Time-lapse by David Wilson.

LoCO’s honorary lime-lapse laureate David Wilson send us another beautiful time lapse from Southern Humboldt.

This stunning view — overlooking the South Fork of the Eel River watershed — was captured on Friday.

Wilson describes the scene below:

An image of beauty in Timelapse showing the amazing, living, breathing night over the South Fork Eel River watershed. The Milky Way slides across, the fog roils and boils below, and the lights of people sit or zip around self-importantly.

The Living, Breathing Night over the Eel River  •  [view in HD for fine detail]

The Milky Way slides across the sky while the fog fills the South Fork Eel River valley, and humans light up. (Watch again to look at other areas, a lot is going on. Use as big a screen as you can…)

The sun set over southern Humboldt as I stood on the great ridge line separating the watersheds of the South Fork Eel River from the North Fork Eel River, the former stretching before me and the latter at my back. My hope was to catch the valley filling with fog as the Milky Way and star field slid across the sky. I had seen it do this the week before, but my camera wasn’t positioned to catch much of the fog itself. There was no sign of fog when I began, but I was not disappointed.

I began shooting the still photographs for this timelapse at 7:24PM on September 2, 2016 to catch the sunset. It wasn’t until about 9:30PM that the fog first came into the view far down the valley. It rolled up both River valleys simultaneously, before me and behind. It flowed like a fluid, billowing, advancing, and retreating as it filled the valleys and washed over the hills. It spotted like a wildfire, with puffs appearing here and there ahead of it. The camera took photographs at regular intervals.

The Milky Way slid across the frame above. Humans turned on their lights, some zipping busily about below. The fog danced in the valley, up and down, forward and back, always gaining, filling the the spaces it found, approaching my position. Eventually the fog reached me, rolled over me, but then it retreated.

As the fog before me retreated, from behind the fog from the North Fork’s valley rose up and began streaming past. I could watch both fog banks from where I stood, and saw them rising to meet right each other precisely where I stood upon the ridge top. Soon the two seas of fog met beneath the glowing antennae of Pratt Mountain, a nipple on the ridge to my right, leaving the peak floating above it. Soon the peak was lost. I left at 02:30 AM, once the fog had gained total dominance and I could no longer keep the camera dry.