Your First Steps in Sky Photography

Whenever someone tells me how he or she saw a marvelous halo around the Moon or the majestic constellation Orion rising over a snowy, moonlit hillside, my response is usually the same: “Did you take a picture of it?”

Often this is met with a puzzled reaction: “I didn’t think I could” or “I don’t have any fancy equipment.” The fact is, if you can see it, you can photograph it. Now it’s true that fancy equipment enables marvelous close-up photos of celestial subjects: star clusters, galaxies, eclipses, and more. This is the realm of astro-photography, which requires time, patience, and some heavy-duty hardware — especially a telescope that tracks the sky.

But photographing larger celestial sights — haloes, constellations, the Milky Way, or a crescent Moon nuzzled up against the brilliant planet Venus — requires nothing more than the most basic of gear. This is what I call sky photography.

Tools of the Trade

Chances are you already have all you need to begin doing sky photography. Of course you’ll need a camera with film or a digital card. A camera with a removable lens and long-exposure settings works best, but even a “point-and-shoot” camera will suffice in many cases. You’ll also need a sturdy tripod, a shutter-release cable or electronic remote control, and a flashlight with either a red LED or red cellophane covering it (to protect and preserve your night vision).

That’s it! That’s all you’ll really need to begin doing remark-able sky photography for yourself. In addition to the basics, it’s wise to carry a few other things in your camera bag as well. For example, you should have a notepad and pen. Although many digital cameras record the settings when photos are taken, it’s always good to keep notes of what you’re doing. You’ll be glad to have them when looking over your results later. They’ll help you move along the sky-photography learning curve much more quickly, and you’ll know exactly how to handle situations similar to those you’ve experienced.

And here are a few of my favorite “comfort” necessities:


• You’ll be glad you have a kneeling pad on those occasions when you must stoop down on a harsh, rocky surface to look through the viewfinder.
• Affix reflective tape to the tripod legs to help you navigate around them in the darkness.
• A small kitchen timer with an audible alarm can make life easier during long exposures. Set the alarm, open the shutter, and enjoy stargazing while the camera and timer do the work.
• Finally, one of the most important tools in my camera bag is gaffer’s tape, found in most art-supply stores. Use this to secure anything that can be accidentally moved — such as the camera’s focus, zoom, or aperture settings. It won’t leave a gummy residue behind. If you think this is one item you can skip, just try a couple of sessions without it; you’ll be amazed at how settings can change (seemingly on their own) in the darkness!

As for film, daylight color film is the best for sky photography, but the subject determines which specific film to use. I recommend slide film because you’ll have a first-generation image to look at. In other words, when you see a slide, you’re viewing the piece of film that captured light from the subject. Print film creates a negative, which must be used to make a print and is thus a second-generation image. Negative film has some advantages, but overall there’s too much room for error when it comes to beginning sky photography. Of course, you can make prints from slide film or have it scanned for digital processing and printing later.

Getting Ready

OK, your camera bag is packed, so what should you photograph? While you could sit around and wait for something to appear — such as a spectacular rainbow, a glorious sunset, or an Earth-orbiting satellite — much of what occurs in the sky is predictable. And the more you learn to anticipate the sky and visualize your photos, the more creative you’ll become.

To dedicated astronomers or astrophotographers, clouds, the Moon, and city lights are all enemies, con-spiring to shroud their celestial prey. Interestingly, however, a sky photographer values these as great friends. It takes a while to change our thinking — especially for those of us who’ve spent decades as as-tronomers — but once you see the results of including theses “nuisances” in your photos you’ll come to love and welcome them as I have.