Tip Jar 31: Film

great white heron Ardea occidentalis in shallow sound off Florida Keys, on Fuji Provia
I’ve never seen digital produce this kind of depth in the blue hues – this is a scan of Fuji Provia 100F, and still lost a bit when converting to 36-bit color in the scan

This is just a quick rundown on shooting film, should you decide to give it a try. I admit that I haven’t shot film in years – and still have several film cameras in good condition, numerous rolls of film, and a complete darkroom packed away that may get set up before too long, since I have an ideal space for it now. If all you’ve shot is digital, the good news is, damn near everything translates to film pretty well, and I’ll cover those few things that don’t.

Equipment. Because of digital, film cameras in good condition can be had for a fraction of what they once did – like, less than $50 easily. The collectible cameras still demand higher prices, but just something more-than-capable? If you put the word out among enough people, you’ll be given one. As a general rule, anything from the era just before digital came into regular use, so the 90’s through the early 00’s, generally can be obtained for a song, and new enough not to have issues most times. The bigger challenge may be getting batteries, since some of them took specialty batteries common to film cameras that dropped out of regular availability.

testing Olympus OM-1 cameraKnowing it’s in good shape? There’s no easy test (especially if there are no batteries handy,) but check the movement of the settings and the lens rings, look for excessive wear or evidence that it wasn’t stored well, like unclear glass or mildew residues, especially in the finer cracks of the body where people’s cleaning efforts often miss. If the camera is working, set for 1/2 second shutter speed, preferably with a lens attached and set to f16, and trip the shutter a few times. The double-click of the shutter opening and closing should be consistent and easy to time by ear, and you should see the aperture quickly close down and open again each time – these are the things that tend to stick if improperly stored.

Medium format equipment has dropped so drastically in price, given that it was always considered professional equipment, that now is the time to get into it if you’re interested, and it’s typically been stored and handled quite well. Typically, it is quality equipment, too – there were never any consumer or tourist lenses or bodies produced, so there’s almost no such thing as a bad buy.

rolls of Fuji NPH, Velvia, and Provia 100FWhat film? Depends on what you want to do. The common print films are not only the easiest to find, you’re more likely to find places to develop it and make prints. The quality, however, tended towards the lower end, and the longevity, even with proper storage, was never that good. One thing to know is, film not only ages, it’s susceptible to heat, so the rolls someone finds in an old camera bag are not going to produce the same results as new. Should you find someone clearing out their stock that they maintained in a refrigerator or freezer, however, go for it. And you can still buy it new.

The specialty portrait films, such as Fuji NPS/NPH and the Kodak Portra line, make digital portraiture look lackluster – I remember flipping through the first prints I took on NPH and being blown away by the color rendition. I still can’t believe these were virtually abandoned for the unchanging color palette of CMOS sensors…

Slide film still produces the best colors overall, and the longevity is many times better than print film – though some of this might be due to the labs processing it, since chemical changes, adequate fixing times, and precise temperatures help significantly, something the commonly-available labs like one-hour places in the mall did not typically engage in – I know, I worked in one, moreover one that prided itself on producing ‘quality’ results and yet had the cheapest chemicals and the least-maintained equipment (they definitely felt that calling it ‘quality’ would work on most people, and couldn’t be bothered to learn what the word actually meant.)

However, if you’re considering doing your own developing (and you should, if you’re this far,) monochrome “B&W” print film is the way to go, at least at the start. It’s also easy to obtain and still provides a decent variety of types available. Ilford HP5+ is a great place to start.

What you give up from digital. The first is, not only can you not immediately chimp at the image in the preview LCD, you’re going to wait to see the results. If you’re experimenting, keep written notes, because there will be no EXIF info to refer to. Also, learning how to calculate flash power and guide numbers will have to serve in lieu of test shots to see if the lighting is correct.

You will be locked in to a single ISO for the entire roll. Also, changing rolls may have to happen more often than you think – I always used 36-exposure rolls (in 35mm format anyway) just to avoid having to do this more frequently. When shooting weddings or events, I often unloaded a roll before it was finished to have a fresh set of 36 exposures awaiting me if some particular action was anticipated, like the cake cutting or first dance kind of thing – there’s nothing more annoying than missing some prime image because you’re trying to slap a new roll into the camera.

You will be locked into a particular color-palette and contrast for the entire roll, too. When shooting slide film, I would occasionally unload a roll partway through because I now had need of a greater saturation than what I was using; the partial roll would be put into a film can and the frame noted on top, so I could reload it later, something the Canon EOS line at least permitted, perfectly accurately too – aligning frames the exact same way could otherwise be hit or miss, and if it weren’t for the IR frame counters on those cameras, I would wind a few frames past the known last to avoid overlap.

Exposure metering can be wildly different. If you have a relatively recent body, things might not be too different – the Canon EOS line had most of the same metering options as their current digitals. The older you go, the more likely you are to find only center-weighted metering, or none at all, and this takes a little forethought to use effectively.

