Waiting until everyone’s attention was on the couple fighting over by the guacamole, September slips quietly out the door, but not before leaving a couple of abstracts on the gift table. Hey, why is it that on birthdays you open all the gifts in front of everyone, but for weddings you do it in the privacy of your own home? It’s completely ruined the fun of gag gifts…
Anyway, it’s time for the month-end abstract, or multiples in this case, because I came prepared. First off, we have one of the frames from when I actually got the telescope working, of the Sprei Nebula in the constellation Taurus:
Really, not too shabby after all the rotten luck I’ve had with the ‘scope.
Okay, I lied, which was hinted at by the Taurus bit: this is merely the top of a breaking wave, cropped in tight and with boosted contrast. But I had you going for a moment, right?
Since that was shot on the 27th, let’s go to the other end of the month, because I had already bagged one on the 2nd too.
Back when I did a few shots of the clouds being dramatic, I went in tighter for the sun breaking around the edge of them, down within the treeline, and liked the contrast and mood, a sense of foreboding. No no no, this was actually my pretentious art instincts, demonstrating chiaroscuro, yeah, that’s it…
And finally, one that wasn’t really intended to look this way, but I’m using it anyway – like that’s something new.
I chased a few different astronomical events this month, and I don’t think I nailed any of them. This was during an attempt at a less-than-1% crescent moon, something I’ve had on my bucket list for a while; the conditions have to be right, and even then, it’s still a bit iffy. But while I was on the river before sunrise watching for this tiny crescent, I turned and shot some ducks flying past a little patch of clouds, high enough to catch the sunlight while it was still hidden below the horizon for me. Too little light for a decent shutter speed, so this is what happened, but that’s impressionism, right? Let’s see, that’s three different artistic techniques this time: impressionism, chiaroscuro, and bullshit. I’m ready for the big time.
While macro photography can be fun and fascinating, it does require at least a little specialized equipment. Dedicated macro lenses tend to be quite expensive, and while they remain the best way to tackle the genre, there are other options. But first, let’s see why they’re usually the best option.
Full range of focus. Macro lenses can usually focus from 15cm, give or take, to infinity – the range varies a lot, because some are optimized for very close work, others for working distance from shy subjects. But all of them can be focused to infinity and thus used for other subjects as well.
Sharpness. As a rule that has few exceptions, macro lenses are usually the sharpest out of any manufacturer’s lineup, partially because the end results are often cropped and enlarged significantly because the photographer is after the detail. On top of that, the lenses are almost always optimized for a flat field, for copy work – this means they will produce the same focus and sharpness across the frame, for subjects that remain parallel to the sensor/image plane, as in, copying a photograph or printed page. This makes little difference for most other macro subjects like insects or flowers, etc., because their distance to the lens/sensor plane isn’t constant.
Bokeh. Since macro involves high magnification, depth-of-field drops off significantly, meaning the background is very often out of focus, but we still want this to be smooth and undistracting. Most macro lenses have a larger number of aperture blades to help smooth out these defocused portions – some much better than others.
Focus limiters. Many/most macro lenses have a switch to limit the range of autofocus, since we really don’t want the focus racking all the way out to infinity and back when it fails to lock onto the bug in front of us. This can be handy, but less use than initially supposed, since often enough, we may switch to manual focus anyway.
1:1 magnification (or better.) This is often considered the real definition of a macro lens, meaning that the image it produces on the sensor plane is the same size as the subject itself. While there are exceedingly few circumstances when this is necessary, it’s a guideline towards knowing what the lens is capable of.
Don’t be fooled by the countless variations of lenses that are billed as “zoom macros” and so on – “macro” is a popular term and manufacturers prey on buyers that are triggered by it. Basic guideline: if it actually has a variable focal length, a ‘zoom’ lens, it probably doesn’t allow very close focus or high magnification, and it certainly isn’t optimized with most of the factors above. Generally, if you look closely at the lens specifications you’ll find what its actual magnification is, and if it’s listed as anything less than “1:2” (such as 1:3, 1:4,) forget about it. Do not confuse this with the aperture specs, often listed on the front ring of the lens as “1:3.5” or “1:5.6” – this has nothing to do with magnification and only refers to maximum apertures of f3.5 or f5.6. Most macro lenses are f2.8 to f4 maximum – the lower the number, the better (more light to focus by) but it often isn’t a very crucial factor, because to increase depth-of-field and how much of a small subject will still be sharp, we’ll be shooting frequently at smaller apertures anyway, f11 to f22 or further.
