SpaceX Starlink Mission 5-12 Launch As Seen in Port Canaveral, Fla.

 

Fuji X-T4 with Fuji 10-24mm lens at 10mm, f/16 @ 4 minutes

 

 

Fuji X-T4 with Fuji 10-24mm lens at 10mm, f/16 @ 4 minutes

 

SpaceX Starlink Mission 5-11, liftoff at 3:10am, Monday June 12, 2023 from Cape Canaveral Space Force Station, Launch Complex 40.

I was actually able to get out and set up my camera 45 minutes before scheduled liftoff (3:10am Eastern).

I went to a place I thought might make a decent foreground for a night rocket launch streak photo.

This was taken in the little park next to the Rodney Ketchum Boat Ramp in Port Canaveral, Florida.

This was, without a doubt, one of the easiest night rocket launch photos I have ever shot.  The shot is actually kind or bland, but I got there and parked, set up tripod and camera.  Set my camera settings (4 minutes at f/16) and took a couple of practice shots for overall placement checking.

The rocket went up the second its launch window began.  When the rocket was out of sight and the exposure done, I packed up and came home.

I was gone and back fast enough that my lovely bride woke up and said, "Oh No! Was it cancelled?"

This despite being a 45 minute drive each way to get to this location.

We've been here 27 years and rocket launches never gets old.

A long time exposure at night usually allows in enough light that the final image has a deep blue sky.  Not on this night.  It was an almost completely clear night, but I guess takeoff was in the absolute darkest part of the night and didn't get any blue in the sky. As a result of the muted color, I'm really liking the B&W version of this shot the better of the two.

First Post in Just Under Two Years

1/80s @ f/8 Fuji X-T4, Nikon 400mm Ai f/5.6 lens w/Nikon TC-14B teleconverter (840mm 35mm eq)

1/350s @ f/8 Fuji X-T4, Nikon 400mm Ai f/5.6 lens w/Nikon TC-14B teleconverter (840mm 35mm eq)

Confession: My knowledge of Central Florida bird names is on par with my knowledge of the mathematics that underpin quantum mechanics.

Upper photo taken in my front yard. I looked for matching birds on the interwebs and found none that look like this.  Therefore, the bird on top is henceforth named The LaraStreetUnknownBirdNo.1.

Lower photo taken in my back yard. I'm going way out on a limb and say this bird is a female cardinal, aka red bird.

Canaveral Lock, Port Canaveral

Fujifilm XT-20, Fujinon 18-135mm lens at 18mm, f/16, 1/80sec @ ISO 200

Fujifilm X-T10, Rokinon 10mm lens, f/8, 1/320sec., ISO 200

Fujifilm X-T10, Rokinon 10mm lens, f/8, 1/500sec., ISO 200

Fujifilm XT-20, Fujinon 18-135mm lens at 135mm, f/20, 1/640sec @ ISO 200

A few weeks ago I had no idea that Canaveral Lock existed.

I was scouring the internet for local photographic opportunities and came across a mention of the lock being at the west end of the ship channel, near Exploration Tower and Jetty Park.

Canaveral Lock was built when a canal was dug in the narrow bit of land between what is now the port's ship channel and the Banana River Lagoon.

Only problem was the small, daily, three to four foot tides that would make the narrow canal a rushing river.

Answer, the lock.

I headed up to the lock, about thirty five or forty miles north of my home to see and to photograph. The channel and lock are at the southern end of Kennedy Space Center and Cape Canaveral Air Force Station. The strange thing is that I have been within a half mile of this lock many times as I have been in this area photographing rocket launches and whatnot.

So, as locks go, this one deals with the small tides in the area, but it's pretty neat to me nonetheless.

The four photos are: 1, foot entrance for visitors. 2, the gates of the eastern end that open into the western Port Canaveral ship channel. 3, a pleasure boat going through the opening eastern gates. 4, looking west down the length of the lock into the Banana River Lagoon (and the ultra-bright evening sun).

Wood Stork in Port Canaveral

Fujifilm XT-20, Fujinon 18-135mm lens at 135mm, f/5.6, 1/30sec @ ISO 200

Many people would recognize this as a stork.
It's not a particularly great picture of a stork, but is is a clear, close picture of a stork.
I posted this so y'all could get a good look at what a stork really looks like in detail.
Enlarge the photo and get a good look at this thing.
When we moved to Florida all those years ago, I was not prepared for just how ugly these birds are.
Their head/neck/face is the stuff of nightmares.
Plus, although they are fairly large birds, they're way too small to be carrying infant babies hanging from their beaks in white bed sheets long distances in flight.
That leaves me wondering, "Where DID I come from?"

Before Sunrise at Castaways Point Park

tripod, Fujifilm XT-20, Fujinon 18-135mm lens at 18mm, f/14, 25sec @ ISO 200

I had gone to Port Canaveral to see a rocket launch, but the rocket launch was scrubbed.
Instead of going straight home, I went to Castaways Point Park in Palm Bay.
Coming down I-95, as I got to Palm Bay, I could juuuust make out a blueness to the sky instead of blackness, and knew morning twilight was here.
The park is just a few miles from our home, so I went and set up my tripod in a place where I knew the sun would eventually come up behind this derelict sailboat at the park.
(I used The Photographer's Ephemeris to project where the day's sunrise would occur in relation to various points in the park. On this morning, I used the Android mobile app version of The Photographer's Ephemeris on my phone.  So, I knew within a few feet of exactly where I needed to stand to get the sunrise and the boat together. I cannot tell you just how amazingly useful the ephemeris has been to me for several years now.)
By the time I had my tripod/camera set up, the horizon was orange.
So I look my first shot, above.
It was a great sunrise, more photos later, but I just loved the deep blue sky that appeared with the orange band at the horizon in this 25sec shot.

Great Blue Heron and Great Orange Sunset

tripod, Fujifilm XT-20, Fujinon 18-135mm lens at 135mm, f/22, 1/4sec @ ISO 200

tripod, Fujifilm XT-20, Nikon 300mm w/1.4X (35mm = 630mm), f/8, 1/80sec @ ISO 400

Much of this past spring, and most of this summer, about twenty minutes before sunset, a solid wall of clouds have appeared in the distance and right along the horizon most days.
You just have to go out anyway, but this day surely looked clear less than an hour before sunset, so I was hopeful for a few shots of the red ball 'o sun touching the horizon.
My hopes were mostly dashed.
The sun gave its all though, sending some bright orange rays through the sudden clouds as if he were determined to not be blocked.
As I took a few photos of the orangey sky with this derelict pier/boat cover in the foreground, a great blue hereon flew up and landed on the boat cover.
He posed there for a while.
Long enough for me to go to my camera bag on the picnic table near me and get out and change my lens to my old Nikon 300mm f/5.6 lens with the Nikon TC-14 extender and a Nikon AI to Fujifilm X lens adapter. This gives me a 450mm telephoto on my crop frame sensor, and the 35mm equivalent of a 630mm lens.
Sometimes I feel I should wag that semi-heavy beast around with me and on this day, followed my gut. Sometimes I have carried it around without taking it out, but it paid off on this particular evening.
That lens allowed me to get a couple of pretty neat shots of the heron up there against that dramatic orange backdrop.

Blue Sky Rainbows

Fujifilm XT-20, Fujinon 18-135mm lens at 88mm, f/14, 1/320sec @ ISO 200

Fujifilm XT-20, Fujinon 18-135mm lens at 32mm, f/14, 1/200sec @ ISO 200

Is there such a thing?

Did I just invent a new term?

Probably not.  I know, I know.  Google it.

Hmmm.

Mixed results. Not exactly like I was thinking of the term, but close enough I guess.

A blue sky rainbow is a rainbow that appears on an otherwise sunny day with lots of blue sky.

I saw two of them last week within three days.

The first one was this past Wednesday at a local park, Castaways Point Park in Palm Bay.

There is a sailboat wrecked there that has been there well over a year now.

I had gone there Thursday evening at about 6pm so the afternoon sun would be just right on that wrecked boat.

There was a rainbow above the boat from the shore of the park and I posted that photo on this blog on Wednesday, August 2nd.

I was in Port Canaveral on Saturday and saw another one.

Neither one was a complete arch from end to end, but I rarely have seen a full rainbow anyway.

I had visited Canaveral Lock and when I looked eastward down the ship channel toward the Atlantic, there was one end of another blue sky rainbow.

That second one was harder to photograph, it was fading even from the second I first noticed it.

The two photos on today's post are from the rainbow I saw on Saturday in Port Canaveral.

Scroll back in this blog to Wednesday's post to see the clearer one, at a local park.

Come to think of it, both rainbows were out over the Atlantic.

Still, it's a nifty phenomenon.

Genesis 9:13 I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth.

Lesson Learned

tripod, Fujifilm XT-20, Fujinon 18-135mm lens at 29mm, f/20, 0.8sec @ ISO 200

If out with my camera in the evenings, and the light seems to be gone, and therefore my shooting done, I head back to the Camry.
If I'm in a public place, I mostly stop at a convenient park bench and go ahead and turn everything off and put everything away in my camera bag. I completely fold up the tripod for the night.
When I get to the car, I can place packed bag and folded tripod in the back seat and head home.
When I get home, hey!, the camera's ready to grab and take inside. Simple.
Problem is, I often see "One More Shot" on the way to the car that I would take if I still had my camera out. Or as I pull away in the car I see another photo screaming to be made.
I have often ignored that urge for one more shot because I simply don't feel like unpacking my camera and unfolding my tripod, setting it all up again for three or four last shots.
Pure laziness. Inertia.
Saturday night in Port Canaveral, Florida, I had been taking some sunset photos that featured the nifty-looking Exploration Tower.
As explained above, I passed a seating area after the sky's color was deadened, and put all of my equipment away.
I got in the car, backed out, drove to the first good place for me to turn around and turned and headed toward home.
Well, as I looked at the tower to my left, I saw a lovely photo with the tower, whose lights were now coming on, against the very last, pale sunset colors.
Without trying, I envisioned the photo you see above, and knew that this time I could not just ignore the impulse for one more shot. In my mind I had already jazzed up the colors and contrast to something gorgeous.
I pulled into a parking spot again, and it turned out to be the exact parking spot I had just left.
I quickly jumped out (if you can in any way consider my slow-motion to be "quick" or "jump" in any way) and unpacked the camera and tripod.
I simply took about three paces in front of the parked car and set up the camera/tripod and framed and shot about five images.
Then I had to pack it all up again and head home. For real this time.
When I got my photos on the computer, this one caught my eye as having the most potential.
I jiggled it in Lightroom and resized it in Photoshop and ended up with my favorite image of the whole day's shooting.
From now on, I will not fully put my camera away, and fully fold up my tripod until I get home.
Lesson learned.

Over the Line

Fujifilm XT-20, Fujinon 18-135mm lens at 18mm, f/16, 1/180sec @ ISO 640

This was actually shot with me standing in our county neighbor to the south, Indian River County.
It's a wide angle shot at Sebastian Inlet State Park.
The inlet itself is a dividing line between Brevard and Indian River Counties.
In the distance in the photo is a jetty sticking out into the Atlantic Ocean. That jetty is on the north side of the inlet, in Brevard County.
So, I guess you could say this is a photo of Brevard, taken from Indian River County.
Not quite so grand as that See Seven States! mountain vantage point on Lookout Mountain, Tennessee.
But on a hot afternoon, as the sun goes down, and a breeze comes along, and with the pastel colored sky here, this is pretty hard to beat if you ask me.

Rainbow at Castaways Point Park

Fujifilm XT-20, Fujinon 18-135mm lens at 40mm, f/18, 1/100sec @ ISO 200

Well, actually "I" was at Castaways Point Park in Palm Bay, the rainbow was some miles away, out over the Atlantic Ocean.
I'm not exactly sure why there was a rainbow in an almost totally clear sky, but I'm not going to sit and reason why when there are photos to be taken.
Of course, I was right in getting right to the photography and leaving the wondering why until later because the rainbow faded within ten minutes or so.
I had come to this little beach within the intracoastal waterway at this particular time to get some nice golden afternoon sun on that wrecked boat there.
The rainbow was a bonus.
About five minutes after taking this shot I had a bad fall and banged myself up pretty good and soaked myself in the brackish water. I also got my camera gear somewhat wet too. I dragged myself up and came straight home to lick my wounds and dry my camera gear. My camera has fog in the viewfinder, so it is presently undergoing my personal, tried-and-true methods of drying and rescuing wet electronics. I won't bore you with the details of that.
We artists sometimes have to suffer for our art.
Or, you could just call me clumsy.

Trees at Ryckman Park, Re-do

Fujifilm XT-20, Fujinon 18-135mm lens at 18mm, f/18, 1/80sec @ ISO 200

A few days back I posted a bright, vividly colored version of this photo.
I tried to give that photo the old "thick" look of slide film (which I shot for many years).
And although I liked the color version very much, I knew when I made the photograph that the heavy contrast in the scene would probably make this a good looking B&W image as well.
So, here ya go!
I need to work on my B&W processing in Lightroom and Photoshop. 
I can mostly get the look I want in color photo manipulation, but my B&W shots seem to leave me with a vague sense of having missed the mark in some way.
It's like getting ready and leaving to go to, say, a birthday party, repeatedly double-checking myself, but leaving feeling like I forgot something like forgetting the gift.

When Life Gives You Lemons...

Fuji XT-20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 135mm, f/13, 1/10sec, ISO 200

Riverside Park (Indialantic, Fla.) Sunset panorama #3,488,526,330. But Who's Counting?
Sunrises and sunsets here may often be blocked by clouds. This summer alone I think the clouds have blocked more "big orange ball o' sun touching the horizon" sunsets than all our years here combined.
But, hey, us photographer types are already out there, so, we snap away.
Sometimes magic happens anyway, like orange-y sky on the left sharply divided with blue/pink sky on the right. ...Lemonade.
It's like the way a gambler is addicted to THIS TIME I'M GONNA WIN BIG feeling, that prompts photographers to go out looking for a big payoff.
Sometimes that sunset, as this one was, is one heck of a consolation prize.
I really wish I could convey the warm air, the smell, the sound of water lapping in a 2D photograph.  I try. I seriously try to make my photos force the viewer to have the total sensory stimulation I had when there watching this.

At Melbourne Harbor Marina, Melbourne, Florida

Fujifilm X-T20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 18mm, f/18, 1/125sec., ISO 200

Fujifilm X-T20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 70mm, f/18, 1/125sec., ISO 200

The light was gorgeous.
The temperature was hot enough to make a super-fit triathlete swoon.
Suffering for art, and sweating out some impurities.
The heat affects me, but strangely, doesn't bother me as much as it did when I were younger.

Rare Sunrise

Fujifilm X-T20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 44mm, f/11, 1/4000sec., ISO 200

Fujifilm X-T10, Pano/HDR w/Rokinon 10mm lens, f/8, 1/600sec., ISO 200

No, sunrises aren't rare.
Me being there to see one, IS rare.
I am by nature a night person and am often deathly allergic to mornings.
Sometimes though, I wake up early AND inspired and take off with my camera bag and tripod.
Though here, true to form, I was actually late for the sun rising above the horizon.
Not a morning person; check.  Chronically late; check.
At least I didn't miss all the beauty happening over the bay, called Palm Bay, where Turkey Creek meets the Indian River Lagoon.  (And presumably where the city behind my back while taking these photographs got it's name)
Is it just me, or does the boat there look a lot like the S.S. Minnow?

Set Up for Sunset

Fujifilm XT-10, Rokinon 10mm lens, f/8, 1/320sec., ISO 200

A week ago, I made the drive to Sebastian Inlet State Park, hoping for an amazing sunset.
As has happened many times this summer there was a distant line of clouds up to about ten degrees above the horizon that killed any Big-Solar-Orb-Touching-The-Earth type sunsets.  I did, however, get some nice shots with the sun above lowest clouds and above the center of the bridge.
I got a few other shots that I like, of fishermen and whatnot, but I liked this photo too.
I don't remember taking one with my other camera of my Fuji XT-20 and lens on the tripod.  I had taken one like it with my phone to send to my wife to show here where/how I was set and ready, and texted that to her.
Anyhoo, if nothing else, it's a personal documentary shot, with some beauty in it as well.
It does vaguely disturb me that I took this shot without remembering and had it be a surprise to me when I saw it on the computer when downloaded later.

Boat Wreck, Sebastian, Florida

Panorama shot with Fujifilm XT-20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 18mm, f/22, 1/125sec., ISO 200

I would have thought that, since any boat is expensive, people wouldn't abandon them to the elements.
Boy, was I wrong. I guess I've seen a lot of abandoned cars in my life too, but seeing a boat end up this way is even sadder.
In the years we've been in Florida, I have seen many washed up boats.
Some on the Atlantic Ocean beach nearby, but more so in the Indian River Lagoon.
The Lagoon is a natural protective area for smaller boats, but with most years sending at least a sizeable tropical storm over us, there's always a boat or five that get shaken loose from their mooring and end up derelict on the Indian Rivers Lagoon's shore somewhere.
Recently Number One Daughter and I went out for some early morning photography and as we were on our way back, we passed this sad sight.
I had to get out and take a few shots.
That was once a brand-new boat, no doubt bought to carry someone's hopes and dreams of lots of sailing the seas in it.
It ends up like this until whatever county it is in can afford to have someone who gets rid of such large trash come and take it away. I think we were back in Brevard County at this point, so I reckon someone will try to track the owner and put the responsibility on their shoulders to take care of it.
The length of time these boats stay like this leads me to believe that owners are rarely found and get right on to getting their mess cleaned away.
I have no idea where these things are taken when finally removed.
I guess the boating world must have their equivalent of tow trucks and scrap yards.
Somewhere.

Trees at Ryckman Park, Melbourne Beach

Fujifilm XT-20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 18mm, f/5, 1/200sec., ISO 200

Not much to say here about the subject matter.  Shadows, color, contrast in the evening Florida sun..
I was actually on my way to the restroom at the park when I turned to look behind me and was wowed by the shadows of the trees.
If I go out photographing with others, I soon get left behind because I stop, turn around, and scan for interesting scenes while others ramble on. 
Stopping and turning to look behind me when I'm out with my camera was something I learned from reading a western novel when I was young.
In the novel, an old-timer told a young greenhorn that as he proceeded through any territory, to take a minute every few minutes to look behind and study the land in case he had to backtrack.  The traveler should then be better able to retrace his steps if necessary. It may save his life.
As a budding young amateur photographer at the time, I considered this sage advice for a wandering photographer, and adopted this survival wisdom from, in theory, the old west.
I have, for decades now, made it a habit to scan the land behind me as I walk with my camera.  There's often a great picture there I would miss by never turning to study what is behind me.
Even if I get left behind.
That long-ingrained habit paid off with this one.
It was my best shot that day.
I'm most often out alone, so my habit usually doesn't bother anyone, and I know how to get safely back to my car.

The Burger Inn, Melbourne, Florida

Panorama, Fujifilm XT-10, Rokinon 10mm lens, f/5.6, 1/320sec., ISO 200

Fujifilm XT-20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 18mm, f/5, 1/200sec., ISO 200

Fujifilm XT-20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 29mm, f/8, 1/150sec., ISO 200

The Burger Inn is at 1819 N Harbor City Boulevard (aka, US1) in Melbourne, Florida.
As a wee lad, nothing, and I mean nothing, was as awesome a meal to me as a restaurant hamburger.  My parents were each fantastic cooks, and their burgers were top notch, but going out somewhere and ending the trip with a restaurant burger was all this boy could ask for.
Living in the small town of Vidalia, Louisiana, we would sometimes go as a family across the adjacent Mississippi River into Natchez, Mississippi for whatever my parents wanted in shopping. They had a Sears, Roebuck & Co. store!
Such trips often meant stopping at Burger Chef, a now-defunct restaurant chain.  They were near the top of the heap as far as my childhood mind could rate a hamburger.
In Vidalia itself, a tasty "store-bought" hamburger (i.e. not made at home by my parents) could be had near our house, in what was once a Dairy Queen.  That was an acceptable substitute for Burger Chef, and hey, it was practically down the street.
When we would go to central Louisiana, to LaSalle Parish, to visit grandparents or other relatives, there was a place down there in Olla, called the Burger Barn.
The Olla Burger Barn was also, somewhere in the dim mists of times past, a Dairy Queen as well.
As a kid, and even as an adult, a trip to LaSalle Parish meant a trip to the Burger Barn.  They're still cranking out burgers all these decades later, and they're still tasty.
I do suspect that the awesomeness of the burgers at the Olla Burger Barn are somewhat enhanced in my mind with the healthy sprinkling of nostalgia I tend to add to the burgers when eating there.
The only problem with going to the Burger Barn now is that they also sell some of the best fried catfish you've ever eaten, and as an adult I do looooove me some catfish.
Being a full-figure guy, I can handle an order of the catfish and fries AND a hamburger, for a feast without compare.
Now, to the Melbourne, Florida Burger Inn.
Man, oh, man, these folks will serve you an old-school burger completely worthy of all my childhood dreams and memories.
If you pull in in your car and leave your lights on for a minute, they'll come and take your order and serve you at the car.  I usually get out and sit at a table and face the restaurant instead of the highway, so I can take in the vintage, stainless steel ambience of the place. They also have a counter inside at which to eat, complete with spinning stainless steel stools.  Lots of vintage 50s style decor as well.
If you are a simple person who loves simple pleasures and simple foods, you can't do much better than taking a trip to the past and chowing down on the cheeseburgers and fries at the Burger Inn.
The Burger Inn's burgers have all the flavor that I could have asked for as a kid, but also as a rapidly aging adult.

Fujifilm XT-20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 23mm, f/9, 1/170sec., ISO 200

The Palm Bay Couch

Fujifilm XT-10, Rokinon 10mm lens, f/5.6, 1/500sec., ISO 200

Fujifilm XT-20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 18mm, f/16, 1/200sec., ISO 400

Fujifilm XT-20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 135mm, f/8, 1/400sec., ISO 400

There's a couch (actually, a love seat) that appeared on Palm Bay Road on the sidewalk next to the west-bound turn lane into the Walmart shopping center.
The couch has been there a while, and many began to wonder just how long it was going to take the City of West Melbourne to pick up this dumped item.  (Technically, that area there with Walmart on Palm Bay Road belongs to West Melbourne, not Palm Bay.)
Well, someone got clever and placed a throw rug on the sidewalk in front of the couch, you know, to dress it up a little while waiting on the authorities.
This began a cascade of items appearing all around the love seat, curtains, end table, lamp, books, extra chair with guitar propped in it.
You get the idea.
I dropped by on Sunday afternoon to visit The Palm Bay Couch while out and about with my camera, with the idea to eventually head to Sebastian Inlet.
Now The Palm Bay Couch has its own Facebook page!
People are funny.
I love nutty stuff like this.
Now that The Palm Bay Couch is all fixed up with accoutrements (pronounced ah-coo-tre-MON, for those, like me who went to Louisiana public schools), it will probably be disposed of within days.
That's just the way the world works.
I even signed the visitor's list someone placed there.

UPDATE Monday, July, 16:  Sinister forces came and took all the items away.  Just as I predicted.

Looks Like a Horse to Me

Fujifilm XT-20, Fuji 18-135mm lens at 135mm, f/9, 1/250sec., ISO 200

I was out with some of my old film cameras this afternoon.  I was taking a few shots with each camera to develop and scan and show as example photos that the cameras work well when I sell them in the near future.
Afterward, there was some sunlight left, and I went to the Melbourne Harbor Marina and walked around until the sun went below the clouds, this afternoon's horizon.
This cloud formation took shape as I walked back toward my car and I thought it looked like a horse, whinnying.
Later, as I was driving home, this shape had stretched out to look like one of the lean, long, sharp-faced dragons in movies.