Film cameras tended to aim for more specific users. If you use exposure-bracketing or compensation, second-curtain sync, flash exposure compensation, or other specialty options, you would likely have to look for the higher-end film bodies to have these – it was with the advent of digital that manufacturers began including these on nearly all bodies. Finding an inexpensive Pentax or Minolta typically means doing without.

Getting film digitized. So, yes, we operate in a largely digital world now, especially since you’re reading this on a screen, and having your images available that way is certainly compelling. However, basic film scanners that can do 35mm negatives or slides can be found for under $50 anymore, certainly not the case when I began (and the scanners I still use, purchased many years ago, are all much higher-end models.) Some developing labs will offer digital copies as an option, while you might have to find a specialty service if yours does not. Let’s put it this way: If you get hooked and start shooting film even semi-regularly, you’ll save money in the long run by investing in a scanner, and probably have a lot more control over the results too.

Be warned, though: Every film has a different base color cast, though monochrome is the least variable. Getting good results from scans of a negative/print film can be tricky and require a lot of fiddling, and I have yet to find a software that makes this easy.

I have also just photographed, digitally, a print laid flat to the camera. You still have to account for color casts, especially from the lighting used, but if you use an 18% grey card as a background and shoot a little wide, you have an easy white-balance reference. The resolution is more than enough for any web work, and usually to get another print made. I’ve also done this with a glass plate negative.

author's darkroom from years back, in self-developed monochrome
One of my old darkrooms, developed right there too
Developing your own. I’m not going to go into a step-by-step process on this here – there are plenty of resources for this online and in books. But I will say, getting to a monochrome negative is amazingly easy and requires a minimal investment in equipment and chemicals. Literally, a developing tank, a film reel that holds your format (typically 35mm,) a good thermometer that can get wet, and three chemicals: developer, stop bath, and fixer. Add a wetting agent for better results. You have to get the film from the can to the developing reel in total darkness, requiring a halfway decent grasp of doing this by feel, and then once this is in the developing tank, the rest can be done in daylight (though reduced light is more recommended, in case of small leaks.) One tank of film, be it one roll or four, can be done in roughly 30 minutes, add another 30-60 minutes until it’s dry enough to do something with. It’s stupidly easy, but follow the pointers that are provided, and monitor your chemical temperatures carefully, especially because developer temperature alters developing time. In less than an hour, you’ll be hanging negatives that you developed yourself in the shower stall to dry, and it’s fascinating to watch the little images unroll from the reel, with a surge of pride because you did it all.

Printing is more involved, but not a lot. For this you need the same three chemicals (only aimed for prints instead,) print paper, print trays, an easel, a timer, a safelight, and most especially, an enlarger. These can be found for as little as $40-50, if you’re not outright given one by a previous enthusiast, but the average cost for a used enlarger seems to run roughly $150, with a lot of variation. If you’re really getting into it, a condenser enlarger is better, since it distributes the light source more evenly, but these tend to be more expensive (and larger.) However, all this can be set up in a bathroom (you’ll want running water,) even temporarily – counter space for the three trays of chemicals, and of course the enlarger, is the demand, but doors as light-tight as you can get them help a lot. But again, it’s not hard.

Color work is more demanding and requires more chemicals, plus an enlarger with a color head to account for the different color casts of print films – I admit that I never went this far, because monochrome was enough fun for home developing. But seriously, look this up if you have the faintest interest, because home developing is probably easier than you imagined.

So if shooting film intrigues you, or you want a greater breadth of photographic experience, don’t hesitate – it’s not that involved, and can be a lot of fun, with some additional challenges thrown in. Have at it!

variety of plants in Butterfly House of Museum of Life and Science, Durham NC
Again, I’ve never seen digital produce colors anything like Fuji Velvia

Yay! First oak-leaf anole!

newborn Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis on oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifolia
I’m not quite going to make this in July, but so be it. Late at night on the 31st, I found the first newborn Carolina anole (Anolis carolinensis) on the oak-leaf hydrangeas (Hydrangea quercifolia.)

Here’s the deal: At old Walkabout Estates, we’d planted a few oak-leaf hydrangeas, which became well-established and were a huge favorite of the anoles, and I have hundreds of photos of the two. We attempted to transplant some cuttings when we moved here, but they never took, and this spring we finally purchased a couple from a nursery and got them started in the yard. They’ve been getting established, and just now, I found the first anole snoozing on a leaf of one.

Last year, there were countless (meaning counted) anoles sleeping on various plants around the yard in late summer, chief among them a couple of Japanese maples right outside the door to Walkabout Studios. For some reason, this isn’t even remotely happening this year, and I have yet to find one on any maple, or indeed most of the plants in the backyard – I don’t get the impression we’re gonna set a new record this year, but it might still be too early.