So when we go to these other options for macro work, we’ll often do without at least one of the above factors, possibly most of them – it’s up to you to decided what you can live with and what you can’t
Close-up diopters (“filters”). “Filters” is an incorrect term, but a lot of people still use it because these screw onto the end of an existing lens like filters do. However, they don’t filter out light, because they’re actually lenses themselves, and come in different strengths. As macro options go, these are always the cheapest and easiest to implement, just adding them to one of our existing lenses, but the results are often sub-optimal. Most especially, the sharpness is highest right in the center of the image and drops off significantly, even resulting in distortion at the edges – not at all an option for copy work. They’re okay in a pinch, and certainly inexpensive, but they’ll typically be forgotten and unused as soon as any other options are available. They also have to be specific to the lens threads, so harder to implement for multiple lenses
A set of diopters (foreground) which I had to dig out for this pic, and extension tubes Extension tubes. Such a simple idea – all these do is go between the camera and lens to move an existing lens further from the camera/sensor plane so the image it throws is larger, just like moving a projector further from the screen. Their sharpness depends entirely on the lens used, which is hard to predict – some lenses do great with extension tubes, others are too optimized for their distance. Extension tubes often come in sets of three different lengths and can even be used in combination, and are fairly inexpensive – more so if you go with ones not from the original equipment manufacturers, which is fine because they’re empty tubes that only have to pass the info back and forth through the lens contacts. There are two distinct downsides: the first is that there is notable light loss from moving lenses further away, more so with greater distance (more extension,) and this can defeat autofocus as well as making subjects harder to manually focus upon. The second is that lenses are optimized for that distance to the film plane, and increasing this can introduce more distortion and chromatic aberration (color fringing.) It also eliminates infinity focusing – the more extension, the less you can focus on distant objects. However, they’re a useful thing to carry in the bag and can work great in a pinch, or if the dedicated macro lens isn’t handy.
Macro bellows. Largely the same as above, but a continually variable level of extension that can far exceed most tube sets. The loss of light becomes even greater, as does distortion and aberration, so this typically works well only with a few lenses, and experimentation is in order. This is also a heavier and bulkier rig and works best with tripod work, which limits the field uses – not impossible, but flexibility is not the keyword here. Focus is usually achieved with the adjustment of the bellows extension, and aperture is adjusted manually – this is why older manual-focus lenses work best, and most often, the sharpest 50mm that a manufacturer offers, but some others work well – I’ve had quite good results with an M42-mount Vivitar 135mm f2.8 (pictured.) Macro bellows were used for years and can be obtained fairly cheaply sometimes, as long as you don’t mind obtaining (or making) adapting rings for your camera and lenses – I’ve glued together body and rear lens caps, with appropriately cut out holes for light passage, to adapt bellows for different lenses, as well as purchasing dedicated adapters.
Lens Reversing. Taking a wide angle lens and using it backwards in place of any other lens can actually produce some pretty significant magnification, and the results depend on the lens itself, without any decent way of predicting. This only works with wide angle lenses (typically no more than 35mm focal length, but 28mm is better) because they’re made to capture a broader field of view, and this is necessary to cover the film plane when used backwards. There’s no light loss, but, all automatic control is lost since there isn’t any contact for focus or aperture control, barring devices intended for this specific purpose (only useful for manufacturers that have all-electronic lens controls.) So, manual focus, and no aperture control unless you close it down manually – this is why using certain older manual focus lenses can work better, because their apertures can often be stopped down with a little lever on the base, and sometimes with a dedicated switch. It can be awkward, but at the same time, produce some pretty high magnifications.
I have been using a reversed Sigma 28-105 for years now, where the zoom also allows some adjustments to magnification and working distance. The aperture had failed, so I’d removed the motor for this from the lens and manually set it for roughly f16 permanently – while this helps with depth-of-field, it also means that the image in the viewfinder is perpetually dark, requiring very bright light (usually supplemental, like a flashlight) on the subject to even pin down sharp focus. It’s a little awkward, but it still serves pretty damn well.
