A Lucky Turn

into my driveway resulted in this

My love/hate relationship with my macro lens continues.

It's Not the Snake That Always Strikes

The little water snake slithered from the muddy bank into the water and I stood on stones and leaned and snapped, and moved down to new stones and leaned and snapped, and down again to new stones and leaned and snapped, legs spread far apart, and the right stone slid out from under my foot, and I stumbled forward and forward and forward into the water, holding the camera high like Lady Liberty the lamp.

The cellphone and spare camera battery are bagged in rice. The camera seems fine. My shoes are filthy and still wet. And the three of us -- my great-niece and great-nephew are recovering quietly.

I only wish my friend Sarah, who witnessed the event and laughed heartily, had been able to make good on this wish: "If only I had my cell camera to take a video!"

Here's What I Was Thinking When I Saw This Little Fellow on the Hot Sand (and I Mean *Hot*)

Aren't you burning up? 

Why are you sitting here in the sun? 

You're sure a long way from the water. 

You sure are cute.

And tiny.

Holy cow, compensating for the bright sun is hard. 

What? The shot is so orange! 

Macro photography is so dadgum hard.

One more shot.

Ok, little fellow, I'll pretend I haven't been leaning in on you on this whole time and take the wide way around. 

Good luck!

The Difference Size Makes

Issues: Size and focus.
To wit: Lancet Clubtail, featured yesterday, measures about 43mm (1.69 inches). Double-striped Bluet, the smallest bluet, measures between 21 (.826 inches) and 28mm (1.10 inches). Note that these numbers relate to length only. Girth is a whole other issue entirely.

Double-striped Bluet

less problematic was this newly emerged female Variable Dancer (29-35mm)

even less problematic was this mating pair of Skippers (wingspan open at about 1.25 to 1.625 inches)

Problem: Finding a tiny damselfly in the EVF or on the screen, focusing on it, and taking a decent photo.

Solution: Practice at home with a straight pin.

Panasonic Lumix GH3: Day 7

or, Why I Am Still Undecided though Leaning More Toward Than Away

Pros/Joys in
1/ discovery
2/ the Borrowers' perspective
3/ the challenge
4/ technology
5/ potential for growth in my work

Cons/Irritations due to
1/ awful EVF
2/ squirrely LCD, though I think I may have solved it today by learning a trick

Gratitude to
1/ Nick Coury of Dury's Camera in Nashville who showed me the GH4 and who encouraged me to rent before buying. I cannot thank him enough for his kindness, professionalism, careful listening, and investment in my needs and desires. As a friend wrote me last night, "Hoping your photosalesman can stay available as a trusted advisor. Being emotionally invested in your work is definitely not out of the question for people you ask to help you." Yes, me too.

Panasonic GH3 Day 4: The Quotidian

Today,
& every day,
here
& a world away, 
suffering is.
But so too 
the quotidian.

On that beauty
I shall think.

Panasonic GH3: Day 4, or Big Eyes

My friend and I saw the movie Big Eyes tonight, and though both of us remember those kitchy waifs and all the press they earned, the back story escaped me entirely. I'm not sure that Margaret Keane cared what art critic John Canaday said about her paintings. She said, or the actress playing her said, several times in the film that the paintings come from inside the artist.

I tried photographing some big eyes today, not very successfully. A 90mm macro is no match to a Fragile Forktail's three-quarters of an inch to one inch. I kept creeping closer and closer and more and more plant material kept getting in the way. In fact, I finally gave up and grabbed the superzoom. 

What you see isn't always what you get: a lesson from my frustrating photowalk this afternoon and the movie tonight.

Panasonic GH3: Day 2

Pros
1/ up close and personal portraits of dragonflies
2/ the pleasure of learning something new
3/ the pleasure of meeting another person who uses the camera
4/ manageability in heat and trekking

Cons
1/ missing the sandpipers right in front of me because of the macro
2/ golden hue (must color-correct)
3/ viewfinder (the smearing is the result of the coating having worn out, and as it turns out this is a frequent complaint among those who have purchased the camera)

This last con may well be the deal breaker.

Three Good Things on Earth Day

1. A colony of pink Lady's Slippers blossoming, in shade and sun.

2. A Russian photographer's macro magic show. Oh, Vyacheslav Mischenko, what wonders you us to behold!

3. The week's bounty, thanks to my half-share in a local CSA.

Lens Envy

Two days ago, I walked with a friend carrying a Nikon fitted with a 100mm macro lens.

Here's one photo he shot.

© Greg Petropoulos

Meanwhile, here's my best shot of an equally tiny bug.

Here's my response to his email:

Dear Greg,

That is the camera and lens I want and need.

I am now totally miserable.

I still like you, but . . . please tell me how I can afford that equipment.

Thank you,Robley

Then what? Emails to him and another friend about entry-level DSLRs, macro lenses, Canon and Nikon, and lots of plotting on my part to scratch up the money.

But first, I wonder. 

What image could I have gotten today of this female damselfly (newly out of the aquatic state) with Greg's equipment? Would I have had to take nearly a hundred shots as I did this morning to get something spectacular instead?

Up next: finagling another walk and a request to borrow the equipment for a shot or two. 

Stay tuned!

A Loan from a Friend

My friend Ronn has let me borrow his monopod or, as my friend Greg calls such things, his "stick." The monopod has a universal mount, so I can set my camera on it to steady my hand when shooting in super macro. The response time of a digital camera like mine is unforgiving: the slightest breath or involuntary muscluar adjustment spoils the picture.

Short of owning a stick, Ronn's loan is a treat indeed. I can't wait to experiment with it.

Learning a Camera

Although small enough to fit comfortably in a pocket, my camera holds more power than I ever imagined. I am discovering its versatility, especially its macro options, only because I have time and desire. For several days, I have been trying to learn what it can do. It's no easy task, although made easier by the very thing that contributes to its complexity: digital technology. I photograph indiscriminately, upload, view, and start winnowing, providing me with what someone described to me recently (and delightfully) as "structured procrastination." The things I mean to do -- like cleaning closets -- do not get done because I am doing the things that feed something other than necessity.I like that hunger, which I will never satisfy.

(Even with this post, I procrastinated, although not intentionally. I should have published it yesterday, but I forgot. Now I shall publish two today instead.)

Museum of Amazing Events

Leaf follows crocus and daffodil and forsythia so quickly that a casual once-a-day glance cannot satisfy.

After reading my camera guide to manual macro options again and again, slowly enough now to absorb at least some of the many startlingly sophisticated features, I wandered among the museum of amazing events taking place in my yard.

Like the birth and death of stars unfolding light-years away, unseen until Hubble and its scientists showed us distant events, my camera revealed similar endings and beginnings of great beauty.


No fanfare, really, no show -- just nature being.