Still, it’s a good sign, and I’m pleased – you know where to send congratulatory cards and checks…

Grey, part three: The boids

Finally cleaning out the pics from this past weekend’s two outings, this time concentrating on the birds on a foggy morning. We’ve already gotten a decent impression of how foggy from the previous post about it, so you understand why we have images that look like this:

osprey Pandion haliaetus perched on tree in predawn fog on Jordan Lake
This osprey (Pandion haliaetus) had announced its presence earlier, when another flew overhead – osprey are vocal about their territory. So it wasn’t hard to find it, though we never would have if it had just kept its beak shut. This is roughly 20 meters off, so yeah, the fog was thick.

osprey Pandion haliaetus perched in predawn fog on Jordan Lake
It remained there the entire time we were within sight, which was better than 30 minutes – and in fact, it might have been there for many hours, since we heard someone defending territory from the same general location the previous evening before sunset. Obviously, it knew we were there, but we were distant enough (and only visible through breaks in the trees) not to send it off elsewhere.

There was another, out towards the end of the point we were on, perched out on a very visible branch, also disinclined to fly off. And also aware of us.

osprey Pandion haliaetus perched against open sky in predawn fog on Jordan Lake
We made it a point not to approach too closely, so we might catch it as it headed out to hunt when the light was better, or conversely, to photograph it in first light if the sun broke through, since it was in an ideal position for this. Neither actually happened. But someone else was out hunting already, quite successfully I might add.

osprey Pandion haliaetus perched in pine thicket with large captured fish in one talon, predawn fog
This one flew in and landed not very far away from the previous osprey, who appeared to take virtually no notice. While I liked this for the eye barely peeking past the pine needles, I hadn’t realized until editing it that the bird was only perched on one leg, the other held out awkwardly because of the size of the fish it had captured. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one standing like this – usually the fish is draped over the branch and the bird is standing on it.

It took off and we followed it, but again, I wasn’t remembering that I’d switched off exposure compensation for shooting into the trees, so the resulting image was a bit dark, which I left as-is for the illustration because lightening it would add very little anyway.

osprey Pandion haliaetus flying off with captured fish against foggy predawn sky, no exposure compensation
It was about this point that it became obvious the osprey had captured a fish, because it wasn’t visible through the viewfinders before. Bear in mind, the portraits are usually cropped, though I think this one is full-frame, and what we see through the viewfinder is much smaller than this – even if you’re on a smutphone (why you would be doing that, I don’t know, but some people are weird.) Also note the difference in the area surrounding the bird, in both pics. Even with Evaluative Metering, the ‘focus zone’ where the bird sits only gets a portion of the bird, so that becomes averaged with the background color. In the tree, it was fine – the foliage was roughly average brightness. But the sky was much brighter, the bird too small against it, so to see the bird decently, you have to adjust for the metering system ‘thinking’ the sky is the target. I tell my students, “If it’s bright, make it brighter” – doesn’t seem to make sense, until you realize the camera’s going to make it darker to reach that mid-tone it’s programmed for; you’re just putting it back where it belongs.

Someone else was running around out there – for once, actually not too far away and remaining in view.

killdeer Charadrius vociferus on shore of Jordan lake in predawn fog
Killdeers (Charadrius vociferus) are notoriously shy and a bit hyperactive, and my experience with them at Jordan Lake has been seeing them briefly before they vacate the premises. so this one was being quite cooperative in running around in the shallows – not close, but obviously not too far away either. And when I say cooperative, this is ignoring how often it was running among the grasses or behind rocks and stumps, causing the autofocus to keep grabbing other things. My attempts to get it with its reflection in the water beneath were all thwarted, mostly by the foam and debris at the water’s edge, partially by the killdeer not getting alongside a large enough open patch. This view shows off the coloration decently, but now watch as we get more of a portrait angle.

killdeer Charadrius vociferus looking anxious solely from viewing angle and facial markings
Suddenly looks worried about something, doesn’t it? But since birds really can’t change expression, all we have is a different perspective on those facial markings, a better view of the wide eyes and some patches that resemble eyebrows to us. I love when things like this happen…

We’ll return to this guy in a moment, but first, a peek at the only other birds to show that morning (not counting the herons we’ve already seen.)

bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus vanishing into distance on foggy predawn morning over Jordan Lake
This was the only glimpse we got of a bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) while down there – I was kind of counting on seeing more, since the area I’m now in doesn’t present many opportunities, but admittedly this wasn’t the best time of day. We even very carefully checked the tree which had held the vomit eagle, since we were right underneath it, but funny, the eagle was no longer there. I really have to make the effort to return during nesting and fledgling season, when the activity over the lake will be at peak.

And this guy:

black vulture Coragyps atratus perched very close by with lone white downy feather on head
We discovered this black vulture (Coragyps atratus) very close by, less than half the distance than to the killdeer, and apparently it had been there the entire time as we walked past, but we would have had to turn around to see it past the intervening foliage. It flew off soon after this, but had been there for close to an hour earlier as we walked right past it, five meters up and ten or so away, so I’m guessing the sky wasn’t light enough for it to feel safe flying, or since we weren’t looking in its direction at the time it didn’t feel as anxious. That stray downy feather provides a certain roguish air, don’t you think?

