You’ve seen them. Those glowing, neon-orange rivers of fire snaking down a dark mountain. Or maybe the ones where a massive, mushrooming plume of ash looks like it’s about to swallow a village in the Philippines or Iceland. Most pictures of the volcano erupting that go viral are breathtaking, but they’re also kind of a lie. Well, not a lie, exactly. More like a very specific, narrow slice of a much messier reality.
I’ve spent way too much time talking to geologists and professional landscape photographers like Chris Burkard or the folks at the USGS who actually stand near these things. What they’ll tell you is that what the camera captures and what your eyes actually process are two different worlds.
If you’re hunting for that perfect shot or just trying to understand why your own vacation photos from Hawaii or Sicily looked like a gray smudge, you have to understand light, distance, and the terrifying physics of tephra.
The Long Exposure Secret Behind the Glow
Ever wonder why the lava looks like a smooth, silky ribbon of light?
It’s the shutter speed. In reality, basaltic lava—the kind you see at Kilauea or Fagradalsfjall—often moves slower than a walking pace. It’s gooey. It’s crusty. It looks more like a moving pile of burnt marshmallows than a river of liquid sun. To get those iconic pictures of the volcano erupting with "motion blur," photographers leave the shutter open for 5, 10, or 30 seconds. This stacks the light. It makes the glow feel more intense than it actually appears to the naked eye during the day.
If you show up at noon expecting to see bright orange, you’re going to be disappointed. You’ll mostly see black rocks and a lot of shimmering heat haze. The magic happens at "blue hour." That’s the window right after sunset but before total darkness. That is when the ambient light of the sky balances perfectly with the thermal radiation of the magma.
Honestly, it’s a bit of a gamble.
One minute the wind shifts, and your entire frame is nothing but sulfurous white steam. It’s frustrating. But when it clears, and you see that contrast between the deep indigo sky and the incandescent core of the earth? That’s the shot.
✨ Don't miss: Weather at Kelly Canyon: What Most People Get Wrong
Why Scale Is Your Biggest Enemy
Volcanoes are big. Really big.
But in a photo, they often look like tiny hills. This is a classic problem in volcanology photography called "scale loss." Without a house, a person, or a very brave helicopter in the frame, the brain has no way to process that the "little" fountain of lava is actually 300 feet tall.
The Lens Choice Matters More Than You Think
Most people reach for a wide-angle lens. They want to "get it all in." This is usually a mistake. Wide lenses push the volcano away, making it look distant and non-threatening. Pro photographers often use "compression." This involves using a massive telephoto lens from miles away. By zooming in from a distance, the background (the volcano) appears to loom directly over the foreground (a town or trees). It creates that "impending doom" aesthetic that dominates news cycles.
It’s basically an optical illusion. A beautiful, terrifying illusion.
The Danger of "Ash Lightning" and How to See It
One of the rarest sights in pictures of the volcano erupting is volcanic lightning. It looks like something out of a Marvel movie. Scientists call it a "dirty thunderstorm." It’s not caused by clouds or rain, but by the friction of ash particles rubbing together as they’re blasted out of the vent at supersonic speeds. This creates static electricity.
When the charge builds up enough? Boom. Lightning inside the ash plume.
You saw this vividly during the 2020 eruption of Taal in the Philippines and the 2022 Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha'apai event. If you’re looking at photos of this, notice the color. It’s often more purple or blue than standard lightning.
🔗 Read more: USA Map Major Cities: What Most People Get Wrong
- Dry Eruptions: These produce more ash and thus more friction.
- Plinian Columns: These are the tall, vertical plumes where lightning is most common.
- Nighttime captures: You almost never see this during the day because the flash isn't bright enough to outshine the sun.
Getting Close Without, You Know, Dying
Don’t be the person who tries to take a selfie with a pyroclastic flow.
A pyroclastic flow is not lava. It’s a literal wall of hot gas and rock moving at 400 miles per hour. If you see it through your viewfinder and it’s getting bigger, you’re already dead.
The best pictures of the volcano erupting are taken using drones or high-powered optics from designated safe zones. In Iceland, the authorities are actually pretty chill about letting people get close-ish, but they have "gas rangers" who check for invisible CO2 pockets. In places like Indonesia, specifically Mount Bromo or Ijen, you can get closer, but the sulfur fumes will melt the electronics in your camera if you aren't careful.
Equipment Survival Tips
- Filters: A UV filter is a must. Volcanic glass (Vogel’s hair) is abrasive. It will scratch your lens element if you wipe it with a cloth.
- Weather Sealing: Ash is basically pulverized rock. It gets into every gear, every dial, and every sensor. If your camera isn't weather-sealed, wrap it in plastic.
- Tripods: Use a heavy one. Eruptions create their own weather systems, including intense localized winds.
The Cultural Impact of the Image
We have a weird obsession with these images. From the ruins of Pompeii to the 1980 Mount St. Helens photos taken by Robert Landsburg—who famously used his body to protect his film as the ash cloud overtook him—these pictures represent the ultimate lack of human control.
They remind us that the ground we walk on is just a thin crust.
When a photo of an eruption goes viral, it’s usually because it captures "the sublime." That’s the feeling of being simultaneously horrified and mesmerized. It’s why we click on them. It’s why we share them. We’re looking at the Earth literally recreating itself in real-time.
Capturing the Moment: Practical Steps
If you find yourself near an active site, stop chasing the "perfect" shot you saw on Instagram for a second. Look at the textures.
💡 You might also like: US States I Have Been To: Why Your Travel Map Is Probably Lying To You
Look for the Details
Instead of the whole mountain, look for "Pele’s Hair." These are thin strands of volcanic glass blown by the wind. They look like golden needles. Or look for "bombs"—blobs of lava that cooled in mid-air and took on an aerodynamic, football-like shape.
Smart Settings for Beginners
If you're using a phone, turn off your flash. It’s useless. Instead, use "Night Mode" but keep your hands extremely still. Better yet, prop the phone against a rock. If you have a manual mode, set your ISO to 400 and start with a 2-second exposure. Adjust from there.
Safety First
Check the Volcano Discovery updates or the local geological survey (like INGV in Italy or USGS in the States). They provide real-time maps of where it’s safe to stand. Never cross a rope line. The ground can look solid but be a thin "skylight" over a hollow lava tube.
The best way to experience a volcano is to take the photo, then put the camera down. The sound is something a picture can never capture—it sounds like a jet engine mixed with breaking glass. It’s a deep, rhythmic thumping that you feel in your chest. No JPEG can do that justice.
What to Do Before You Head Out
If you are planning a trip to a volcanic region like the Canary Islands, Hawaii, or Iceland, your first step is checking the Aviation Color Code. If it’s Red, you aren't getting anywhere near it. If it’s Orange, that’s your sweet spot for photography.
Pack a high-quality respirator—not a paper mask, but an N95 or P100 rated for organic vapors and acid gases. The "pretty" blue haze in your photos is actually sulfur dioxide, and it will burn your lungs long before the heat gets to you.
Check the local wind direction using an app like Windy.com. You always want the wind at your back. If the wind is blowing the ash toward you, not only is your photo going to be a blurry mess of gray dust, but your gear (and your health) will be trashed within minutes.
Finally, download a long-exposure app if you’re on a smartphone. These apps simulate a slow shutter by stacking multiple frames, giving you that creamy lava look without needing a $3,000 DSLR. Focus on the contrast, stay upwind, and respect the mountain. It was here long before you, and it’ll be here long after.