Photographing a solar eclipse is deeply rewarding and slightly dangerous — the same focused sunlight that can blind you will also destroy an unfiltered camera sensor in seconds. This guide covers how to do it safely, what gear actually matters, and the settings that work, without drowning you in astrophotography jargon.

Read the eclipse safety guide first. Every rule about protecting your eyes applies to your lens as well. During all partial phases the Sun must be behind a certified solar filter.

Safety first: filter the lens, not the eyepiece

For the entire partial phase — which is roughly 75 minutes on either side of totality — you need a proper solar filter mounted on the front of the lens. Not screwed into the eyepiece, not held loosely in front, and never a stack of sunglasses or exposed film. Front-mounted filters made from certified solar film (brands such as Baader AstroSolar, Thousand Oaks and Lunt) block the visible, ultraviolet and infrared energy before it enters the optics.

If you are shooting through a phone, a small square of certified solar film taped over the camera lens does the same job. A pair of spare ISO 12312-2 eclipse glasses held over a phone lens works in a pinch. You can find certified filters and glasses on Amazon — disclosure: that is an affiliate link and we may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you.

The gear that actually matters

You can get a memorable shot with a phone, and a frame-filling one with a modest telephoto. In rough order of impact:

  • Focal length. The Sun and Moon are small in the sky — about half a degree. At 200 mm on a full-frame camera the solar disk is still tiny; 300–600 mm gives a satisfying frame-filling image. Below ~200 mm, plan a wide landscape shot with the eclipse as one element instead.
  • A sturdy tripod. Non-negotiable at long focal lengths. Even a light breeze or a finger on the shutter blurs the frame.
  • A remote release or the 2-second self-timer. So you are not jogging the camera at the moment of exposure.
  • A solar filter (see above), and a plan to remove it the instant totality begins.

Settings for the partial phase

With the solar filter on, the Sun is a dim orange disk. Shoot in manual:

  • ISO 100–200, aperture around f/8, and adjust shutter speed until the disk is cleanly exposed — often somewhere between 1/500s and 1/2000s, but it depends entirely on your specific filter, so test days before.
  • Focus manually on the Sun's edge (autofocus struggles on a smooth disk) and then leave it. Use live-view magnification to nail it.
  • Take a frame every few minutes to build a sequence of the Moon taking a bigger and bigger bite out of the Sun.

Totality: filter off, bracket everything

The moment totality begins — the diamond ring fades and the sky goes dark — take the filter off. The corona is roughly as bright as a full moon and will be black in your frames if you leave the filter on. Now the challenge reverses: the corona has an enormous brightness range, from the bright inner ring to faint outer streamers.

  • Keep ISO around 100–400, aperture f/8, and bracket your shutter speed wildly: from about 1/1000s (captures the inner corona and prominences) down to 1s or longer (captures the faint outer corona). No single exposure gets it all.
  • If your camera has it, set exposure bracketing and hold the shutter — let it fire a burst across the range.
  • Put the filter back on the instant the diamond ring reappears at the end of totality. From that second, partial-phase rules apply again.

Note that totality in Spain on 12 August 2026 lasts under two and a half minutes, and in many cities the Sun is very low over the western horizon. Your exact local timing is on each city page.

Phones are fine — and the corona is generous

Modern phones can capture totality surprisingly well because the corona is bright enough for their night modes. Steady the phone (a small tripod and clamp help enormously), tap to focus on the Sun, and lower the exposure so the corona is not blown out. During the partial phase, keep that filter over the lens.

Do not forget to actually watch

The most common regret of first-time eclipse photographers is spending the whole of a once-in-a-lifetime totality staring at a screen and fiddling with settings. Totality is short. Set the camera up to fire automatically, or take a couple of deliberate shots and then put the camera down and look up with your own eyes. The photographs are a bonus; the experience is the point.