And a couple of edits, tweaking the colors to reduce the fog-driven blue hues.

osprey Pandion haliaetus perched in predawn fog over Jordan Lake, tweaked to reduce fog color cast
Same one as earlier, this time showing that it was largely ignoring us, as well as the swarm of small insects that it appeared to be within. Originally I had taken the color tweak too far and it had an unnatural reddish hue to me – it shouldn’t be perfectly white-balanced, because the light really was blue-grey and we expect to see it slightly off in such low-contrast, muted conditions, so such changes should be subtle, and never be afraid to come back to it later and re-evaluate it.

And the killdeer, as I promised:

killdeer Charadrius vociferus on shore of Jordan Lake in foggy predawn conditions, color-tweaked more towards neutral
This is pretty damn close to an accurate impression of their coloration – I think I replicated hazy/light overcast conditions reasonably well; really cool red eyes, if you get the chance to see them, which the species normally disallows. By the way, these are medium-small songbirds, about the size of some of the larger sandpipers, and larger than a sanderling, smaller than an American robin. cute birds when you can get a good look at them.

And that wraps up the outing photos, before the end of the month even – it’s going to be a lot of uploads this month, but that makes up for last month’s lack. And I still have a few more things targeted to appear, plus whatever I find when I’m sorting this now-backlog of images in the Sort folders. You know where to find them.

Grey, part two: The scenics

As we advance into our past weekend’s photos, there came the realization that they should be broken up even more, and so we’re going to have a ‘part three’ later on. Right now, we have what the environment was looking like, which is specific, because the day dawned (as predicted by meteorologists) in a dense fog.

Jordan Lake shoreline before sunrise in dense fog
When instructing students about ISO, my basic advice is, use the lowest value that still allows you to get the shot, but get the shot. Higher ISO values get progressively grainier and noise-laden, and the uppermost on any camera body is almost always next to worthless. However, it also depends on what you’re going to do with it. If you take the entire frame and reduce it down to web display size, like here, the reduction in detail may allow you to get away with something extreme like ISO 6400, like here. But it undoubtedly helps that there really isn’t much of anything to see from the image anyway, few subtleties in tone and little detail – we’re only getting general conditions and mood from it. Also, to keep it resembling what the conditions actually looked like while there, the exposure compensation was set for -2/3 stop, so the exposure metering wouldn’t drive it up too bright.

The blue hue was pretty much present, too, the thick humidity and the bare trait that it was before sunrise and the light all reflected from within the atmosphere greatly reducing the other colors. But for giggles, I tweaked the colors a little, trying for something more neutral, which wasn’t too hard. Others colors were there, just overwhelmed by the blue light.

Jordan Lake shoreline before dawn in thick fog
Yes, same tree/stump, opposite side. While the water level is certainly down from where it’s been before, it was also up from where it had been recently, as shown by the flooded grasses just barely appearing at the bottom of the frame.

While we waited on imminent sunrise and the fog to lift, we watched for useful compositions, which a great blue heron (Ardea herodis) provided in a couple of instances.

great blue heron Ardea herodias standing in shallows on Jordan Lake in gloom of predawn fog
Unlike many birds, herons have pretty decent night vision, I’m inclined to say better than ours, because I hear them getting spooked away from their night perches and flying croaking out over the water all the time. So this one might have spent the night in the immediate vicinity (we saw it some time before this image,) or it may have flown here at any point in time before we arrived. It provided a slightly better pose just a little later.

great blue heron Ardea herodias in classic pose on spit of land on Jordan Lake in predawn fog
It had flown here shortly after the first image, and looks less distinct, not because the fog was thickening, but because it was almost twice as far away now; you can look at the water in both pics, seen from my standing position, and judge from that. I think I might have tweaked the colors slightly on this one to make the trees stand out better.

While the fog did eventually break, most of the way anyway, it wasn’t until after sunrise and so the sun never really made an appearance until after we decided to leave the area. It did get bright enough to snag a few other images though, most of which will be in part three, but I played around with some moisture-laden web strands on unidentified berries.

web strands on unidentified berries as fog lightened on Jordan Lake, near sunrise
At this point I’d dropped the camera down to ISO 1600, but was still focusing manually because autofocus had too much of a tendency to try and grab the higher contrast from the background, and I wasn’t carrying any macro lens – this is just the 18-135 STM. I have another frame where the foremost berries were sharper but the dew soft, and I attempted to focus-stack the two together, but the shooting angle had changed just enough from my swaying that it wasn’t worth the effort. I’d chased a few other drop-laden orb webs too, of which there were plenty, but I never found one that I could frame decently and will probably discard all of them – I’ve done better.

