Night Skies of the Texas Outback - A Hackberry Farm Nature Photography Workshops Field Report

As the sun settles over the plains, the sky is orange from the dust in the air.  For much of March, the wind's blown incessantly here.  Front after dry front skimmed the region every few days, bringing winds that even John Steinbeck couldn't succinctly describe.  As always, the winds subside, and life goes on.  What's left is air soaked with particulates that give the sky an intense color.  It's a photographer's delight.

Sunset over the Plains

When the sun sinks well below the horizon, a last gasp of color paints the bottom side of the scum of clouds smattering across the sky.  Soon, a wall of blackness creeps from east to west, wiping all the daylight from the sky.  

Then the stars come out.

Under a canopy of blackness, the stars twinkle so vividly that they seem right on top of us.  Some familiar constellations are clearly visible:  the big dipper sits on its handle to the northeast while Polaris anchors the entire pinwheel of stars.  To the southeast, Orion and his prominent belt shine overhead, and the Pleiades, a constellation often mistaken for the Little Dipper, float directly overhead.

Twilight at the Observatory

This is the second time I've come out to Northwest Texas for the Night Skies of the Texas Outback nature photography workshop, and it's for good reason.  The skies are dark here.  Maybe not the darkest place in the country, but at Bortles 2 levels, they're about as dark as you'll find just about anywhere else.  From our pictures, you can see the glow of small towns on the horizon, but the overhead is devoid of ambient light.  Therefore, millions of stars and the Milky Way are clearly visible once the thin clouds disappear.

All around, I see the guests moving quietly in the dark, setting up for the various shots I've curated for not only tonight but the entire week.  I help when they need it and leave them alone when they don't, but I constantly monitor their results by peeking over their shoulders.  With each image taken, the colors of the sky contrast complimentarily with the foreground subject.  In this case, it's a windmill whose blades incessantly spin by the invisible hand of a southeasterly breeze.   As the stars and Milky Way paint the sky, an amber glow on the horizon adds a bit of color, which is a bonus.  

Windmill under the stars.

The old church.

For four straight nights, we brave the wild pigs and errant highway deer to find austere locations in an area of Texas that, in a way, time has forgotten.  Old grain silos, ghost towns, an observatory, canyon lands, and a host of other subjects get the night photography treatment.  With this type of photography, the results come through a slow and measured process.  Unlike wildlife photography, where images are shot at 30 frames per second, a single image may take two or three minutes - or even hours - to produce. 

Subjects that look old and mundane during the day take on a new life at night.

The cotton truck.

The results are worth it.  The images are a surreal view of a Texas landscape captured at a time when most slumber. 

Like all good workshops, the time passes too quickly, and at the end of the week, I tell the group that they've taken pictures of things that most photographers never see. In this age of Instagramming everything, that means something. 

Stars over the badlands

Additional Images

The farm house.

Bison silhouettes under the stars.

Hicks and Cobb store.

Abandoned truck stop.

Prickly pear cactus under the stars.

Abandoned gas station.

Grain silos.

Grain silos and train crossing.

Old box car and silos.