Photographing the night sky requires more planning than most types of photography. You need dark skies, minimal moonlight, and the right timing for celestial objects to be visible. Get any of these wrong and you drive home with nothing.

I built MilkyWayPlanner.com to simplify this process. The tool shows you when and where conditions will be right for night sky photography at any location in the world.

Here is what the tool does and why it matters if you are interested in capturing the Milky Way, moon, or starry skies.

Why Night Sky Photography Needs Planning

Unlike landscape or portrait work, you cannot photograph the night sky whenever you feel like it. Several factors have to align.

Moon phase matters. A bright moon washes out the Milky Way and most stars. Serious night sky work happens during new moon phases or when the moon is below the horizon.

Timing is specific. The galactic core of the Milky Way is only visible during certain months and at certain times of night depending on your location. Miss the window and there is nothing to photograph.

Dark skies are essential. Light pollution from cities can ruin shots from dozens of miles away. You need to know where to go, not just when.

Planning tools help you figure out which nights work and which do not before you commit to a long drive.

The Free Annual Calendar

The core feature is a free calendar that shows Milky Way visibility for an entire year at any location.

Enter your location, select a year, and the tool generates a 12-month calendar with color-coded days. Green means excellent conditions. Yellow means fair. Gray means poor or no visibility.

You can see at a glance which weekends offer dark, moonless skies and which ones to skip. No more checking dates one at a time.

Each calendar includes a detailed breakdown of the best nights with sunrise and sunset times, moonrise and moonset times, and the exact window when the Milky Way core will be visible.

The calendar is shareable with a unique URL and downloadable as a PDF you can print.

Creating a calendar requires an email signup. You will receive occasional updates about astrophotography planning. Unsubscribe anytime.

Moon Planner

Moon photography is a separate discipline from Milky Way work. Instead of avoiding the moon, you are tracking it.

The Moon Planner shows moonrise and moonset times along with the compass direction for each. This helps you position yourself to capture the moon rising over a mountain ridge or setting behind a city skyline.

The planner identifies supermoon dates when the moon appears larger than normal. It also shows twilight times so you can photograph the moon against colorful skies rather than full darkness.

You can export moon data to a spreadsheet or sync it directly to your calendar app.

The Moon Planner requires a premium subscription.

Trip Planner

Multi-night photography trips add complexity. You need to know conditions at multiple locations across multiple dates.

The Trip Planner lets you build itineraries with several stops. Add locations, assign dates to each stop, and see visibility conditions for every night of your trip.

This helps you structure a road trip so you are at the right place on the right night. No more arriving at a location only to find the moon blazing overhead.

You can export complete trip itineraries to a spreadsheet or sync them to your calendar with all stops and optimal shooting times included.

Trip data stays private. Only you can see your itineraries.

The Trip Planner requires a premium subscription.

The Planning Hub

Premium subscribers get access to a unified dashboard with all three planners in one place.

The hub includes location management for saving your favorite dark sky spots. You can build a personal library of shooting locations and quickly pull up conditions for any of them.

Export options include Excel spreadsheets with complete astronomical data and ICS files that sync with Google Calendar, Apple Calendar, or Outlook.

What It Costs

The annual calendar is free with email signup.

Premium access costs $25 per year and includes the Moon Planner, Trip Planner, unlimited saved locations, and all export features.

Getting Started

If you have thought about trying night sky photography but felt overwhelmed by the planning, start with a free calendar. Enter a location near you, pick this year, and see which nights offer the best conditions.

The tool handles the astronomical calculations. You just need to show up with your camera.

Visit MilkyWayPlanner.com to create your first calendar.

I used to waste a lot of nights chasing the Milky Way. I’d check the moon phase, pick a date that looked good, drive an hour or two to a dark location, and then watch clouds roll in. Or I’d arrive to find the galactic core wasn’t where I expected it to be. Or the moon would rise at 1 AM and wash out the sky before I got the shots I wanted. My Milky Way planning was basically guesswork.

After too many failed trips, I built a system for Milky Way planning. Now I rarely get skunked. The difference comes down to planning at the right times with the right tools.

Here’s the process I follow for every astrophotography session.

Milky Way Planning Starts Months Out: Picking the Right Dates

Most astrophotographers plan a week or two ahead. I plan months ahead. This gives me flexibility to work around the weather, travel schedules, and life.

The first thing I check is when the Milky Way’s galactic core will be visible at my location. The core is the bright, detailed center section that makes for compelling photographs. It’s only visible during certain months, and the timing shifts depending on where you live.