One last frame, with a curiosity, before we go to part three, which will be all birds. The fog had ‘cleared’ only not completely, and I used another heron as a focal point for the scene, with more grasses that show that the water had been lower before this, for a significant time.

great blue heron Ardea herodias on Jordan Lake as fog lifted most of the way, showing depth more clearly along the shoreline
While unloading and looking at these in thumbnail form, I thought I had a corrupt file or even a shutter issue, from the vertical banding that shows throughout the frame, stepping along brighter to the right, but this was just the fog, thicker in the distance and so making the small points along the shoreline show up much more distinctly than normal, also reflected in the water. This is almost exactly the same thing that gives the Blue Ridge mountains their name, because the increasing thickness of the humidity between successively farther peaks just turns everything more blue. Normally no such effect is visible on the lake, the distances being too small, but it make the meandering shoreline much more evident.

Soon, the foggy birds – can’t wait. (Say that to someone at work, and nothing else. They’ll probably think you’re talking about some app…)

Grey part one

This past weekend I got back to my old stomping grounds, a metaphor that I don’t exactly know the origin of and hopefully it’s not another that’s sports related, but by this I mean the area that I lived in until not quite two years ago, a more central portion of central North Carolina. Sure, I’ve done this numerous times since we moved, but this time I had some time, the first time in a long time, and so met up with the Intrepid Mr Bugg again. We elected to try for two outings to Jordan Lake, attempting both sunset on Saturday and sunrise on Sunday; according to the weather reports, neither was looking all that promising, and as you might surmise from the title of the post, that promise, or lack thereof, was fulfilled. But we made the most out of the conditions at least.

I could say the conditions were poor, but let’s put it this way: for the earlier half of the day it had been pouring, and for the past several weeks it’s been hot as hell, so a cooler dry outing was not actually bad, though the persistent overcast certainly wasn’t ideal for photography. Still, Jordan Lake has more opportunities for things like ospreys (Pandion haliaetus) than where I am now – they’re here, but sparse and usually distant. Much more distant than this:

osprey Pandion haliaetus wheeling against overcast sky
Darker skies with a moving subject and, worse, a +2/3 exposure compensation to account for the sky taking up most of the viewfinder is a recipe for motion blur, so I’m thankful that this image is as sharp as it is, even when it could have been sharper. The option to try and improve that is to boost ISO, which we’ll see the effect of in another post.

osprey Pandion haliaetus against overcast sky without exposure compensationYou might think you wouldn’t need exposure compensation when the sky is right around that 18% grey middle tone that meters are calibrated for, but the key factor is, the sky is significantly brighter than the subjects against it, especially without direct light on them to brighten them up a bit, so without compensation, the frames were looking like this. And yes, the sky looks exactly the same hue as above – the overcast is never perfectly uniform, so the frame at left was actually brighter than the frame above, since the frame above has been lightened by 2/3 of a stop; the difference is plainly visible in the osprey. This is exactly why exposure compensation is usually linked by default to the dial that sits under your thumb, so this can be adjusted on the fly as you might switch from aiming into the sky to aiming against dark foliage – you just have to remember to keep adjusting this compensation, better than I did for this frame.

The ospreys were hunting only half-heartedly, getting late enough in the day for their activity to drop off noticeably, but a couple did at least provide some poses.

osprey Pandion haliaetus in nice pose against overcast sky
This one conveniently passed pretty close, to the protests of another nearby, perched in a treetop but out of sight to us. No eagles were forthcoming that evening – in fact, we might have spotted a cormorant or duck, too far away to identify even that far, but that was it for other species to be found, save for the ubiquitous herons of course.

great blue heron Ardea herodias cruising low over water on overcast evening
Just timed things a bit to frame this great blue herons (Ardea herodias) between the bands. It might look like a hint of sunset color on the leading edges there, but it’s only the natural coloration. The sun hadn’t peeked out at all, and it wasn’t until we switched to another arm of the lake that the clouds even broke a tiny bit. I took advantage of this little patch to frame another passing osprey that was at the correct altitude.

osprey Pandion halaietus passing tiny break in overcast near sunset
We could see the clouds shifting a little, but they obstinately refused to part very much until the sun was quite low, so only the faintest hint of color came through.

weak insipid sunset colors over Jordan Lake
We were patient and waited it out, hoping to see the clouds light up underneath as the sun broke through right near the horizon, but it was not to be. Instead, all we got was a hair more color as the more scattered clouds to the west got the benefit, visible to us only through the break in overcast near the horizon.

bare hints of sunset colors on horizon alongside Jordan Lake
And that was it for the day. We wrapped it up and hoped for better conditions at sunrise, or at least a little more activity. Part two will answer this question, of course – to the extent that the title hasn’t.

No, not already

distinct veins in fallen brown leaf, likely American sycamore Platanus occidentalisDipshit (I’m talking to myself – that’s what the italics mean. In this case, anyway.) This is not the last day of July, so you got the abstracts early, probably before they were ripe, and I apologize. I have no excuse, and should know by now to double-check my senile old brain, since this isn’t the first time it’s happened – it’s not even the first time this year.