Lens stacking. An esoteric one here, this involves using a sharp 50mm (usually) lens reversed onto the end of a medium to longer telephoto, generally 150-300mm, which produces a significant magnification. It requires a lens stacking ring with the right threads for each lens, usually not too expensive. Aperture control at least remains because of the use of the telephoto, but edge distortion is exceedingly common, and vignetting can occur easily, darkening the corners in a circular pattern. Best for use of very specific areas, right in the center of the frame, because that’s often the only area that is dependably sharp, but a quick and dirty way to achieve high magnification.
Actual microscopes. This is its own field, photomicrography, and can be exceptionally tricky. First, you need a real microscope, and these are usually not found cheap (I lucked out significantly at a thrift shop once, but I had to rig my own lighting system.) After that, it simply requires an inexpensive adapter to fit the camera to the eyepiece, but the camera will achieve significantly less magnification than the microscope eyepiece does. Aperture control is nonexistent, but depth-of-field is too because this is the nature of microscopes – expect only the focus point to be sharp. This is where taking numerous frames, all focused at different distances, and using image-stacking software comes in, combining the sharp portions of each frame to fake a higher depth of field. Naturally, your subject matter is either completely stationary or limited to a very small area (like microscopic subjects in a slide well or under a cover slip.)
Microscope objectives with camera adapters. The only one of these I haven’t actually tried (yet,) this involves using the lower lens of a microscope, the one just above the slide, with an extended adapter for the camera. Focus is strictly by working distance, light falloff is significant, aperture control (and thus depth-of-field) is nonexistent. Yet it’s also one of the cheapest ways to produce very high magnifications – as long as you can make or find an adapter.
Combined options. Most often, this is using a reversed lens with an extension method, but I’ve also used extension tubes with dedicated macro lenses just to boost magnification that much more. There’s also the option of using an enlarger lens with some extension to allow for full coverage at the sensor plane. You’re courting various issues by doing this, notably distortion and aberration, and also know that any of these not perfectly aligned will fudge up the results.
So, there are plenty of options to get those close pics, for just about any budget. Results will vary, sometimes in surprising ways, and a lot of it depends on what you’re trying to do and what subjects you want to tackle. But it can be fun just trying, and you can easily find new methods to add to your repertoire. Have at it!
Trying to get back into things now, after a beach trip this weekend – not the best time for it, but the opportunities weren’t coming up earlier. After a ridiculously hot summer, autumn weather came in abruptly, and Saturday was perpetual overcast and a little chilly, so scenic options were extremely limited and it wasn’t a good time to get in the water. Sunday was better, but we were already fairly worn out from Saturday (lots of hiking, and surprisingly vertically too,) so we were taking it easier. More pictures will be along, but I still have a Tip Jar post to do. Right now we have… well, it’s a juvenile gull, a larger one, but several species all look like this at this time of year and my familiarity with gulls is minimal, meaning it’s going to remain unidentified right now – I liked the plumage and it was hanging out quite close by, so I took pictures. I waited until it turned its head enough for the catchlight in the eye, and the sun was out enough on Sunday to have a catchlight.
I have something coming up that may need the camcorder, and wanted to charge the batteries, but on getting out the charger, I could hear something rattling around inside, never a good sign. Nonetheless, I tried plugging it in and nada – no response. I don’t have a backup charger for those batteries (I know, right? Stupid,) so if I wanted those batteries charged inside of the week it would take for a new one to get here, I had to fix it instead. I’m game.
Opening up the case, the culprit became clear immediately, and it wasn’t a loose piece of plastic case either:
That little metal tab at the bottom fell out right away, and clearly it was a contact. You can see its counterpart right above it, one of the two that met with the outlet prongs. They’re a perfect match.
It took no time at all to realize what had happened: the solder joint that held that particular contact had come loose, or more likely, never been very good in the first place. The contact slid back into place easily, but really, never should have come loose. Probably not using any flux to ensure a good bond.
That, however, is an easy fix, as long as you have a few items handy, like a soldering iron, flux, and solder. I’ve been an electronics tinkerer for years, so this was in the case right behind me. It was a simple matter of adding a tiny bit of flux to the contact, slipping it in place, and tacking on a very small amount of hot solder, counting on what was already on there to help. In seconds, it was attached tightly.
