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 observes 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.

Tip Jar 30: Inspiration

Let’s face it: We all have to deal with stagnation every once in a while (some of us more than others) – chasing the same subjects, using the same approach, locked into a particular style. Now, don’t get me wrong: Having a distinct style (one that’s appealing, mind you) and being known for producing certain results can be a huge benefit, and it’s how most of the well-known photographers have become well-known. Yet there’s also such a thing as being in a rut, or in simply not having anything compelling to photograph. Thus this week’s topic in how to develop something new to do.

I’ll start with, don’t think you always have to be productive. Just maintaining this here blogarama puts a certain obligation on me, admittedly self-imposed, to always have content, which has it’s benefits and detriments. There’s no actual necessity, nothing relies on it, and pushing too hard can lead to producing substandard stuff just to be producing something. Yet, it’s an exercise in being able to produce more-or-less on demand, and keeps me motivated to examine things, both photographically and educationally. I’ll leave it up to you to determine if any part of this is working functionally…

Sometimes, all you need to do is have patience and wait for inspiration to hit, because it usually comes along. Yet it’s not a dependable thing, and can easily come in fits and surges, so depending on it, especially if you have some reason to do something now, isn’t the best of practices. If you’re simply not getting any inspiration at all, perhaps it’s time to switch up a little. But other than that, try not to sweat it.

Meanwhile, here are a few ideas to potentially awaken some creativity or motivation or remind you of potential projects.

Weekly challenges. These can be hit-or-miss, in many ways. I’ve participated in a few, usually encouraging myself to participate in every one, and this can very easily lead to substandard work. I’m inclined to say, if you do something like this, see if it sparks new ideas or techniques or whatever, but don’t force it. If you’re not inspired by the challenge, let it go that week.

planetary composition with balloon, racquetball, and spot light source
Photo A Day. The idea being, take at least one photo a day, maybe limited to one, maybe not, but make it count – aim for print-quality, best-you-can-accomplish kind of stuff. I’ve never had this work well. It sounds good, but it’s definitely forcing things to happen, and while this works occasionally, in my experience, it fails more often than it succeeds. And when you notice this, it’s discouraging.

Study what others are doing. Much better. While seeing what kind of bar is set can occasionally (often) be daunting, especially if you’re looking at the best sources you can locate, the fact that someone else produced something you find compelling is proof enough that it’s possible and within reach. Don’t just admire work, though; study it, break it down to its components, figure out the lighting or the technique or the timing, whatever, to gain an understanding of how you might want to do something of a similar nature.

Recognize, too, that what you’re seeing is perhaps their best work, and it might be a solitary piece among a lot of rejects. No one can do excellent work constantly, no one keeps everything they produce.

If you find yourself starting to get discouraged, thinking your work is never going to be up to standards or competitive, just cruise around social media or ‘average’ sources for a while, and compare your work to that. You’ll feel better quickly.

Change/expand your style. If you typically shoot single-flash, close-background work, or natural light, or have a fixed studio setup, or a fixed macro setup – whatever – try something new. Add a reflector or fill-flash, a secondary light someplace, switch to backlighting, try shooting from a blind or a fixed location, stake out a potential subject, get higher, get lower, do more candid work. What can be considered the opposite of what you were doing? Try that,

Recreate a favorite from someone else. Yes, a crass copy – the goal here is not to try and pass this off as your own style, but to challenge yourself to replicate the conditions, lighting, expression, and so on. This can be a lot of fun. but also a great lesson towards figuring out how the image worked in the first place, or how to balance the lighting in the same way, or how to achieve the angle that was used. Along the way, you will almost certainly learn something, and might well be inspired to tackle something new but related.

Also, if it’s a portrait, you can up the ante by making your copy a self-portrait. No one needs to see it…

Lens drop flower
Revisit/recreate a past photo of your own. Maybe it’s one that you always liked, but realize you can do better now; conversely, you might have always thought you could do better – now’s the time.

By the way, recreating a landscape shot is perhaps one of the hardest things you might do. Just being in the right location might require some effort, but to also get the weather conditions and lighting and foliage quality and all that? This is one you might take months or years to reproduce effectively.

Begin a photo story. This can be anything you want, whether it’s a life cycle or a dramatic occurrence or something completely fictional. While such things are most often used for traveling to a new location, change it up a bit. Realizing that you now have to illustrate something in particular can open up a whole new approach, or simply make you realize that more photos of a different nature are needed.