Thus to somehow make it up to you in a way that even I can’t make any sense of (which is hardly surprising, considering,) I leave you with a semi-abstract that’s been sitting in the blog folder for literally 12 years – okay, not literally, because it was done in November of 2014, so we’re a few months shy. Wait, let me run through the month order chant again…

elemenopeeee… this is not helping…

Not already?

Wow, it’s the end of July already – I’d be really annoyed if I was still back in school. Well, that goes without saying, since I should have been on summer break all through July, but what I meant was, I’d be really annoyed that summer break was already half over. As you may derive from that, I was never terribly fond of school, information that may either surprise you or make you nod knowingly – “Yeah, the lack of writing skills kinda makes that obvious, Al,” you say, blissfully ignorant that “kinda” is not a word.

But quit trying to distract me from the topic at hand, which is, the end-of-the-month abstract. This time I come prepared, with two proper abstracts, certified even, though again, that schooling thing may make you ponder my grasp of the definition. No matter! We plunge onward, and present this:

lone rocks protruding from foggy lake surface
Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out what we’re looking at here, but there’s a detail that I like. The difference between the lake surface and the foggy sky is barely delineated by a faint color change, the effect, I think, of the water polarizing the light reflecting from it. Or maybe not. Don’t care – I still like it, though not having that vague distinction would make it more abstract. Or is it austere? Astringent?

And another.

wild color variations in heartwood of old fallen tree trunk
Aha, not prepared for something this abstentious, were you? It kind of looks like a place where someone was attempting to color-match some beige paint and got pissed off. Maybe the feathers on a juvenile pootoo. Perhaps the stains on the inside of a latte machine (are there latte machines? I don’t know – I don’t drink the stuff.) In any event, I think it fits the month-end obligation.

The question now remains, how many more of the pics actually shot this month can I get up before the day ends? The heat is on…

Rare conditions

distant lightning strike over Pamlico River with light from moon and waterfront lights
First off, I haven’t really determined where all my time is going, but I have at least three posts, maybe more, of photos to get to and they keep shifting farther back. The Illustrious Mr Bugg, at least, is going to wonder what the hell’s wrong with me. They’re coming, they’re coming… but not until after this.

inset crop of previous image showing faintly visible lightning bolt over Pamlico RiverLast night we got a fierce set of thunderstorms, the kind that come with tornado warnings, which blipped our power here twice, preventing me from accomplishing too much on the computer. Soon after they’d passed, we could still see plenty of flashes lighting up the eastern sky, and I realized that the moon was also coming out while these were going on. That’s an opportunity I can’t let pass, so I drove down to the waterfront to see what was happening. That sunset pic up top there isn’t, since this was near 1 AM – you’re seeing a distant lightning strike instead, with supplementary light from the moon and the waterfront lights during an 11-second exposure. That’s a closeup of the strike to the right, many kilometers distant and almost obscured by the rain. It’s an ‘okay’ shot, but I would have been disappointed if this was all I had to show for the excursion. Luckily, it isn’t.

The serious activity that I’d been seeing from the house had petered out by the time I got to the waterfront, that cell having moved on very quickly, yet the second frame that I took snagged a nicely visible bolt, so that was encouragement at least.

distant lightning bolt over Pamlico River at night
The waterfront lights are visible to the left there, which I largely had to try and keep out of the frames because of the glare, but you can understand how they played such a large role in the images to follow. Now, despite all of the thundercells that were almost literally surrounding me, the air was cool with a gentle breeze, no rain at all, an incredibly comfortable night after the heatwave that has blasted this area for weeks so, you know, no hardships being out there. At least for a while.

hint of lightning under distant clouds while moon peeks out from behind fast-moving clouds during time exposure at night
The moon was just before full, and the clouds routinely obscuring and revealing it countless times. I was happy to try and include it in the compositions, trying for a combined moon and lightning shot, but here’s the thing: A good moon exposure, showing details, is fractions of a second under ideal conditions, perhaps stretching out to a couple of seconds with scattered clouds acting as a filter. Meanwhile, capturing lightning requires either exceptional luck in tripping the shutter at exactly the right time, or (the typical method,) leaving the shutter open for several seconds at a time while waiting for a bolt to appear in the frame. The length of the exposure will be dictated by what other light is available, and with the moon and the waterfront, this was fairly significant. Most of my exposures were running in the 5-20 second range; this was a mere eight seconds, and not only is the moon blown out, the clouds were moving enough in that brief window to blur noticeably – except for those purple ones illuminated by the brief lightning strike instead.

time exposure over Pamlico River with illumination from waterfront lights, moon, and lighting within clouds
Here we have the waterfront lights illuminating the boats, the trees, and the undersides of the clouds to some extent, while the moon adds a lot of shaping from the upper left, and hidden lighting providing the accents in purple hues – a strike, but deep within the clouds and rain (that haze down near the horizon is rain obscuring the bolt that might have been visible down there otherwise.)

