The solstice is upon us. Newspapers in the northern hemisphere may headline this as the first day of winter, but astronomically (and historically) it’s midwinter’s day, the turn-back point in the sun’s annual sojourn south of the equator. Today, the noonday sun dips as low in the southern sky as it’s going to get. Tomorrow it will be infinitesimally higher, and the day after that, higher still. So even if you’re sleeping on the floor of an airport, waiting for the call to board that never comes, be of good cheer. Spring is on its way. And it will be midsummer’s eve before you know it.

OK. That’s a bit of an exaggeration. But I am cheered by the thought that the sun will soon be noticeably higher in the sky at noon. And to celebrate the return of the light, I thought it would be a good time to shoot the sun. With my camera, that is. My sextant is staying in its case. Given the persistent cloud cover, there’s not much hope that I could get a noon sight, anyway. Still, the sun does peek out from behind the clouds from time to time. Here’s a for-instance:

This is called a “sun star,” and while it’s not a natural phenomenon like a sun dog, the effect is nonetheless striking. And how do you capture a sun star of your own? Easy. But be warned: It’s never a good a idea to look directly at the sun, even through the viewfinder of a camera. Let you peripheral vision guide you in composing your photo, instead. That being said, let’s shoot some sun stars. Of course, the sun has to cooperate. Or, to put the matter more exactly, the weather has to cooperate. If the sun is veiled by cloud—as was the case in the brief but furious pulse of lake-effect snow in the photo below—you can’t hope to bag a sun star.

Is the sun shining where you are? Then you’re good to go. Simply select aperature-priority mode and dial in your smallest aperture. This will be indicated by the largest ƒ-number. Confused? Then see my earlier article entitled “Exposing Aperture, Shutter Speed, and Depth of Field.” Here’s a sun star I photographed just the other day:

I’d been hiking a steep section of trail, and I’d brought my ski poles along for assistance on the slippery slope. I planted the poles and put one fleece glove over the grip of each pole so I could swap lenses. When I glanced up after making the switch, my glove looked as if it was reaching up to grab the sun. Serendipity! I set the aperture to ƒ/22, chose an exposure bias of 0.0, and let the camera set the shutter speed. It opted for 1/125 s. The blobs of color visible in the picture? They’re lens flare. Like the sun star itself, lens flare is an artifact. Some photographers consider it a defect, but others exploit it for artistic purposes. In this case, the flare was enhanced by a fine snowy spindrift from the neighboring trees. I don’t think it detracts from the final image, do you?

By the way, it pays to bracket your exposures when shooting sun stars. If water, snow, or other large swathes of either light or shadow are in the frame, you should plan to over- and underexpose (in steps of 0.5 EV) by as much as 2.0 EV either way.

You can also use naturally occurring “windows” to enhance sun stars, as in this photo:

In composing the shot, I placed the sun right between the curled edges of a pair of beech leaves. The serrated edges of the leaves created multiple windows, forming a complex sun star. You can bag sun stars from reflections, too, as I did in late fall, while exploring a backwater along The River:

Here I captured a multitude of stars in a range of sizes, with the largest star marking the reflected image of the solar disk itself. On further reflection, that seems just about perfick (with apologies to Pop Larkin).

Want to bag a sun star of your own? Go for it! You can never be sure what you’ll get till you review your pictures, but one thing is certain: Shooting sun stars is a lot of fun. And what better way to celebrate the start of the sun’s long journey northward, bringing spring a bit closer every day?

 
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