It took two tries to get it back together, since those tabs kept wanting to go on the wrong side of the AC prong contacts, but on the second try the charger popped up the light that I needed to see.
And boom! (well, no boom at all.) Fixed and operational, with only 20 or so minutes of playing around. Believe me, learning just a little about disassembly and electronics and so on can save you a ton of time and money, plus get you out of a jam. Didn’t even need a multi-tester for this.
I was about to title this post, “Just playing,” because it was a quick effort to get a few clear closeups of a jagged ambush bug (Genus Phymata,) but considering the number of frames that I shot trying to get these, it hardly counts as foolin’ around. It was also intended as a lead-in to a further bit of news, but that hasn’t been done yet, so here we are.
Earlier, I showed some quick pics of an ambush bug on the butterfly bush, and decided while dead-heading it yesterday to try for better – the first step was locating one, which wasn’t hard, and I let it be on its own dead flower cluster until I tackled this last night, clipping the entire cluster and bringing it in with me for ‘controlled studio work,’ which essentially means tripod for the camera and a clamp for the cluster. Eventually, I got something looking like this:
The insect’s head is toward us and slightly downward, underside to the right. The one thing I regret is not getting those forelegs in view, since they have lovely little clamps for their prey, but achieving tight focus and good lighting was enough of a chore, especially since this little guy was getting somewhat anxious over all the shifting that was taking place. However, we can go in closer than this.
While they obscured the multiple false pupils that ambush bugs display, I’m still glad to get the facets of the compound eyes this clearly. I’m not even going to try and guesstimate just how small these really are, but I’ll let you try if you like, since I also did a scale shot:
While this was done with the Canon 18-135, the previous image (there’s only one, but two versions of it) was accomplished with the reversed Sigma 28-105. Don’t get confused with the dried flowers – the bug has a nice rounded yellow-and-brown hind end. You can see that the little bugger doesn’t top 10mm in overall length, that head running roughly a millimeter. So the eye cluster is, what, 0.8mm across maximum? Then you can go from there. Have at it.
My subject was returned to the butterfly bush once I was done, onto a fresh and blooming cluster even – the best I could do towards obtaining it some food. I treat my models well. Usually.
Once again courtesy of Astronomy Picture of the Day, a few days back, we have a wicked conjunction:
Fantastic image by Petr Horalek, Inst. Physics Opava, courtesy of Astronomy Picture of the Dayfirst off, pretty decent image of sunspots, clearly taken with a solar filter. Getting the timing and focus down to capture the International Space Station so sharply against the sun’s face is a serious accomplishment in itself – I’ve been trying for this myself, several times over. But then Petr Horalek, of the Institute of Physics in Opava (Czech Republic) captured an aircraft at the same time, which virtually cannot be planned and probably wasn’t even timed – it was strictly luck. Definitely click on the links for the complete rundown and the larger version (click on the image at the APOD site, or here.) Why is the plane not as sharp as the rest? Because it was significantly closer than either the sun (~152 million kilometers distant) or the ISS (better than 400 kilometers distant,) likely being less than 10 kilometers distant itself – I can’t get any closer than that, because I don’t know exactly where or when it was taken. It’s still in focus enough to make out the pitot tube extending from the wing’s leading edge though, and no visible motion blur – the defocus characteristics seem the same on all sides, suggesting that the shutter speed was fast enough to limit the motion blur to trivial amounts (with none from the ISS either.) Petr Horalek estimates the chance of capturing these three objects together is about 30 million to one.
Can that be right? Let’s break it down. The sun is a relatively small target in the sky, being less that the width of a dime held at arm’s length (roughly 0.5 degrees,) so the chances of anything passing in front of it are small to begin with – the sky is 180° across of course. I semi-routinely use the ISS Transit Finder site to plot when the ISS and other manmade satellites may pass in front of the sun, and the path where this can be seen is usually around 8 km wide. The ISS itself is moving at a pretty good clip, so usually passes across the entire face of the sun in less than a second. A plane will cross it twice as fast or more, and while it’s larger from this viewing perspective, it’s also a lot closer and so the path where it will cross the face is much narrower. So while I wouldn’t bet heavily on the exact numbers, I can see where capturing them both is a matter of very specific timing and location. He’s also extremely lucky that the plane didn’t obscure the ISS, which would be just my luck.