I’ve said before, lightning strikes follow a surprisingly regular ‘schedule’: you can actually count off the seconds between strikes and use this as a rough guideline of when the next will occur. It’s not precise, and exposures should be started well in advance, nor is it a guarantee that the strike will be visible or impressive – actually, in my experience, strikes seem to alternate weak and strong. The other problem with this technique is, it seems to apply for a single thunderhead, so if you have two or more in the immediate vicinity, your timing can be confused between them. Plus of course, it lasts for a couple of minutes at best before the cell shifts and/or dies out.

To give an example, I made an animated gif (pronounced, “JIM-oh-thee“) of nineteen successive frames, including the one above, all about eight seconds in exposure time, showing the activity in this particular head and how the clouds were moving.

animated gif of nineteen successive frames of active thundercell at night on Pamlico River
All told, that was a mere two-and-a-half minutes of activity – the clouds were moving that much, but also interesting is how one of the boats is drifting at anchor under the breeze. But yes, this is an exceptionally active cell to have lightning bursts in every frame, especially for exposures that brief.

What? You think I was going to let that one visible bolt just slide on by like that? For shame…

two-second exposure at night of lightning strike over Pamlico River with accent by moonlight
Actually, this exposure was only two seconds, since almost as soon as I opened the shutter the strike occurred, and I closed the shutter again to help reduce the cloud blurring. This meant it was noticeably darker when lined up in the gif, so I brightened it within the sequence, but left it as-is here.

By the way, nothing you see here is “on” the river – all strikes were kilometers distant, the vast majority not even producing thunder, and those few exceptions revealed from the time delay that they weren’t within five kilometers of me. And while, again, there were countless cells producing lightning, most of my decent captures aligned straight out like this. And I got plenty last night/this morning.

semi-obscured lightning strike over Pamlico River
Distant and partially obscured by rain, but I like the color palette and the clouds. You know me: we’re building here.

visible lightning strike at night over Pamlico River
Yep, that same cloud – this was a little before of course, but a nice little branch. Notice the threads barely visible much higher in the clouds.

lightning strike over sailboats at night, Pamlico River
There we go – that’s the expressive print. Having the bolt appear in the right place in the frame is, of course, almost entirely random – you can occasionally shift position to try and compose an image, but that’s assuming (rashly) that the lightning will continue to be active in the same reasonably precise location. So a composition like this is mere luck – well, coupled with the patience and willingness to be out there firing off frames (my count for the night was over 300.)

highly visible bolt passing behind sailboat mast on Pamlico River at night
And this is where it doesn’t quite work; the bolt and mast overlapping almost confuses things – a shame, because the light was great with a good reflection in the water. If it had just moved over to the left a tad, like just between the masts of the two boats.

But then we have my favorite from the night, I think:

double lightning bolt behind two sailboat masts ob Pamlico River at night
While looking forked at first glance, I’m almost certain this is a double-discharge, no connection between them, though they were certainly simultaneous. And lined up outside the two masts like that, just pointing to the sailboats – excellent! A little cloud detail way back there, someone cowering on the deck of the closest sailboat… no, okay, maybe that’s my imagination. Like I said, it was a gorgeous night to be out, and I feel sorry if any of the occupants of these boats slept through this.

I did another animated gif (pronounced, “GEE-dee-maw-pa-SONT“) showing the progression of the clouds and the moonbeams:

animated gif of nine frames showing cloud movement and moonbeam tracking across Pamlico River
Nine frames, this time just the barest hint of activity back in there – a significant amount of the frames I took captured nothing, which is the way it goes. If you get one good frame, it’s worth it, and this storm produced several, so I’m caught up for a bit.

This took place in just under a minute, each a five-second exposure, and the moonbeams really were visible to the naked eye. I was just about to try and frame for the moon on the water, but I was still watching for visible lightning – I can do the moon on the water anytime (including as I’m writing this.) I did manage the moon and lightning composition that I was out there for – kinda.

visible but blown out moon with lightning strike over Pamlico River
As you can see, the moon got bleached out and semi-obscured by the clouds, also bleached out, so not what I was trying for. It would have been better if the moon was lower too, so there wasn’t quite as much separation between them, but you take what comes along. Painters can do what they like – us photographers have to work with the hand we’re dealt.

One last one, among the last for the night.

distant semi-obscured lightning alongside small island and sailboat, Pamlico River
This is roughly 90° to the left of the others, downriver to the east instead of across it to the south. As I said, there were numerous cells in multiple directions, and I didn’t realize until I got back and unloaded that the vast majority of visible bolts that I captured were all in the same direction – it wasn’t through a lack of redirecting the camera, and at one point, I was literally alternating exposures between two different directions, rotating it on the pan axis of the tripod, but this failed to capture the activity I’d been seeing. And yes, there were more than a few brilliant strikes that I missed, which is the way it goes – annoying, especially when your hand is on the remote release about to trip the shutter, but what can you do? Barely any lingering, flickering bolts either – these were nearly all millisecond strikes.