I also need to know the moon phase. A bright moon washes out the Milky Way. I’m looking for nights when the moon sets before the core rises, or rises after I’m done shooting.

Checking this information one date at a time gets tedious fast. I built MilkyWayPlanner.com to solve this Milky Way planning problem. It shows me an entire season of shooting windows on one screen. I can scan three or four months and immediately spot the best opportunities based on moon phase and core visibility. What used to take an hour of clicking through dates now takes five minutes.

Once I identify promising dates, I block them on my calendar. Having multiple options means I’m not locked into one night that might have bad weather.

Weeks Out: Finding Dark Skies

With dates selected, I turn to location. Light pollution ruins astrophotography faster than almost anything else. Even a moderately dark sky produces dramatically better results than shooting from a suburban backyard.

I use Dark Site Finder and Light Pollution Map to identify dark locations within driving distance. Both sites overlay satellite data showing light pollution levels. The color coding makes it easy to see how far I need to drive to escape the urban glow.

For trips to new areas, I’ll also check the DarkSky International database of certified dark sky parks and reserves. These locations actively manage lighting to protect dark skies. They’re often worth the extra drive.

At this stage, I’m also thinking about the foreground. A dark sky alone doesn’t make an interesting photograph. I want something in the frame: a mountain, a barn, a twisted tree, interesting rock formations. Google Earth and satellite imagery help me scout potential compositions before I commit to a location.

One to Two Weeks Out: Milky Way Planning Gets Specific

This is when planning gets specific. I know my dates and general location. Now I need to figure out exactly where to stand and when to shoot.

I use PhotoPills for this. The app’s augmented reality mode lets me point my phone at a scene and see where the Milky Way will appear at any time on any date. I can visit a location during the day, stand in my planned shooting spot, and confirm that the galactic core will rise over that ridgeline or align with that old barn.

Stellarium serves a similar purpose on desktop. I can input my location, set the date and time, and see exactly what the sky will look like. The framing feature lets me plug in my camera and lens specs to preview my actual field of view. This helps me decide what focal length I need.

For deep-sky targets, I use Telescopius to see how objects will appear with my specific equipment. The mosaic planning tool is useful when I want to capture something larger than my sensor’s field of view.

The goal at this stage is to eliminate surprises. I want to arrive knowing exactly where to set up, what time the core will be in position, and what focal length to use. The less I fumble in the dark, the more time I spend shooting.

Three to Five Days Out: Watching the Weather

Weather determines whether any of this planning matters. Clear skies are non-negotiable.

I start monitoring Astrospheric about five days before my planned shoot. The app provides astronomy-specific forecasts showing cloud cover at different altitudes, atmospheric transparency, and seeing conditions. The free version covers the basics. I also check Clear Outside, which uses a different forecasting model and sometimes catches things Astrospheric misses.

This far out, forecasts aren’t reliable enough to make final decisions. But they give me a sense of whether the night looks promising or if I should start thinking about backup dates.

I check both apps once or twice a day, watching for trends. Is the forecast improving or getting worse? If I have multiple dates blocked, the weather forecast often determines which one I commit to.

Day Before and Day Of: Go or No-Go

The day before my planned session, I’m checking weather obsessively. I want to see agreement between Astrospheric and Clear Outside. If both show clear skies, I feel confident. If they disagree, I dig deeper into the models.

On the day of the shoot, I add satellite imagery to my checks. I look at current cloud positions and animated loops showing which direction weather is moving. Actual observations tell you more than any forecast.

I make my final go/no-go decision a few hours before I need to leave. Driving two hours to sit under clouds isn’t my idea of a good time. If conditions look marginal, I’ll sometimes drive partway and reassess. But usually, if the forecast is questionable, I stay home and wait for a better night.

On Location: Final Adjustments

Even with careful planning, things change once I’m in the field. The composition I visualized might not work from ground level. Terrain features I couldn’t see on satellite imagery might block my shot. The foreground element might be smaller or larger than expected.

I use PhotoPills one more time to confirm my composition and timing. Small adjustments are normal. The planning gets me 90% of the way there. The last 10% happens on location.

If conditions change during the night, weather apps help me decide whether to wait out passing clouds or pack up. Having cell coverage isn’t guaranteed in remote dark sky locations, so I usually check conditions one final time before I lose signal.

The Payoff for Good Milky Way Planning

This process sounds involved, but it becomes second nature. The planning itself takes maybe 30 minutes spread across several weeks. What I get in return is confidence. I show up knowing the conditions are right, the composition will work, and I won’t waste a night.

