that ridge on the right is the lagoon.
Looking toward the ocean, so many birds through here, I can only imagine what it was like at peak migratory season.
Convening to figure out which way we go.
Last stretch before the lagoon entrance.
Into the lagoon.
Looking on the other side of the spit of land from the lagoon.
Some late season daisies.
Setting a net in the lagoon.
Headed out to set a net out in the lagoon.
I love how the grasses provide a break that stops the waves.
Walking out on the grasses.
So many bird tracks in the muck under water.
Walking out on the grasses into the marsh.
Looking back toward our landing spot.
Looking toward the ocean from our spit of land.
Checking nets.
Measuring and documenting.
Lavaging a fish before releasing back into the lagoon.
Heading out to check on a net.
Ready to pull this one in.
Gathering fish into a bucket of water to hold for examining and documenting.
Crew shot.
Getting ready to head out.
Ready to shoot (photo) or film some birds!
A view of the end of the ridge. We were working on the shoreline at the right edge of this shot.
Caspian Tern family.
Caspian Tern.
Nesting gulls and little ones.
Boating back across the lagoon view of the end of the ridge.
Such a large lagoon.
A last view from the shore at Krusenstern Lagoon.
Leaving the lagoon.
Mount Noak.
More birds and a last close look at the ridge here.
The stillness was remarkable.
Watching these tundra swans take off was loud and really cool, to be so close.
Mom and dad took off, but junior can't quite get there.
Trying, so hard, to get away from us. We felt terribly, but I was able to get a neat series of photos.
Finally! He figured out he could hop up on land.
Mount Noak on the right.
Identifying bird species on our way.
The ridge at Krusenstern Lagoon in the distance. I think by this point we were onto the Tukrok River, or else somewhere in the waterways leading to it.
Anigaaq in the far distance.
There's a post card in the visitor's center of these bones. Wish I'd wandered far enough down the river to discover them before, when there was time to go get photos.
Anigaaq.
Another flowering plant. At some point I'll get all my detailed plant photos identified so I can make a post of just them.
I love these cabins.
Juggling flat rocks in the Arctic Ocean.
Proof I was at Anigaaq.
The dinner fire...dutch oven and squash roasting away in there.
Sunset over the old mail station.
Anigaaq.
Anigaaq with ocean on the left and river on the right.
A flock of birds over the Tukrok.
Krusenstern Lagoon and Anigaaq (marked with white dot).
Again, for context, here's a link to a map marking Krusenstern Lagoon and Anigaaq Ranger Station.
If you zoom in you can really see the maze of water and marsh. The water here, even in the lagoon, is all about 6 feet deep or less. You can also clearly see the beach ridges south of the lagoon, this area has been inhabited for over 5,000 years and is an ongoing, important archaeological site. If you're curious to read more, the NPS and Wikipedia have some good information:
