Chris Kridler
Chris Kridler is a writer, photographer and storm chaser and author of the Storm Seekers Series of storm-chasing adventures.
Chris Kridler is a writer, photographer and storm chaser and author of the Storm Seekers Series of storm-chasing adventures.
In a year when my spring storm chase with Alethea Kontis didn’t yield all that many storms – mostly because of bad timing and an uncooperative May – I’m grateful for what I did see in 2022, including spectacular space launches and, yes, dramatic skies.
I’m still limiting travel thanks to the pandemic, not to mention other obligations (work, writing books, and so on), and I have a lot of FOMO. I hope to see more of the world in 2023. But even when I can’t travel, there are many wonders to be had in my own backyard (to misquote Dorothy when she returned to Kansas).When I looked back at my photography from this year, I didn’t obsess too much about what photos were the “best of 2023.” These are more like the most memorable captures for me. But I’m still very pleased with how some of them turned out.
This year, Stolen Butter gallery began offering some of my photographs for sale. A few of these images can be found there. Look for more soon.
With that, here’s a collection of twenty-five photos that meant something to me in 2022. I hope 2023 will be even more beautiful.
Roll over a photo to see its caption, or click on any one to start a slide show.
The trajectory for the rocket, carrying OneWeb broadband internet satellites, almost took it overhead. With the sunset light and the clear evening, the booster separation was beautifully clear. And the booster was highly visible as it returned to Earth.
As a bonus, the sonic boom from the returning booster provided a visceral thrill – as well as a humorous surprise for our guests.
The short version: It never gets old.
One funny note about the timelapse video, to which I’ve added some of the photos I shot … you may glimpse a bunch of little dots flying around. These are mosquitoes, whose bloodthirsty squadrons have been plaguing us for weeks in spite of a spate of dry weather. Ah, Florida in December.
Roll over any image to see a caption, or click on one to start a slide show.
It may alarm you to know that I write poetry. I don’t do it as often as I used to. I’m more prosaic now, I guess. I write a lot of fiction. But once in a while, a moment strikes me. More on that in a minute.
I wandered over to the central Brevard County, Florida, beaches today to take photos. It wasn’t easy finding a crossover that was open. Satellite Beach and Indian Harbour Beach were especially hard-hit by Hurricane Nicole. There’s a condo building in Satellite Beach where waves scoured away some of the sand UNDER it, but it still stands.
Sadly, there are homes on the precipice too. We might not have quite as much damage as Volusia County, but these residents face a very real danger from extreme erosion. I can’t help but think we’re building sand castles in the face of climate change, and the tide is turning.
As I walked, my eyes were drawn from the damage to the piles of seashells. There weren’t a lot of fancy ones – I can’t remember the last time I found a whelk here. I used to live close to the beach, a five-minute walk, back when I moved here more than twenty years ago. I walked the beaches all the time and found some beautiful shells. But today, even in the piles of seemingly unremarkable shells, color caught my eye.
And then a poem materialized. And it’s about a lot more than walking on the beach after a storm. You’ve survived the past few years. It’s been hard, right? I know it has been for me. But I needed to hear this from the universe. Maybe you need to hear it too.
STORM DAMAGEYou go looking for damage
in the wake of a storm,
one of so many, so often, so now.
Beach steps are twisted.
Homes hang off a cliff.
But you’re distracted by the shells,
bounty washed up,
coins of the deep
and somehow you find room in your pockets
you didn’t know you had
for patterns and pinks and beauty.
The sun is out today.
~~~
Roll over any photo to see a caption, or click on an image to start a slide show.
I don’t have much to say except WOW! But I guess I should tell the story behind this unusual photo (below) of the launch of Artemis in the wee hours of November 16 from Kennedy Space Center.
We weren’t able to get passes for this launch, so we weren’t anywhere close to the launch site at Kennedy Space Center. For a previous attempt, we had a chance to see it from a friend’s high-rise condo in Cocoa, but I didn’t want to bug them at 1 a.m. or so. So, sleepy as we were, we decided to stick close to home.After technical delays, the “go” for launch kind of caught us by surprise. All of a sudden we had ten minutes to leave the house and get into position for a launch. And my husband was still in his jammies.
He got himself sorted with me nagging him, and I drove us down to the riverside – technically, the Indian River Lagoon here in east-central Florida – and the Rockledge city dock. Given it was almost 2 a.m. now, I was kind of surprised to see it full of people.
I’ve always wanted to get that dock in a launch photo, and now seemed like an excellent time. But I had literally just a few minutes to set up. The moon was out, and of course, that had to be in my photo. After all, this rocket would be looping around the moon in preparation for future human spaceflights. And I thought the trees might make a fascinating foreground, IF it worked out. It’s kind of the opposite of what you usually want or seek in a time-exposure launch photo – a nice, clear view of the streak.
I enjoy finding interesting foregrounds. In this case, the foreground tells a lot of the story and evokes our town, our Space Coast. And the launch is still dazzling as the light streaks through the sky.
This was a very bright rocket. The rumble, which we’d expected to be thunderous, wasn’t all that. But the brilliant lighting provided by Artemis made this photo glow.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
We were lucky. We were lucky in Hurricane Ian, which devastated southwest Florida. And we were lucky in Hurricane Nicole, in that we’re just far enough inland that we didn’t have to worry about our house falling into the ocean.
With climate change, all of the damage we’re seeing now on Florida’s east coast may become commonplace. Not that anyone wants to hear that.