The failed trips taught me that astrophotography rewards preparation. The best images come from nights where everything aligns: dark skies, clear weather, good timing, and an interesting foreground. Planning increases the odds of that alignment.

I still get skunked occasionally. Weather forecasts fail. Unexpected clouds appear. That’s part of the game. But the ratio of successful nights to wasted drives has improved dramatically since I started planning this way.

If you’re serious about astrophotography, build a system that works for you. Use tools that answer your specific questions at each stage of planning. And give yourself enough lead time to have options when conditions don’t cooperate.

P.S. — Check out my photography for more shots like this.

Veterans don’t ask for recognition. They move through our world with quiet dignity, carrying experiences most of us will never understand. You might pass them on the street – young and old, from wars past and present – their service written not in their words but in their bearing, their actions, their silent understanding of what it means to put everything on the line for something greater than themselves.

They don’t talk much about what they’ve done. The greatest acts of courage often live in the quiet spaces between words. Instead, they share knowing looks, slight nods, the unspoken language of those who’ve walked through fire together. Each carries stories of others’ courage, remembered and passed down in reverent tones.

I think of Mac, who spent countless nights on watch so others could sleep. Who taught every new arrival how to stay alive, who gave everything he had to protect his ‘boys’. His name isn’t on any monument, but his sacrifice lives on in the people he taught and saved.

And Walters, the largest man to ever wear an Army uniform, a gentle giant. Liam, who spent hours during a firefight taking care of Scotty and his injuries while also pouring fire on the enemy, then shrugged it off as “just doing my job.” Donnie, who threw himself over a fellow soldier when the mortars got too close, never once thinking about the cost.

These acts of heroism echo through generations. Like my dad, who never speaks of his time in Vietnam – he went there, did what duty demanded, and came home to build a life. Brian, my niece’s husband, moves between deployments in Afghanistan and Korea with quiet dignity, doing what his country asks without complaint. Different generations, same unwavering spirit.

These are the quiet heroes. The ones who run toward danger while others run away. The ones who trade graduation gowns for body armor, birthday parties for midnight watches, and first homes for concrete barriers. Who miss their children’s first steps while serving in foreign lands and who celebrate anniversaries through grainy video calls that cut out mid-sentence.

They carry weights most will never understand. Not just in their rucksacks but in their hearts and minds. The names of fallen brothers and sisters. The memories of moments when courage meant standing fast while everything inside screamed to run. The weight of decisions that meant life or death.

You see them now in your everyday life – teaching in schools, working in offices, walking down streets, driving a tractor. They don’t ask for recognition. They don’t tell war stories at parties. But if you look closely, you’ll see it – in how they position themselves in rooms, respond to sudden sounds, and watch over others.

Some gave everything in places most of us can’t pronounce. Others came home carrying pieces of those places in their minds, their dreams, and the spaces between heartbeats. All of them gave something. Many still give, serving their communities, supporting fellow veterans, and standing ready to answer the next call.

The bonds they forged in service transcend time and space. A veteran of Afghanistan can share a knowing look with a veteran of Vietnam – different wars, same brotherhood. A young Marine can sit in silent understanding with an aging Air Force vet – different branches, same heart of service.

So today, we honor them. Not with grand speeches or parades alone but with recognition of their ongoing courage. The courage it takes to come home and build a new life. The courage to face the memories. The courage to keep serving, keep giving, keep carrying the weight.

They stood their watch in the frozen hills of Korea and the steaming jungles of Vietnam. In the burning sands of Kuwait and Iraq. In the towering peaks of Afghanistan and the depths of countless seas. They kept their promise through the coldest nights and darkest hours, from generation to generation. Whether their service is marked in history books or only in their hearts, they carried the weight of our future on their shoulders.

They carried it yesterday.

They carry it today.

And tomorrow, a new generation will step forward to carry it again.

This Veterans Day, as flags wave and parades march, remember that the true meaning of this day lives not in the ceremonies, but in the quiet sacrifices made year-round. It lives in the veteran working next door, in the old warrior who still stands straight and proud, in the young service member preparing for their next deployment.

It lives in the promise we make to remember. Not just today, but every day. Not just their service, but their continued sacrifice. Not just what they did, but who they are.

For every veteran – past, present, and future – this day belongs to you. Your stories, your courage, your unwavering spirit remind us of what it truly means to serve something greater than ourselves.

My first job out of college was a doozy.

