Field notes on mirages, road haze and the air that bends light.
On a hot afternoon the asphalt ahead looks flooded. That "water" is the sky, bent upward by a thin layer of hot air hugging the road — an inferior mirage. It keeps receding as you drive towards it, because the angle that makes it visible only exists at a distance.
Over a cold sea the layers flip: warm air rests on top of cold air, and distant ships and coastlines stretch into towers and cliffs that change shape by the minute. The name comes from Morgan le Fay, who was said to build castles in the air to lure sailors.
Heat haze is strongest around noon and at long focal lengths. For deliberate shimmer shots: 300 mm or more, a low vantage point close to the ground, a dark background behind the subject and a fast shutter to freeze the wobble.
Light travels slightly faster through warm, thin air than through cool, dense air, so a ray crossing a temperature gradient curves towards the cooler side. The brain assumes light travels in straight lines and places the image where it never was.
A small personal notebook. Photos and notes from roads, deserts and coastlines, posted whenever the air is hot enough.