My husband and I went out for a drive in Cocoa and Rockledge, Florida, while our power was off in the wake of Nicole. We saw sunken boats, lots of tree debris, a mess where the river road — the road that runs along the Indian River Lagoon — was underwater, and damaged docks. And this storm was barely a Category 1.
And then, on Friday, SpaceX sent off another rocket. We’re also awaiting the long-delayed launch of the Artemis moon mission after the rocket was left on the pad during the storm. Talk about confidence!The work goes on. And so does the cleanup.
Don’t miss the photos and video of the pounding surf as Nicole approached the east coast in my previous post.
Roll over any photo to see a caption, or click on an image to start a slide show.
Going out in the wind today was so therapeutic. It wasn’t yet windy enough to be dangerous (except for maybe those insane people kiteboarding in the tropical storm waves), but it was invigorating. And also entangling, when it came to my hair.
Tropical Storm Nicole, which soon became Hurricane Nicole, pushed big, messy waves into the Cocoa Beach Pier here on Florida’s Space Coast on November 9. As I write this, the outer bands of the storm are coming ashore here, and I’m wondering when the power will go out. (Better type faster.)I can see why surf reports like SurfGuru call waves like this a “washing machine.” So why were people fishing, swimming and riding kiteboards? I don’t know, but they made for interesting photos and video.
A steady stream of spectators came to the pier to gawk at the waves and activity, until squalls of fine, blasting rain chased them away. I stayed for a while taking photos and video and put my GoPro under the pier to get a short timelapse, which you’ll see in the video. By the time I left, I was soaking wet from the rain, at least anywhere below my rain jacket.
Roll over a photo to see a caption or click on any one to start a slide show.
Life’s been busy, so I haven’t posted all the rocket launches I’ve shot lately from Florida’s Space Coast. And there have been a lot. While one was a United Launch Alliance jaunt, the rest were SpaceX.
The gallery below includes photos from a handful of launches, including today’s SpaceX Falcon Heavy with Space Force payloads. In other words, secret defense stuff.Well, the launch was so secret, even the weather got involved. Even though we were lucky enough to get passes for the ITL (or Integrate-Transfer-Launch) causeway in the northern part of Cape Canaveral Space Force Station, dense fog obscured almost everything, including lift-off.
The double booster landing wasn’t so clear either, at least from where we were. I’d love to get in a better position to shoot the boosters returning. The spectacle is so sci-fi. The sonic booms were viscerally entertaining, however, and I got a few nice shots of the rocket in its ascent.
The video focuses on recent SpaceX launches including today’s Heavy.
Click on any image below to start a slide show; roll over them to see captions.
Still, the lighthouse makes a dramatic foreground for a launch photo. I can’t help but contrast ships from centuries past with today’s spacecraft, like the SpaceX Falcon 9 that launched on Saturday, September 10. (You can read more about the lighthouse’s history and how to visit it here.)
As the rocket lifted off, it became clear that the northeastward trajectory meant the rocket wouldn’t lift high enough (visually, anyway) to rise above the lighthouse. For a second I hoped it might pass right behind the light at the top, but still, it made for a very pretty scene. I cropped the vertical shot into a square one.
I shot the launch with a second camera using my 10mm fisheye lens (below). I like this, too, because the lightkeeper’s cottage (a replica) is visible at left. And the GoPro timelapse video is a fun little glimpse of the lift-off after the moonrise, which was almost directly behind us. The clouds and rain thinned out just enough to make this photo opportunity work.
The rocket carried more Starlink internet satellites and the new (and alarmingly large) BlueWalker 3 communications array, which will soon show up in our photos, no doubt.
It’s been a while since I’ve posted. I’ve been working on editing books and designing book covers. I launched my first collection at the Stolen Butter Gallery. I went on a road trip. And I hauled my camera here and there to shoot storms and space launches.
There were highlights – for instance, a violent storm on August 26 that produced a stunning shelf cloud that I captured in Cocoa Beach, with the statue of champ Kelly Slater “surfing” the wave of the storm. And sometimes, even when a launch was lackluster, the skies were beautiful anyway. But the pattern this summer has strongly favored the west coast of Florida, so we haven’t had much in the way of good storms, and when we did, I was out of town for most of them.
One of the highlights for me was visiting the Johnstown Flood National Memorial in Pennsylvania, site of the lake whose water hurtled downstream, destroying everything in its path and killing more than 2200 people, when the South Fork Dam broke in 1889.
While we’re all awaiting the twice-delayed launch of the Artemis moon rocket, other launches have kept the skies interesting over the Space Coast. I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.
Roll over any image to see a caption, or click on a photo to start a slide show.
The long story: I’ve always sought new ways to share my photography. I used to do occasional weekend art shows. These days, digital dominates, but a quick look on Facebook doesn’t compare to the experience of seeing a gorgeous print on the wall.
Business-wise, the assumption increasingly is that photographers should give away their work; while stock is a respectable venue, I found that losing all control of my images and being paid pennies for them (even when they appeared in major outlets like The New York Times) wasn’t for me. I’ve recently exited my stock agreement for several reasons, from delays in payment to seeing my work used in unpleasantly surprising ways.
What we do as storm chasers is extremely specialized, technical, expensive, and hazardous. The photographs we produce are art. As a photographer, I’ve moved more toward artistic expression and away from stark documentation. So I was thrilled when Rachael contacted me about joining the gallery.
I hope you’ll take a look (and subscribe to get notices of additions to the gallery, artist spotlights and more). I have more collections planned, including lightning and rocket launches. In the meantime, you can browse some of my favorite storm images here.
Thanks for your support!