I graduated from Oklahoma State University with a Master of Science in Electrical Engineering, specializing in wireless telecommunications.  In my last semester, I found a job in the technology-heavy Research Triangle Park area around Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina.

The company I went to work for was a telecommunication hardware provider building various systems for the telecom industry. The company was headquartered in Ohio and had just opened its “research division” near Cary, NC. The starting salary wasn’t bad for that period, and the perks were decent. They even paid to move me to the area from Oklahoma.

I had done some contract software testing at WorldCom while in grad school, but this was my first real corporate job. I moved from Oklahoma, where I spent most of my day watching Andy Griffith while studying in my apartment, to North Carolina, where I was commuting 25 minutes to work and sitting in a cubicle all day.

The change was an eye-opener—not just the move across the country but the absolute mind-blowing idea that—as a responsible adult—I was being forced to use my company badge to ‘sign in/out’ of work and was expected to be in my cubicle working (and work was not occurring unless you were on-site). Now, this was before the internet was really ‘big’ and everyone was still on dial-up, so the idea of remote work wasn’t really a thing.

So…I went to work every day, sat in my cubicle, and started getting comfortable with life in a corporate setting. I would interact with people and work with others, but for the most part, I worked alone due to the rest of the team I was a part of being in Ohio.

After about two months, I started getting antsy. The project I was assigned to did not look great from a longevity standpoint. They were building a gateway to take incoming dial-up modem calls and route that traffic off of the public switched telephone network onto an ATM network. The idea was to reduce the data traffic on the phone lines.  But – even I – a young, non-experienced kid from Oklahoma – could see that the technology was behind the trend as many companies were already moving from modem traffic to DSL and cable for the internet. It was still early, but those approaches looked to be the long-term winner (and in hindsight, they were).

One Sunday afternoon, I received a phone call from the company HR rep asking me not to go to the office the following day but instead go to a hotel conference room across town. Now, I was young and inexpereinced and had absolutley no idea why they’d ask for this, but…I found out quickly the following day,

That Monday morning, I pulled into the hotel parking lot and saw a few of the people I worked with.  I walked up to one of the older guys who had been a bit of a mentor to me (I wish I could remember his name!). His first (and only words) to me that morning were to “get your resume ready.”

The 50+ employees of the ‘research division’ were milling around the conference room at the hotel when the company’s CEO came out and told us that the research division was being shut down and all employees were no longer employed. Each person got a severance based on their time at the company and would have a few minutes with an HR Representative to discuss their severance package.

When it was my turn to talk to the HR people, I found that I had four weeks of severance and the option to be moved back to Oklahoma. In the late ’90s, there weren’t many technology jobs in Oklahoma, so I opted to stay in North Carolina and look for another job, hoping I could find one in four weeks (and I did… but that’s a story for another blog post).

The point of this post isn’t just to ramble and reminisce but to share my learnings from that experience.

What did I learn?

• I hated sitting in a cubicle (even though I would be in a cubicle in one form or another for a number of years after).
• I hated the “ass-in-seat” mentality of most old-school managers.
• I learned to be adaptable and open to change.
• I learned that regardless of the situation or length of time at a company, one must always look deeply at the company’s strategy and long-term prospects.
• I learned to always be prepared for unexpected job changes. Loyalty is no longer a thing in most organizations.
• I took the challenge of the job loss and embraced it as a learning opportunity.

This is part of a new series that I’m starting called “Has Eric learned anything at all during his career?

Factory Butte, Hanksville, Utah – Golden hour magic.

The rugged splendor of Factory Butte becomes truly mesmerizing during the golden hour. As the sun dips below the horizon, the vast desert sky transforms into a canvas painted with vibrant shades of purple and pink. This iconic landscape, with its stark, wind-sculpted buttes, is highlighted by the ethereal glow of the setting sun, making it a photographer’s dream and a nature lover’s paradise. The interplay of light and shadow across the craggy terrain accentuates this remarkable Utah landmark’s wild, untamed beauty.

This post is a bit different than most of my blog posts. I wanted to highlight a fantastic trip I took in September 2023 to Reflection Canyon near Escalante, Utah.

This hike is roughly 16 miles round-trip. I did it over two days, hiking in on day 1, camping on day 2, and hiking out on day 2. Few people make this hiking trip due to its grueling nature (and yes, it was grueling). What makes it grueling? The hiking trail was not well marked; there was a lot of hiking on slick rock, and the sun was beating down on us (even though it was only 72 degrees).