Go someplace new. It doesn’t have to be far, it doesn’t have to be ideal – and in fact, I often recommend against the places that are popular, for numerous reasons, among them being too crowded, too developed, or done to death. Just get out and explore whatever environment suits you – or for a real challenge, one that does not.

By the way, never go someplace with the expectation that you will find great subjects or remarkable vistas or whatever. No place has guarantees, every place has bad conditions at times. Plus, if it’s too easy, anyone can do it. However, if you get someplace that isn’t meeting with your hopes, well, there’s your new challenge: find something anyway.

Atlantic ghost crab Ocypode quadrata fluorescing under ultraviolet light
Branch out. Try a different genre than you have before – portraiture, photojournalism, boudoir, product photography, high-contrast, abstract, chiaroscuro, special effects, film, developing, advanced editing, time-lapse, pinhole, infra-red… it’s easy to find something else, so determine what it actually takes to accomplish it. Chances are it’s more than you imagined. Which is a warning in itself: Don’t accept a paying gig in a genre you haven’t tackled before – this can easily turn out badly when you discover that you’re really not prepared, no matter how experienced you are in other fields. That said, it’s easier now than ever to find instruction, guidance, videos, and advice on other fields, what with the webbernets. Back when I was shooting film, it required finding books, magazine articles, or mentors. And we had to carry our own cameras (well, okay, still do…)

Maintain a list of projects and subject goals. Mine’s rather haphazard, better than half of them being only in my head, but it’s lengthy. Any time that things get slow, or you enter the off-season, or the weather keeps you indoors, dig out the project list and see what’s available.

Some of these might require a specific time of year – this is the time to put a reminder in your calendar that pops up with enough advance warning to prepare for when it occurs. If preparation is required, put in reminders for that too (“Look for hip-waders.”)

Wittnauer Professional rangefinder camera in excellent condition manufactured from 1957-1960
Dig out some old equipment to use, or purchase some. This can be a fun pastime, or lead to a whole other pursuit. granted, in photography this likely means you’ll be trying to find the right film, and the place to get it developed (unless what you’ve dug out is darkroom equipment,) but it’s often worth the effort. Plus, you may now have the opportunity to try some techniques or media that don’t translate well to digital, like multiple exposures or portrait films – I still can’t believe we ditched portrait films…

Modify your equipment for those esoteric needs. I don’t want to tell you how often I do this, and it’s liable to be a Tip Jar post of its own, perhaps more than one. But having a piece perfected and ready to go when the subject that needs it pops up is a major boon. Specialized lighting, backdrops, additions to the camera bag, specialty clothing – whatever. Not everything is available for purchase, or (like me, very often) you may be unwilling to pay the exorbitant price that’s asked, so now it’s up to you to create it yourself.

There are undoubtedly more, but I’m up against a deadline here (actually, already past it,) and so I’ll count on 1,500 words to at least give you a start ;-) In fact, I was largely done with the the post, laying in the illustrative photos, and added another 100 words with another topic. Anyway, good luck with it!

Maintain the lead

In a previous post (don’t I say that a lot? Livin’ in the past, livin’ in the past) I mentioned that the tag, ‘Carolina anole’ was the most prevalent on the ol’ bloggachomps here, and since we just recently had a post about the runner-up, ‘Chinese mantis,’ we now have to feature more anoles just to prevent slipping from first place. This is how I justify featuring more of the same subjects…

When last we left our heroes, I had complained about not being able to get images because the lens refused to avoid fogging up, regardless; this picks up later on that evening, when I was able to see enough through the camera to continue to pursue the subject. So we have an example of what I could see from a ‘normal’ viewing distance:

immature Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis sleeping on hairy-stem spiderwort Tradescantia hirsuticaulis
This, I think, is a pretty good representation of the visibility, especially on something with paler leaves. And now we go in closer.

immature Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis sleeping on hairy-stem spiderwort Tradescantia hirsuticaulis
That leaf, of a hairy-stem spiderwort (Tradescantia hirsuticaulis,) is about the width of my finger. If the anoles stayed the color they normally are during the day, they’d be a lot harder to spot, but they tend to go quite pale at night, more towards yellow, and this makes them easier to see against the leaves. We have a plant out front, dunno what it is, with mottled chartreuse leaves, that I have yet to find an anole on at night, and it might simply be because I’d have to be looking carefully from right on top of it to see it.

I moved around for more of a portrait angle, revealing that the anole was awake.

immature Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis with mouth open, not sleeping on hairy-stem spiderwort Tradescantia hirsuticaulis
I didn’t see this little action while I was getting the pic, so it seemed to have happened right as I tripped the shutter – it does make the anole look, I don’t know, vaguely affronted maybe? Stuffed up with a cold? I’ll let you decide.

Not too far away, the dangling leg and tail gave away another, quite large adult.

large adult Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis sprawled in branches of azalea bush
This one was immediately aware of my presence, though as usual, disinclined to actually do anything about it. I think this is less due to complacency and more to going into a semi-torpor at night, perhaps because their night vision is lacking, perhaps because of their metabolism, perhaps because staying motionless is generally safer than drawing attention by attempting to scamper away – plenty of predators recognize specific movements to indicate prey. Meanwhile, don’t ask me what that brown ‘thread’ stretching through the frame is, because I don’t recall it – possibly a dried vine.

large adult Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis draped in branches of azalea bush, showing evidence of recent molting
If you look closely, you can see faint vestiges of dried skin on both the nose and the toes, indicating this one was in some stage of molting. This fits, I think, because I believe I’ve tended to see it happen following a rain, and it’s possible they need the additional moisture to facilitate the process. You’d think from the overbearing heat we’ve had that their skin would be flaking away frequently and without issue, but this is the first I’ve seen molting this season.

In a way, I’d almost like to be able to sleep like this, though I don’t want to know what my back would feel like in the morning…

Around front, we check back in with the female with the ratty tail.

recogniozalbe adult female Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis with damaged tail, snoozing on star jasmine Trachelospermum jasminoides
Easily identified by that tail damage, she’s taken to sleeping on the star jasmine (Trachelospermum jasminoides) wrapped around the lamp post out front. Which she has occupied for quite some time, to be honest. It’s handy to have a way to identify an individual, so I can keep track of their habits and life events – this one appears to have hatched a few broods right here, or at least deposited the eggs for such, but since the location always sports a few newborns when that season rolls around, the evidence favors her being successful, especially when no other anole is seen so regularly here. Have to fine an appropriate nickname for her…

Doesn’t mean we like it

So, the pond has been bouncing up and down rather dramatically; the first big rain that we had following the drastic draining filled it entirely back up again to the previous level, quite impressive considering how far down it extends, not depth-wise, but laterally south – it was a hell of a rain. Then, over the period of three days, it subsided back down to where it had been, mudflats and channels. It’s obvious there’s a smallish breach someplace that’s permitting it to drain out, but we haven’t yet located this, and it’s complicated to explain. Then we had another horrendously heavy rain, and presently it’s full again. We’re not really sure how this will play out, or if this is the norm now.

A few days ago while it was down to its lowest level, however, the ground around the Haunted Tree was exposed, and in the afternoon on that muddy flat we found an ominous scene:

kill scene of bird on exposed mud from pond subsiding
It was clear this was fresh, and from the cluster of feathers so close together, some predator had captured and at least starting eating a bird here, and not a small one. A flying predator like an owl or a hawk might leave a few feathers, but would typically carry away the victim to eat at a safer location, and had it been eaten in the branches above this site, the feathers would be scattered over a much greater area. We also found no carcass or even parts. We surmise that the predator was a raccoon, given how often we see them on the pond edge in the immediate vicinity, but the mud was criss-crossed with countless tracks: raccoon, deer, nutria, and squirrel visible, but nothing resembling anything else could be found. I would suspect fox or coyote too, except we’ve seen no sign of such in the area, save for finding some probable fox scat in the middle of the driveway immediately after moving in nearly two years ago, and nothing since.

Close examination of the feathers (a few collected for some detail shots) yielded the identity of the victim.

selection of green heron Butorides virescens feathers from kill site
I have a cloth that I use for a mini-studio backdrop, gunmetal grey on one side and medium brown on the other, and folding it over gave me both to set off the feathers for appropriate contrast. What we’re noticing here are two things: the pointed nature of the feathers on the right, and the size of the body coverts on the left, and while I should have included a scale, the weave seems to give a decent impression. These all show the iridescent dark green, but the kill site had plenty of brown and a little white.

feathers of green heron Butorides virescens from kill site, showing tan edging to body coverts
While several different species have the deep green in places, this is the most telling detail, that fine edging of tan on most of the coverts (the feathers that cover the main body of a bird, generally atop a layer of downy feathers.) We’ve seen this before, very recently.

representative portrait of green heron Butorides virescens during shooting session
Yes, almost guaranteed to be a green heron, and apparently, one that nested overnight in some lower branch within reach of a raccoon. Both The Girlfriend and I are very practical about how nature works, and that even preferred species will serve as a food source for something else, but that doesn’t mean we have to like it. And since we had one notable resident green heron on the pond, albeit one that would chase off an interloper from time to time, we had reason to believe that we’d lost him (very likely a male from that behavior) to a raccoon.

Except, before even finding the kill site, that same morning I’d seen a green heron hunting around the north end of the pond, so, which one of the two had it been? Was the resident now gone and the interloper free to hunt as desired? It would be nice if there was a decent way to tell them apart aside from glimpses of behavior, like who’s chasing who.

While here though, I get to illustrate something I talked about in that linked post, since I could photograph the feathers in controlled conditions. I mentioned why they didn’t always appear green, so here we go.

body covert feathers of green heron Butorides virescens under direct light showing green iridescence
Using a bright white LED flashlight to illuminate the feathers at a specific angle (from us, straight ahead but lower – note the shadows on the lower edges,) we can see that the green is iridescence, likely an interference pattern within the structure of the feathers that allows only deep green wavelengths to bounce back to our eyes. Changing the angle to directly overhead gave markedly different results.

body covert feathers of green heron Butorides virescens showing no iridescence under specific light angle
And boom, the green is gone, and so is the sheen to the feathers, allowing the bird to appear more slate grey when in direct sunlight. It’s actually pretty cool how this serves to preserve their subtlety in typical hunting conditions, and I imagine that during mating behavior, the herons know to fluff their feathers a certain way (and in certain light) to show off the brilliance of their colors to potential mates.

Now the follow-up to all this. Just two evenings ago when the water level was back to its former glory, we saw three green herons simultaneously – two together on one tree on Duck Island with no apparent animosity, and another hunting down on the low branches of Turtle Island just like the previous posts. I’m a little inclined to think the pair were siblings, this year’s brood, though this is the first evidence of fledging that we’ve seen, and only inferred at that. Still, good to see at this point.

Let’s have some mants

Even more of the backlog of photos that I have, trying to clear them out as I add still more to the stack.

On two non-successive night, I found a few mantids, which is about as many as I saw in total last year. Okay, there were probably more for last year, but not a lot – this location isn’t as liked by the mantids as the old place, as evidenced by ‘Chinese mantis’ being the second most-used tag on the blog, after ‘Carolina anole’ – it had led the count up until a few years ago when the latter species started appearing at the old place. Anyway, the first mantis found was actually larger than I expected.

Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis perched on aging hairy-stem spiderwort Tradescantia hirsuticaulis
While I can’t see the detail that would distinguish this from a European mantis, which is a spot on the insides of the forelegs, I’m going to rashly consider this a Chinese mantis (Tenodera sinensis,) because I have yet to see a European. Mantis, that is – I think I saw a European human some time in the past, about when I was eight or so. This one (the mantis again) was spotted from a distance, despite it blending in quite well with the hairy-stem spiderwort (Tradescantia hirsuticaulis,) because its belly was to me and the paler underside of the abdomen made it stand out. It was about twice the size as expected, so, good.

Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis on hairy-stem spiderwort Tradescantia hirsuticaulis with hand of author Homo sapiens sapiens for scale
After a little juggling while the mantis was starting to get spooked and shift position, I managed to get my hand in the frame for scale, though rotating the camera to vertical switched the flash to the wrong side, but oh well. You can also tell this was taken at night by the dark eyes of the mantis.

Perhaps three meters away, another was in evidence.

immature female Carolina mantis Stagmomantis carolina perched on unidentified weed
From the size and the upturned abdomen, I am considering this one a Carolina mantis (Stagmomantis carolina) instead, and from the green coloration, a female. Notice how both the abdomen and the hind legs have a patch of pinkish color at the same location; why is that? You’d think it would be camouflage, but it’s pretty generic in nature. Of course, we tend to view evolutionary traits as, ‘complete,’ things like camouflage being pretty good mimicry of the preferred habitats of the species, but it all had to start with something trivia and almost random, and gradually develop to be more specific and effective, so perhaps that’s what we’re seeing here. Or it could just be an accent piece, like a pocket square.

And scale, of course.

immature Carolina mantis Stagmomantis carolina with hand of author Homo sapiens narcissus for scale
This one was a lot easier to get my hand behind – in fact, it looks like the mantis hasn’t even twitched, and I just shifted shooting angle slightly. Perhaps this was much better camouflage than I thought, in that this is simply a mockup mantis constructed by the real one to attract attention away from it, so that dash of pink is a subtle attention-grabber. I mean, I found it by shape, but perhaps I’m not the target of the mimicry.

Two nights later, I found another of the same species, roughly the same size yet markedly different in coloration.

likely male immature Carolina mantis Stagmomantis carolina on wind spinner at night
The brown ‘urban camouflage’ coloration pegs this as most likely male, though the females can exhibit this color. But yeah, compared to the dash of pink of the other, this is a bit more refined in adaptation, doncha think? Just, not for this particular perch, which is a wind-spinner on the deck.

A moment of trivia: Even though I recognize many species instantly, I occasionally check to confirm with a source like BugGuide.net – not from insecurity (I don’t think,) but because I’ve been burned numerous times on taxonomical changes that have taken place since I first learned the scientific name for a species – it certainly happened with the Chinese mantis. And indeed, BugGuide gave another possible species with this appearance, Stagmomantis conspurcata instead. Only when I searched, I found nothing but the one reference on the page for S. carolina – no images, no species page, no other mentions. But there was a link to a paper, so I checked that out; it turns out that specimens that look like this but range from Texas down into Mexico may be S. conspurcata, or at least, this was the suggested re-classification due to notable differences. That means that, here in NC, we’re still dealing with nothing but S. carolina. For the time being.

The misting bottle was near at hand, so I played it over the mantis, which caused a momentary panic and then a pause to take advantage of the moisture, this occurring on a pretty damn sultry night after a blistering day, several days after the rains had rolled through.

immature Carolina mantis Stagmomantis carolina consuming mist from own legs and eyes
At the old place, my misting was fairly frequent, and the mantids were often delighted to receive it, at least if their springing from cover to bask in the drifting droplets, and then immediately drink it from their legs and eyes, was any indication. I mean, we have to be careful not to misinterpret behavior based on our own expectations, but I suspect I’m safe with this one.

So, we’ll see how much more often I find these guys, and whether I can locate an egg sac this fall. Or better, actually snag some frames of one being produced, still a major goal of mine.

Let’s have some plants

I have a small collection of plant images from around the Estates, so we’re finally getting to those now, before we have more critters.

I mentioned previously about the new hibiscus (Malvaceae) plant, and so we’ll concentrate on the part that everyone thinks about when they think ‘hibiscus,’ except for Hawai’i and hula dancers and all that stuff.

first blooms of new hibiscus Malvaceae plant at night
These are the first blooms, having opened overnight and so that’s when I shot them, not long after a rain. The blossoms are of course huge, these being perhaps even bigger than average at somewhere around 20cm across. Or do we need to see them during the day?

fully open blooms of hibiscus Malvaceae during the day
It would be easy to believe they’re bleached out here in the sunlight, comparing them to the previous image, but it really does seem like they lose a bit of saturation when they open fully. Or it could be both.

The flowers last a day, really no more than that, but this one had numerous buds so it’s been in bloom steadily for the past few weeks. We got it partially just to have one within reach; there were two other hibiscus plants on the property, one visible only from the kayaks, another a bit of a hike out on the island but drowned out when the water levels kept rising. This one’s safe.

white seedless Marquis grapes on second year vinesLast year The Girlfriend bought seven or eight grapevine seedlings, but they remained in temporary pots while we waited for a contractor to remember that they still had a job to finish (shocking, I know,) since the location we wanted for the arbor was too close to where the contractors would be working. So they stalled in pots until mid fall before getting planted. They’d barely started climbing the arbor this year, mostly trying to run sideways instead and interfere with each other, but the seedless Marquis vine popped forth this little cluster, surprising us. Unfortunately, the deer discovered them just a couple days ago, and so we won’t have the bountiful harvest this year. Still, we believed grapevines took a few years to mature before bearing fruit, so this was a great sign at least.

We’d made several attempts at a garden at the former Walkabout Estates, but the soil simply didn’t seem adequate, and we fought with keeping a lot of our plants going, unless they were in pots. This was a shame, because the old-old Estates had remarkable soil and the garden there exploded. We’d tried one last year, the first year in the new location, but it was too exposed for the brutal heat of the summer, so we switched to a 3/4 shade location this time. Tilling that patch was a major bitch, given the running roots of both cypress and pine trees throughout the chosen location, but the soil seemed much better.

cherry tomatoes ripening in garden of Walkabout Estates Plus
It was – the tomato plants are kicking ass, with the peppers right behind, as well as basil and several squash plants that we never planted but apparently discarded the seeds of such into the compost bin, springing forth when we mixed this into new potting soil. Since this is the first viable garden we’ve had in over a decade, we’re psyched. We’ve already had several tomatoes and basil from our garden, and they beat the ever-loving hell out of the produce you get in the grocery stores around here.

We’ve noticed two tiny little flowers that only appear in the morning, and I finally set out to get a few pics and identify them. These are tentative, based on identifying them through my Plant Net app on the smutphone, so the closest I can reasonably get (or will, for a post.) The white ones tend to open earlier and remain open longer, so we’ll start with those.

tiny white flowers of possibly juniper leaf Polypremum procumbens during brief time open in morning
I didn’t tackle these with the macro lens, just the 18-135, so I didn’t get as close as I could’ve. Even though it was a little cooler this morning, only about 3-4° above indoor temperature, the humidity was off the scale and I still fought (and failed) to keep condensation off of the lens, so these pics all had a contrast tweak to counteract the faint fog. I know, I should have let the lens sit outside to get to ambient temperature – only I did. Glass, like metal, still remains cooler than the air it’s within, and this was enough to attract the moisture.

Anyway, these are likely the flowers of a juniper leaf plant (Polypremum procumbens,) and very tiny, looking like little more than a scattering of confetti – you can see a blade of grass in the background.

I was up a hair too early for the others.

unopened bods of likely Kiss Me Quick Portulaca pilosa plant
The sun had risen, but still wasn’t reaching this spot (this is with the macro flash,) so the flowers remained closed. I’ll have to set up a time-lapse sequence for these someday, but someday when it’s not so damn humid. I’ll also have to shade the camera doing it too, since it shouldn’t sit out in the sun for the length of time that a time-lapse would take. But this time around anyway, I returned about 90 minutes later.

now-opening blossoms of likely Kiss Me Quick Portulaca pilosa after sunrise
These were roughly three times the diameter of the white flowers, which still doesn’t make them big – give or take, 10mm across. Almost certainly, these are part of the Portulaca Genus, possibly Portulaca pilosa, which goes by the common names of chisme or Kiss Me Quick, because that’s what people do with flower names.

fully-open blossom of likely Kiss Me Quick Portulaca pilosa
I have to say that, I’d seen these the previous morning when the camera wasn’t in hand, and returned in early afternoon, when there wasn’t the faintest sign or either. These here closed up by the time the sun was getting hot, mid-morning or so, meaning they have a narrow window to get pollinated – or have evolved to favor pollinators that would only be active earlier, closing up to avoid attracting others that might come later. Honestly, while it’s an interesting question, I’m not motivated to sit out in this weather and tally what kind of arthropods visit – just look at the pics, okay?

Tip Jar 29: Sunrises and sunsets

sunset colors with crepuscular rays
A perennial favorite, yet most often snagged only as someone notices them and not as much planned for, so let’s do a little planning.

Know your times. There are a million ways to know when sunrise and sunset are going to occur, but there are two primary things to consider. The first is, any source that doesn’t calculate your actual position (i.e., know where you are) is likely to be off to some extent, so apps or online sources that ask for your location are best. The second is, astronomical rise/set times can be fudged, even with a precise location, by two things: a horizon that it not right at the Earth’s edge, like trees or hills, and atmospheric distortion, which can actually make the sun appear better than its own width away from the actual position. So never count on to-the-second precision, and be ready early.

There are two nature photography terms: the golden hour and the blue hour, both applying to sunset and sunrise conditions – neither are an hour long, by the way. The golden hour refers to the periods while the sun is still up but getting colored by the thicker atmosphere near the horizon, typically about 45 minutes, while the blue hour refers to when the sun is below it, and tends to be much shorter at about 15-20 minutes. Both provide useful color casts for subjects, though we tend to favor the golden hour more, especially for people.

Know the position. The sun and moon arc across the sky and shift throughout the year, touching the horizon in a different place every day (technically, the same spots twice a year save for two particular days when it’s only once a year – I’ll let you figure out what those are.) Knowing where this will be means you have the ability to use the next tip.

This also means knowing compass bearings, especially for plotting where the sun will break the horizon at sunrise, and there’s no real substitute for an actual compass – one that allows directional sighting is best, but you don’t have to go too expensive. What you do need to know is magnetic declination, because magnetic north is not true north for just about everyplace on the globe, and the compass will need a slight adjustment to plot true north (and perhaps again if you travel far enough.) I’ve used smutphone apps for compass headings and these are wildly variable, dependent on whether or not the phone manufacturer actually included a magnetic compass function in the first place – if not, the app will attempt this through GPS and the bearing can be way off, even wandering around while the phone is motionless. But failing these, good mapping software will allow you to plot a compass line and perhaps line it up with some landmarks.

Plan and plot your composition. You have the ability to put the sun (or moon) right in the middle of something at times – rising right behind a building or down the line of the street, alongside the lighthouse or just off the mountain peak, whatever. This means either specific timing during the year, or placing yourself in an ideal spot that the composition falls together. It becomes worth it if you produce that unique frame where everything works.

sunrise clouds off Jekyll Island showing distant rain storms
Clear days actually work against you. A bright yellow sun breaking the horizon, with just a haze-colored sky, is boring, and where I used to live in central NC, this was surprisingly typical. It also means the sun will be unbearably bright just a short ways from the horizon itself. Clouds add the drama, and the colors, and the textures – being just a bit away from a storm is what makes the really complicated skies and layers and so on. Usually, just after a storm for sunsets, but perhaps well after a storm (several hours) for sunrises. Fronts moving through, barometric pressure changing – these are the things that contribute mightily to how the sky will look, and change the sun from yellow to orange or blood red, while the clouds get the reds, pinks, purples, and slate blues in the shadows.

Atmospheric particulate matter can also help. This means smoke – timely right at the moment – ash (from volcanoes) or even sand. If there are wildfires to the west of you, start watching the sunsets, and if it gets thick enough, you might even get something at midday. Stay safe though, and don’t even bother if the air quality is really bad – no pic is worth it.

Bracket exposures. Take several frames of the best compositions, both over- and under-exposed by 1/3 stop at a time, so one frame right where the camera’s light meter says is ‘proper,’ than 1/3, 2/3, and one full stop over-exposed, and also 1/3, 2/3, and one full stop under-exposed. In this way, you bring out the subtleties of the cloud colors or deeper shadows. Exposure is going to depend on what metering setting you’re using and where, exactly, you’re aiming in the sky – a subtle twitch of the camera in algorithm-controlled metering can change the exposure significantly, and there’s no way to describe how to handle every situation, so just bracket. Over-exposure tends to wash out the saturation of the colors, but if you’re metering close to a bright visible sun, you may need this to bring out the cloud colors rather than letting them descend into being too dark.

Things change very rapidly. If you see the sky doing great things and aren’t in position to take advantage of it, it’s probably too late – by the time you get to someplace photogenic or even go into the house to get the camera, the sky will have changed. Occasionally, a small break in the clouds someplace out of sight over the horizon will let the sunlight play through in amazing ways, but this may last 10-30 seconds.

To that end:

Don’t abandon that location or subject too quickly. An overcast sky and no visible sun isn’t always a luckless day – those breaks in the cloud cover can occur many kilometers away out of sight, and suddenly the light comes through and illuminates the undersides of the clouds with a dazzling light show – this might occur up to ten minutes past astronomical sunset (or, ten before sunrise.) It doesn’t happen often, but just be ready.

Plan ahead a little. So, you waited out the sunset, despite the overcast, and now you have to head back home. In the dark. Just be aware of how you got there and the need to see the trails or even just decent footing. The same goes for being on location for sunrise – you might not think you need the headlamp for sunrise and set shoots, but that’s why you’re now thinking it all the way through.

sunrise over breakers, Indialantic Beach, Florida
Crepuscular rays. The technical term for sunrays, these require a decent amount of humidity, and something to block portions of the sunlight to cast shadows through it. Most dependable where this ‘something’ is in the landscape, like mountains, but can occur anywhere, from just about anything, most often clouds. Between their movement and the sun’s own, they may not last more than a couple of minutes, sometimes as brief as 30 seconds. Besides bracketing exposure, if you have the time, playing around with the contrast settings isn’t a bad idea either, and metering from the sky right where they are can help a bit.

