Lightning at the South Haven Pier

Yesterday’s slight risk for Michigan looked more impressive in the models than it did up close and personal. With dewpoints as high as a sultry 78 degrees Fahrenheit in Caledonia (courtesy of my Kestrel 4500 weather meter), MLCAPE upwards of 3,500 J/kg, and 40 knots at 500 millibars, the ingredients were all present for a decent severe weather event. Backing surface flow even suggested the possibility of tornadic spin-ups, though winds at the surface were weak.

For all that, the storms when they finally arrived were pretty garden variety, with one exception: the lightning was absolutely spectacular, a

nonstop flickerfest bristling with CGs. The lines rolled across Lake Michigan in two rounds. Thanks to some good input from Ben Holcomb, I chose to set up shop at the South Haven beach, a great strategic location, arriving there in plenty of time to intercept round one. Kurt Hulst met me there, and we got our live streams going and tripoded our cameras as the northern end of the line bore down on us.

It was too dark to see the shelf cloud very distinctly. I tried to capture it with my camcorder; I haven’t viewed the footage yet, so I don’t know how it turned out, but I soon realized that I’d be better off working with my still camera, which I got mounted right about the time that the gust front arrived. The rain was near-instantaneous, escalating within moments from errant droplets to a horizontal sheet, and I scurried back to my car while collapsing my tripod as fast as I could.

What a great light show! After a lot of teasers this year, I finally got a chance to get some good lightning shots, particularly as the storm moved off to the east. With CGs ripping through the air over South Haven, anvil crawlers lacing the sky overhead, and now and then a brilliant bolt tracing a path from the sky to the lake across the canvas of a molten sunset, yesterday evening was a lightning photographer’s dream. Kurt is a great hand in that regard, and he captured some fantastic images. But for once, even I managed to get some shots I’m pleased with. Here are some of my better ones. Click on them to enlarge them.

As the storm moved on, a good number of people returned to the beach with their cameras to capture the amazing sunset and the lightning display. Storm chasers aren’t the only ones with an eye for the drama that the sky provides!

Some of my photos were taken later on, as the second line of storms was moving toward the shore. I’m particularly pleased with my shot of a lightning bolt off to the right of the pier; it’s a moody, mysterious image, and I intentionally left plenty of dark space at the bottom left.

I might add that the pics with raindrops all over the foreground were taken from my car during the height of the first storm. While I’d of course prefer nice, clear images, I don’t mind the drops. They lend a somewhat Impressionistic feel to the photos. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

Distant Storm: Impressions of the Michigan Summer Sky

With the humidity scoured out of the air by a cold front that had passed overnight, and with high pressure dominating the area, yesterday was hot but pleasant. Patches of fair-weather cumulus grazed overhead like sheep in a high, blue pasture, but they disappeared as the afternoon progressed. By evening, the sky was a flawless blue, except to the north and northeast, where a few isolated turrets were trying to push through the cap.

Thinking they wouldn’t succeed, I paid them little attention. So I was surprised when one of them muscled up into a nice little multicell thunderstorm near Mount Pleasant. I was in Portland at the time, and with the storm almost directly to my north and me having nothing better to do, I decided to get a better look. It was a weak cell with a high base and a mushy anvil, but it was also the only storm going. And there is something about a solitary cumulonimbus drifting through the broad blue heavens that captivates me. Even a garden-variety, multicell summer storm is a sublime thing when mounted in the gracious frame of azure sky and green Michigan landscape, with miles and miles of farmland and forest stretching outward from one’s feet into forever.

Naturally I snapped a few photos. Then I let the storm go. It was too far away, and it wasn’t anything worth chasing. But it was lovely to watch, and a beautiful accent to a pleasant late-July evening.