June’s photo of the month comes from one of my favorite summer places–Mono Lake. Located at the base of the eastern Sierra Nevada mountains, Mono Lake is one of the few remnants of Ice Age lakes in the West that is still a year-round lake. The lake has persisted for more than 730,000 years, but faces an uncertain future from both natural and man-made causes. The lake is very alkaline and since 1941, has become moreso, due to the diversion of freshwater springs into the Los Angeles aqueduct. By 1982, the lake’s level had dropped 45 feet, exposing something that makes Mono unique: curious brown structures called tufa towers. Tufa towers are deposits of calcium carbonate (due to calcium present in underwater freshwater springs, and carbonate in the lake water).
Over Memorial Day weekend, we visited the eastern Sierra on a family camping trip, and I was able to sneak out to make this image Sunday night. I haven’t done many star field shots, but this one really captures the essence of the lake for me. A few months ago, I blogged on just how popular the lake has become with photographers. True to form, when I arrived to set up this shot on Sunday night, there were at least 40 photographers present at South Tufa, and I got some funny looks as I started setting up while everyone else was leaving. Soon, I had the entire place to myself, and I could contemplate the cosmos while darkness overtook the landscape.
This is one of my favorite images from the night.
The Ghost Ship, Mono Lake, May 2010
Click here to see more of my Mono Lake photos.
Well worth the funny looks, Greg. It seems to me that when other photographers start looking at you strangely you’re on the verge of doing something unique and different. Beautiful shot.
Beautiful photograph, Greg. I love the deep azure and gradation of blues. Some people sing the blues, but you photograph the blues, man. I love your description of doing the opposite of what the crowd was doing. You can chuckle to yourself knowing that they all probably made pretty close to the same photograph, while you have done something different. When Steven Johnson and Al Weber first approached my father, Philip Hyde about the Mono Lake Project that helped save Mono Lake, Dad said that no self-respecting photographer would have missed photographing Mono Lake.
Thanks, David. That’s a huge compliment!