Don’t ignore the opposite direction. We tend to focus on where the sun is, so always look around every few minutes, because the sky behind you might be doing fabulous things. This is also where you can get the Belt of Venus, and cool moon rises or sets, and subjects illuminated by the great twilight coloration. In fact, if you’re doing portraits or family photos or even just cool seaside towns, you may get much better compositions this way than watching what the sun is doing. Also be aware, rainbows occur opposite the sun.

Backlighting. When the sun’s down nice and low, this is a great time to see what things look like with either some nice sharp light, or a colorful sky, showing through and behind them, and there are lots of different subjects to do this with. Again, exposure is occasionally tricky, so bracket a bit. But also pay attention to diffraction effects from moisture or spiderwebs – dewy or misty mornings are great times to approach this technique, while the light is highlighting everything distinctly.

spider in web backlit by post-sunset twilight
You don’t need to go wide. Just because the entire sky isn’t putting on a dazzling display doesn’t mean you won’t have something to work with. Sometimes, there’s just one little patch that works, and isolating that can make great frames. Don’t neglect the reflections in the water, either. And this is where the wildlife can work, as you follow birds until they cross that one great patch of sky or water, or simply silhouette them against the yellow glow even when the sky itself is boring. Don’t ignore the glitter trails either, those bands of rippling water that reflect the higher sun in thousands of little points – this is exactly where that small aperture will produce little pointed starbursts. And then again, a wide-open aperture, unfocused on the glitter, will produce hundreds of hazy background orbs instead.

sunrise colors at Avon NC
Foreground subjects. These are pretty tricky, and the general rule is, don’t count on being able to capture them distinctly. Having an exposure that makes the sky look fabulous often means that anything in the foreground is under-exposed significantly, often to the point of silhouetting – it’s backlit, after all, and often the ambient light levels are now quite a bit lower. With extreme luck you might have a towering cloud bank opposite the sun that bounces a little light to the shady side of things, or you can use a reflector for smaller subjects, but for the most part, you’re not going to see much and still have good sky colors. This is where people often resort to High Dynamic Range (HDR) functions or editing, combining exposures aimed at the sky and then at the foreground, but these are usually widely disparate and the results frequently look fake as hell, especially to anyone with a modicum of experience. Using a fill-flash can occasionally work, but typically this means your foreground subject is illuminated by white light while everything else is yellow, orange, pink, whatever – again, fake looking (and why a reflector works much better.) You can put an appropriate gel over your flash, and if you’re doing portraiture, this is practically a necessity, but overall, don’t plan on foreground details and good exposure.

The green flash. This is a phenomenon where, just as the barest vestige of sun is right on the horizon, the atmospheric distortion changes it to brilliant green – it generally requires pretty clear conditions and the right level of humidity. Most people chase this at sunset, since you can follow the sun going down, and this means a good westerly view right to the horizon at sunset – meaning, west coast or gulf coast of Florida, for the continental US. But you can also accomplish this at sunrise, too, so east coast denizens aren’t out of luck; it’s just that, you have to be ready exactly at visual sunrise, or you’ll miss it.

This is a little easier than it sounds, even with the caveat above about not trusting plotted sunrise times. The horizon will glow with the approaching sun, perhaps even providing a sun pillar, and the glow will become extremely pronounced within thirty seconds of sunrise – if the sky’s clear enough, you’ll know it. Be aimed and ready, eye to the viewfinder and finger on the shutter (firm tripod of course,) and you can catch it. Of course, it’s much easier with video.

If the sun isn’t too dogawful bright by then, there’s also a magenta flash as it loses contact with the horizon, but don’t go blind or damage your sensor concentrating on this one.

You can also refer to this compositional post on sunrises and sunsets – some duplicate info in there of course, but several additions that I haven’t included in this one.

So there you have it: everything you need to know* to get great sunrise and sunset images. Good luck!

* Not everything you need to know. But a lot.

twisted colorful sunset clouds surrounding pine branches

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