Soon after this, knowing the cells in view were dying out, I was trying for one last visible bolt when I heard the hiss upriver, growing stronger. I’ve heard that before, and knew what it was: a downpour rapidly heading my way. I quickly shut down and stowed the camera in the bag (treated with waterproofing spray for exactly these conditions,) and was breaking down the tripod on the way back to the car when it hit. I got absolutely soaked in the thirty seconds remaining before I got within, but it wasn’t the first time, and I consider that the tradeoff. It was a good night overall.

Overwhelmed? Thank Hütenverschnippi

We almost forgot that today is the birthday of Wamleigh Hütenverschnippi, a name we should all know much better than we do, since this is the person responsible for cameras looking they way that they do today.

Hütenverschnippi was an early photographer, back when great big bellowy cameras and glass plate negatives were in use, and while he was pretty accomplished at this, he had a hard time being taken seriously because of his last name, a prejudice that we cannot understand or relate to in the slightest (*cough cough*). People would watch him at work, desperate to justify their ill-disguised contempt of him because they couldn’t actually pronounce his name, and say derisive things such as, “So all you do is just press that little lever, huh?” Back then, of course, cameras had an aperture setting and a method for moving the front standard, and the shutter release – that was about it, while the functions of changing plates safely, calculating exposure, and achieving sharp focus were important but hardly impressive-looking.

Annoyed that his technical know-how was dismissed so cavalierly, Hütenverschnippi tore apart a couple of old pocket watches and attached various bits to his camera, with which he would twiddle with his free hand while adjusting the focus, even suddenly telling his subjects to freeze while he leaned forward and did some other nonsense with one of these additions. In this manner, he convinced onlookers that photography required some esoteric and horribly complicated knowledge. Later on, he added the occasional muttered instruction to himself, such as, “Better add a quarter-bunt to that,” or, “About five to eight benfers should do it,” all while fingering his bits.

When some sharp-eyed observers appeared to notice that these watch parts didn’t seem to actually move, Hütenverschnippi got more creative and attached real levers and toggles and dials to his camera, still doing absolutely nothing but now appearing much more functional. He also would ‘make the rounds’ of these in an extremely rapid manner, flipping and probing as many as he could within a second or two, giving the appearance that he had ultimate mastery of this ridiculously complicated device.

People became absolutely enamored of this, and while failing to understand just what was being done with them (despite Hütenverschnippi’s quickly-relayed instructions along the lines of, “This ensures the parlesters synchronize to the vemmelays in accordance with Zepster’s Law,”) they adored the delightfully technical and fidgetty aspect of his camera, and often offered appreciable sums of money to purchase it. This opportunity was not lost on Hütenverschnippi, who soon began to market his own brand of camera which he wisely decided to brand as one of his nonsense words instead of his name. Thus was born, “Agfa.”

Hütenverschnippi’s cameras naturally became immensely popular, with numerous photographers confidently making adjustments to the needless complications all over the bodies and convincing themselves that these were the best photos they’d ever taken, all the time denying to themselves that they hadn’t the faintest idea what the fuck they were doing. Hütenverschnippi also supplied manuals with his cameras, the first to do so, which were responsible for the adoption of numerous different photographic terms into the lexicon, among them, “f-stop,” “bokeh,” “chromatic aberration,” “ASA,” “reciprocity,” “barrel distortion,” “Rule of Thirds,” and, “Leica,” none of which had the slightest actual meaning. He also realized that weight equaled value, and added slabs of lead to his cameras to make them even more popular.

Unfortunately, other camera manufacturers began following suit, and ensured that their levers and dials would cause some change to be visible in the camera or viewfinder, regardless of actual effect. Hütenverschnippi attempted to file a lawsuit over these infringements, discovering to his chagrin that bullshit was not actually copyrightable, paving the way for future companies like Apple and Tesla.

To this day, Hütenverschnippi’s ploy remains extremely active in marketing, and countless camera bodies offer options and functions such as, “second curtain sync,” “AI Servo Autofocus,” “noise reduction,” “auto-bracketing,” and, “high dynamic range,” none of which do anything or are actually tried out by any photographers, ever. They blithely discuss the merits of Evaluative Metering and iTTL flashes, the photographers’ equivalent to speaking in tongues, while their ranks remain free of those who look at the arrays of buttons and doodads with horror – in other words, honest people.

And so, every time you come across a camera that has more controls than a nuclear submarine, or a photographer that speaks ‘knowledgeably’ about white balance or recommends trying your hand at chiaroscuro, you can thank Hütenverschnippi, or Wamleigh if you like, or just, “that Agfa guy.” His legacy, if not his name, will carry on for eternity.

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