Idly, I’ve been looking at that plane and trying to pin down what it is. Straight, unswept wings and no visible engine pods, plus exhaust distortion occurring right inline with the fuselage, seems to indicate a single-turbine internal engine, though it’s possible it was a single turboprop and the propeller is outside of the sun’s disk. There’s little else I can tell about it, and it’s not ringing any bells, but if I suspect I have it, I’ll let you know.
Too many of the holidays that are featured here are rather narrow in scope, or appeal, or culture; photography-related, or specific to the US (like we need any more reasons to be self-absorbed,) or even, dare I say it, almost resembling contrived excuses to put up handy content. Today, however, is a holiday that we all can celebrate, and indeed, have probably celebrated countless times in the past, and that’s Fret About What We Should Be Reading And Then Still Not Actually Read A Damn Thing Day, the day that we look at our bookshelves or reading lists or even wish lists for bookstores and think, Yeah, I’ve been meaning to get to that, and then take solace in the thought itself and believe that we’ve made some kind of progress. Personally, I think I celebrated it three times or more today.
Normally, there’s a modicum of guilt associated with this (in)action, which we try to bury under the concepts that we have more important things to do right now, or there won’t be enough uninterrupted time to get much reading in, or we don’t have the right spot to sit down and get comfy. However, that’s what’s so great about this holiday: we’re supposed to make excuses and go watch Bob’s Burgers instead (pay attention to how often Gene has the closing gag to a scene) – there’s no guilt to be had, if we’re patriotic, well, anythings. We’d be spitting on the memory of whoever came up with this holiday if we had any regrets whatsoever. Let’s show some respect now.
Now, I can already hear you arguing, “But Al, the guilt is actually a good thing since we really should be getting to this reading,” and quite frankly, that’s just making an excuse to dodge the meaning and tradition of the holiday – shame on you. There are books and articles and papers just waiting for our attention, and that promise of things to come is what we should be savoring. The moment we actually read them, well, that’s over, isn’t it? I mean, now what?
So, fidget with all the shit on your desk, or fake the throw for the dog, or go through the cupboards to see what snacks would be appropriate for reading and then consume them without actually doing the reading. It’s your solemn duty. I’d even chide you for reading this, except this isn’t on anyone’s list of things they should be reading, so it’s all good. In fact, go check out the Random Post thing over there on the sidebar – you can thank me later…
I had a few wood duck photos to feature, a teaser until I get the video clips together, and I was thinking it’d be a nice change because we hadn’t had wood ducks for a while. So, exhausting researcher that I am, I looked for the last appearance of “wood duck” on the blog.
Which was yesterday, since they appeared in the video. But okay, the last appearance before that was late June, so we’re going with that and pretending that the species in the video was something else. Okay?
Not too long after the ducklings had become too big to effectively fit what people imagine when they hear the word, “duckling,” the wood ducks (Aix sponsa) had almost disappeared from the pond, helped perhaps by the drastic drop in the water level, limiting their swimming access to specific reduced portions of it. But since this happened last year too, we think it’s just a habitual thing. The water level has bounced back to what we’re used to now, and they’ve (perhaps coincidentally) been coming back again, though there’s a curious detail about it.
The morning and evening raids after the corn we distribute were no longer regular, sometimes occurring, sometimes not, most often in the mornings. But for a short while, they were gathering instead at the base of Haunted Tree, which you can see is half-obscured by foliage from my normal vantage point. Every one of them, however, was in juvenile plumage, meaning this year’s ducklings – not a full adult to be seen among them. We found this curious, and don’t know the reason or meaning behind it, but the result is that their coloring has a lot more variation in it.
The female in front looks almost like an adult, but the male in the back is definitely between patterns, showing more of the iridescent blue in the wings than the adults normally do with almost none of the blacks. The beak is pretty much on-cue though, and the eyes are red, or reddish at least.
A nice comparison was captured yesterday morning, though.
Both males, both this year’s brood, but you could be excused if you thought they were different sexes or species. The one in front shows more of the iridescent green on the head, but lacks the body coverts that would hide the blue wing feathers, while the one in back looks less scruffy and more ‘complete,’ yet shows nearly none of the adult coloration. Which as a reminder, looks like this:
Considering that, even early this year before nesting season, we were seeing the occasional duck sporting incomplete adult colors, I suspect that adult plumage doesn’t fully come in until the mating season change erupts in late winter/early spring. It’s still curious that no adults seem to be hanging out with the current crew, though.