Getting to the Reflection Canyon Trailhead

To get to the trailhead, you’ll take Highway 12 southeast out of Escalante, UT, for about 5 miles. You’ll turn onto the Hole-in-the-rock Road (BLM200) and drive for about 50.5 miles. The trailhead is not marked, but you’ll know you are there when you see a bunch of Slickrock on the sides that look like parking (and perhaps there will be other vehicles there).

A Google Maps screenshot is attached below for reference.

Hiking Reflection Canyon:

1. Trailhead: The hike begins at a nondescript pull-off along Hole-in-the-Rock Road. The GPS location for the trailhead can be found here.
2. Distance and Difficulty: The hike is roughly 16 to 20 miles round trip (depending on your route) and is considered strenuous due to the lack of defined trails, steep inclines, and the need to carry all your water and supplies.
3. Navigation: GPS and map navigation skills are essential, as the route is not marked. You must navigate through desert terrain, including slickrock, sandy washes, and rocky ledges. I used the all-trails route and took the “lower” route to Reflection Canyon. You can find that route here. I also used Gaia GPS to keep an eye on the route – you can find the Gaia route here.
4. Best Time to Visit: Spring (April-May) and fall (September-October) are ideal due to milder temperatures. Summer hikes are not recommended due to extreme heat, sun exposure, and the lack of water sources.
5. Permits: A backcountry permit from the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area is required for overnight trips. You can get a permit at many of the more significant/official trailheads on Hole-in-the-Rock Road.
6. Be Prepared: Have plenty of water. And more water. Print out a paper copy of the map and be knowledgeable about navigating without electronic devices if you lose your phone (or its battery). Take an external GPS device like a Garmin (one with an SOS is preferred).

Notes on Reflection Canyon

• Take plenty of water—more than you think you’ll need. There is usually no water on the trail. There may be a few puddles after rain but plan on no water.
• Start early. Beat the sun and the heat and get onto the trail early. Start early, whether overnight or hiking in/out in one day. This will let you take your time hiking in (and out) and beat the afternoon sun.
• Be prepared to stake your tent without stakes. There are some grassy/sandy areas to pitch a tent in, but most of the area is rock. Take some rope to tie to rocks to tie your test down.
• This area is “pack it in / pack it out,” including your waste.

What I carried on the hike:

In/on my pack, I carried the following (See the next photo for a good pic of my pack) items:

• Garmin GPSMAP® 67i (with inReach technology)
• iPhone
• Paper map and compass
• Camera/Lenses/Tripod
• Food/snacks
• First Aid Kit
• Personal Care items (Toilet Paper, Wag Bags, etc)
• Change of clothes
• 1-person lightweight tent
• lightweight/warm weather sleeping bag
• Ten gallons of Water (3 gallons per day + extra for cooking). NOTE: I ran out of water about a mile before the end on the way out….I should have carried much more.

My pack weighed in at 48 pounds(!).

Aside from running out of water about a mile from the trailhead on day 2, the only other negative was the blisters. I made the idiotic mistake of buying new socks for the hike. The socks turned out to be too big and immediately started causing issues and blisters. When I finished the hike, I had two massive blisters across both feet and lost 3 toenails. The blisters and toenails weren’t a fun experience, but it only slightly diminished my enjoyment on this trip.

Here are a few more pictures:

I explored the Factory Butte area during my last trip to Hanksville, Utah. There, I stumbled upon a fascinating little opening in a rock formation. It looked promising for a unique photo.

I was right.

Captured at sunrise, this shot really captures the serene beauty and rugged charm of Utah.

Captured with a Sony A7R IV and a Sony 70-200 f4 G lens.

Today’s photograph is from the Moon Overlook near Hanksville, Utah.

The play of light, shadow, and color grabs the eye.

Hanksville, Utah, is a small town that acts as an entry point to some of the most striking landscapes in the American West. The area is a haven for adventurers and photographers, featuring diverse geological formations and wide, scenic views. You can explore the rough terrain of Goblin Valley State Park with its unique rock shapes, or the vast, open spaces of Capitol Reef National Park. The region is full of opportunities for exploration and photography.

If you’ve been to Hanksville, you know each corner offers a chance to see the stunning beauty of nature. Maybe you’ve walked through the Mars-like hills and valleys, or enjoyed the peace beside the rivers that snake through the desert.

Today’s photograph is a black-and-white of the Henry Mountains near Hanksville, Utah. I’m still working through all my photos from my last trip and keep finding some really nice ones. Enjoy.

Captured with a Sony A7R IV and a Sony 70-200 f4 G lens.