Thunderstorms with full sound and light shows moved through the area last night. I was awake for most of it, despite being exhausted from the last two days of migraine. I went home early last night still dealing with the aftereffects.
I considered going out with the camera, since from inside the house it was a very pretty show. And I still haven’t properly captured the lightning. But I didn’t. Getting out of bed just seemed like too much work.
The storms cleared out soon enough that this morning’s walk was no more than potentially damp. I ended up being perfectly dry, of course, because I had my rain gear on. Temperature was back up in the mid 60s with humidity to match, so of course there were bugs to deal with. But that was okay – I had my lemon-eucalyptus spray with me.
The important bit is that I’m feeling more like myself, and able to appreciate the sights the bluff offers. It was a dark morning, though. At ISO 100, I needed a six-second exposure in order to use f/11 – my usual go-to for landscapes.
The clouds were clearing to the north. Kind of made me wonder if I’d have seen the sun, had this day occurred closer to midsummer. As it was, since the sun rose near to due east today, it was fully behind the clouds. Bleah. Thinking ahead to that composite photo I want to create, I wonder what day I should use. Yesterday’s would be acceptable, I suppose. But if tomorrow is cloudy too, this will be the first major quarter where the sun’s been obscured – both spring equinox and summer solstice were bright and clear, with no doubt where the sun was positioned.
My third-shift counterpart on machines was sympathizing with the wretched headache, but she wanted to know why I was still making the climb to take photos. And I told her, “263 sunrises so far. I have to be up there now. Doesn’t matter if I’m ill, or injured, or even dead. I’ll be up there every single morning until the end of the year. Even if I have to crawl up that path.”
Reckon the last two days would prove that, if nothing else.