Another, in the tree on Duck Island:
The white ‘chin strap’ seems to be the first thing to develop after the duckling colors, making the sexes distinguishable fairly early, since even the females’ white eye rings seem to develop later than this. Notice that the male bill colors are only halfway there, and the eye might be developing a hint of red, but even under high magnification, it’s not distinctly noticeable, though we are looking from the shady side here.
Like I said, video to come (eventually,) but sometime after that, you might notice a change in the scenery; we had one cluster of trees on the pond edge come down this morning, falling just behind both Haunted Tree and Duck Island, so there’s a bunch of loose background foliage that will be dying out. There’s little point in trying to remove them, seeing how they’re completely in the water, as shallow as it is, but we’re also curious to see if the beavers take advantage of this windfall (well, technically a rainfall, since we believe they toppled because of the rain weight and the fact that they had shallow roots in the pond bottom.) This may be another opportunity, though most likely for night photos or video. We’ll see…
A twofer, except they’re both half-assed, no real luck with the video this time, so consider these a teaser until I get better evidence. The video will illustrate it well enough.
So, right after we first moved in, we’d found some fox scat on the driveway, and then not another sign at all, save for a neighbor telling us she’d seen one in the past. When I’m in the upstairs bathroom window watching for the morning activity of the wood ducks, the view down lower, closer to the house, is largely blocked because I stand back from the window so the ducks are less likely to see me. So the grey fox (Urocyon cinereoargenteus) appeared rather abruptly on the path leading down to the water’s edge, before I’d even seen any sign of ducks; the camera and microphone were switched off because of this, and the fox didn’t wait around as I was correcting this. Thus the abysmal clip.
[Note: red foxes and grey foxes would be distinguishable by the overall color of their coats, you would think, but this is hardly the case. Both often sport a good mix of red and grey throughout, so the only dependable way to tell them apart is, red foxes have a white tailtip, just like the cartoons, while grey foxes have a black strip that runs down their entire spine and to the tailtip. To date, I believe I have only seen grey foxes anywhere in NC; this is not to say they’re the only species around, only that they’re the one I’ve had the privilege of seeing.]
Also, while it occurred well out of sight a few hundred meters distant, I’m fairly certain the cat squall was only a warning and not the cat falling prey to the fox, though there’s a decent chance it was indeed from an encounter; cats have a distinctive warning cry, different from when they’re injured. Foxes tend to take smaller prey like field mice and small birds, since they’re only marginally bigger than cats to begin with – fluffier, but pretty lean under that coat. Would they take a wood duck? Perhaps, especially since those are smaller and possess no defensive measures. But a nutria, even a small one? Unlikely. A house cat? Also unlikely – house cats are fierce fighters. I wouldn’t rule either out, but foxes really do seek other, easier meals.
As for the wild turkeys (Meleagris gallopavo,) The Girlfriend was the one that spotted them while I was napping, quickly waking me because of course, and my initial view was of all four collecting on the lawn leading down to the pond’s edge, a near-perfect view. The camera equipment was still tucked away in Deep 13 from an unsuccessful project the day before though, down two flights of stairs, so by the time I arrived and set up, the turkeys had moved along. After the brief clips, I did go down onto the deck, and then down in the yard, to chase frames as they moved on.
Since I was handholding the long lens at this time, I wanted to count on autofocus so I could have a steadier grip without playing with the focus ring (which is, unhelpfully, towards the base of the lens,) but the environment simply wouldn’t allow it and focus went all over the place, so I had to switch to manual. This meant few sharp images, especially when there was virtually no perspective that wasn’t semi-obscured by foliage. Again, proof of their presence, but none of these are going to become prints.
At no time have we lived in an area that didn’t host wild turkeys, but my views of them have been few and far between, and I think I’ve only heard their calls once. Here’s hoping that this is the beginning of their visits, though we’ve had enough one-off species come by that I’m not holding my breath. The camera is staying ready on the tripod, though.
Don’t they say, “Never assume you know the answer to something that hasn’t been tried”? (And where should the question mark go in that sentence? Do I have it right? Or should I have rephrased it so it wasn’t even an issue?) (And who’s “they”? Or is that, “Who’s they?” Fucking quotes, man…) So while I can easily say, “It’s just superstition, don’t bother,” am I not performing due diligence by resorting to that? I’m no scientist (duh!) but I try to behave like one where it’s important.
With that lede out of the way and You The Reader inescapably intrigued, I’ll say that, two nights ago as I was looking over the black knight butterfly bush by the light of the headlamp, I came across several crab spiders, but remarked internally that I have never yet seen something here that I used to see every year at the old place, and that was, the jagged ambush bugs that also adored the butterfly bushes. I idly put this down to subtle differences in the environment, but only idly, because that didn’t necessarily make sense: the genus is present throughout the US. And then last night, just 24 hours (give or take) past wondering about that, I find this:
The crumpled and unmoving butterfly was the giveaway, because as you can see, the jagged ambush bug (Genus Phymata) is hard to distinguish even this close, though it’s center-frame. Seen from above its back, the head sits just behind that long-thin butterfly antenna, the body extending to the left and slightly upwards. The coloration is blending in with the reddish dead blossoms of the bush pretty damn well, even though being on one of the more active, healthy clusters would provide more concealment. I’ve seen this a lot: ambush bugs tend to stay on a cluster until it’s quite dead, one of the reasons that I always drop the severed clusters underneath when I’m dead-heading the bushes, because I’m almost guaranteed to clip one that’s still occupied, by either an ambush bug or a crab spider, and this makes it a little easier for them to climb back up and find a new spot.
A little closer now:
Yeah, it’s a little soft, but there are mitigating thingies. Ambush bugs are small, never getting longer than 15mm, so I had to be close to get this. But the cluster was actually a little above eye level on a long stalk, so it moved at the slightest provocation, which did not combine well with my holding a heavy rig up high with nothing to brace against, and I normally sway a little regardless – it was all a matter of trying to time when the combined swaying reached tight focus. Add in, even late at night, both the viewfinder and my glasses fogged almost immediately, and so within a couple of seconds I couldn’t see clearly enough to tell anyway, and had to pause to clear both. I was just after a couple of illustrations; I didn’t want to set up a tripod, branch anchor, and fan just to get a few frames of a subject I’ve done before anyway. I’m whining again, aren’t I?
But getting back to the title and opening statements, I might have to do some experiments on wondering about subjects that I haven’t spotted, and seeing if this influences finding them soon afterward. I’d probably need to ensure I’m wearing my lucky socks though.
[So you know, I haven’t worn socks in months, and even sandals have been avoided in favor of bare feet for the past several weeks – it’s been too hot to even consider them. I actually limit the amount of time I’m out in ‘public’ because I have to have footwear, which really does get uncomfortable fairly quickly.]
While out there, I decided to chase another subject I’d found earlier, one of the larger crab spiders I’ve seen, though on the dog fennel and not the butterfly bush.
Now, “larger” is relative, since she wasn’t large enough to cover my thumbnail, but for crab spiders (Family Thomisidae,) this is pretty big – most times, they run from 2-6mm in body length, but this one was pushing 10. I would suspect she’s gonna drop an egg sac soon.
That was full-frame, by the way. Let’s go in closer, since even with the conditions described (moaned about) above, I managed a reasonably sharp frame.
So here’s the deal: BugGuide gives an identifying characteristic of Genus Mecaphesa as the anterior lateral (front outside) eyes being slightly larger than the median (inside,) which is clear here – but also list the species as normally ‘hairy’ which this isn’t, really; see the other illustrating images at that link. This is part of the fun of trying to provide accurate identification – there’s more work that goes into these posts than you might suspect. Yeah, I know, “And this is still what we get,” I hear you, shut up.
One last, because I was there and I want to.
This tiny juvenile Carolina anole (Anolis carolinensis) was snoozing on a mint plant when I went in close, and cropped even closer for this – the head is literally smaller than my pinky nail. Calling it “green” isn’t doing justice to this palette – I personally wouldn’t even attempt to paint this accurately. You know, that’s why I’m a photographer…
Macro bellows. Largely the same as above, but a continually variable level of extension that can 
