Get back, winter!

We’ve had a couple of overnight frosts and some generally cool days, and I figured the treefrogs had packed it in for the winter, though the aquatic frogs in the backyard pond might still be sporadically active. Recently a warm front pushed in, bringing quite nice temperatures and a bit of rain, and last night I went out in just a t-shirt (well, okay, pants too) to take a peek in the backyard. As suspected, a couple of the green frogs (Lithobates clamitans) were out of the pond and both resting, a few meters apart, on the lower crossbar of the fence.

green frog Lithobates clamitans perched on fence

another green frog Lithobates clamitans perched on fence
Both of these are fairly good-sized for the species, so they’ve been doing well in the pond, and they’re far from the only residents – I’ve known of five at a time in there, and last night I saw four of them, one unidentified species being quite small. I was walking very slowly and carefully because the yard is littered with leaves and spotting frogs in those conditions is extremely difficult.

But they weren’t the only frogs to be found, and the next ones surprised me.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea perched desperately on siding
My count for last night was six green treefrogs (Hyla cinerea,) of different sizes, all in the backyard. I’d been hoping, only a few months ago, to get some established in the yard, but this was more than expected, especially since they’ve outnumbered the Copes grey treefrogs at the best of times.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea on planter pole
When I first saw this one, on my way back in to get the camera, it was tightrope-walking up the black pole you see here, a peculiar sight since their legs are twice as long as they normally appear, splayed out awkwardly to either side. I will get an illustrating shot of it one of these days, but for now we have the typical perches.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea on gardenia leaf
I spotted this one from across the yard as I was photographing the previous – that bright hue certainly stood out against the gardenia leaves. This was also noticeably the biggest.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea settled down within downspout
You’ve seen a variation of this perspective before, and it’s possible this is the same frog, but it’s a different downspout. This one was the most difficult to photograph, since the space between the nearby rain barrel and the porch supports was very narrow, and I simply couldn’t work a better angle with the flash unit. This was also the only one to be found at midday today, right before I typed this.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea perched on cat 5 network cable
This was actually the first I’d spotted, the one that made me head back to get the camera, and I found three more in that short trip. The blue ‘pole’ is actually a standard network cable, the kind you plug into the back of your computer, or at least did – now everyone uses their smutphones, it seems. but yeah, tiny. In fact, here’s another shot to show scale:

green treefrog Hyla cinerea on cat 5 network cable with fingers for scale
Yep, able to fit comfortably on the pad of my middle finger, though I doubt it would have stayed put for those shenanigans.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea hanging on dried weed stem
This was the last, about the same size as the previous one and hanging on a dried stem in the garden. The warm rain really made them active last night, and might again tonight – who knows? But I’m pleased to see them again when the shooting season is winding down for the winter.

And to close, we return to the first treefrog in the gallery which, while I was shooting the others, crossed the upper deck to sit on the edge of the window and peer into the screened porch like a slimy green voyeur. I said I was wearing pants, so I can’t tell you what was motivating this one, and let you speculate on your own.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea peering through screen

The abstracts chase November off

unidentified flower buds
I couldn’t really pass this one up, as curious as it is. Back in October when cruising through the NC Botanical Garden, I happened across a small flowering plant, almost ready to blossom out, and the spiral pattern of the buds was compelling, so of course I had to go in straight down from the top. The dim natural light was part of the motivation behind the short depth, but also the idea that I didn’t want too much detail or sharpness from the image. I like the way it came out.

mystery landscapeMeanwhile, I present another image with a curious effect, but I have to admit this isn’t the best way of presenting it. It should be casually inserted into a gallery of other images without comment, letting people skim over it if they’re so inclined, waiting to see how many people catch the peculiarity of it. All I will tell you is that there is no trickery involved.

If you figured out what was special about it, good! And if not, even better, because it means it was as confusing as I’d hoped. If you were definitely wondering about the odd appearance of the sun or moon in there, I’d be happy. But perhaps it wasn’t that hard after all. Regardless, here’s the image as shot.

maybe not so mysterious now
I had been looking at the reflections of the bare trees in the nearly motionless water of a small stream, wondering how to make it slightly more interesting, when I saw the leaf approaching on the feeble current. It took a couple of minutes for it to get into position where I wanted it, probably making Mr Bugg wonder what the hell I was up to just standing there staring at the water, but again, I like the end result.

Podcast: Composition

Gret blue heron Ardea herodias in Indian River Lagoon, Florida
Yes, it’s finally here! The podcast I’ve been trying to finish for literally weeks! It will surely live up to the hype and anticipation…

Walkabout podcast – Composition

First off, since I’m speaking in generic composition terms within the podcast, you can click here for the entire list of posts that deal with composition, especially more specific and detailed aspects. There’s just a couple…

And while I’m at it, my views on art, a small part of the reason why I don’t pursue it rabidly. It’s got nothing to do with not being very good at it…

Did you get to the point where I demanded that you watch the video? Good – it’s this one [found here if the embed isn’t working for you]:


As noted, it’s not my video (I wouldn’t have used a suit,) but instead done by Daniel J. Simmons.

Bodie Island lighthouse at sunrise showing several composition elementsSeveral of the things I talk about in the ‘cast are illustrated within this one image, such as simplicity, point of focus (strong subject,) creating a scene, keeping the subject off-center, and framing to keep whole elements such as the boardwalk and the railed overlook. The overlook balances out the lighthouse, while the curve of the boardwalk helps direct our attention towards the subject, inviting us to come along. Also notice both the light quality/color and the angle, shaping the lighthouse and telling us it’s morning there; not only that, but both the overlook and the lighthouse are facing into the light, a subtly positive mood. A couple of clouds in the sky help fill in a large blank space, and the grasses tell us it’s a rustic setting – which is kind-of true. The lighthouse itself and the immediately-surrounding grounds are immaculately tended, but overall the locale is marshlands, which is more interesting and expressive, thus the “you choose what you want to portray” bit. Rule of thirds? Not really, but not far away – in other words, the concept is okay, but the mathematical precision so often given to the rule is completely unnecessary and not at all grounded in fact. if you want further detail about this, I’ve tackled it no less than three times: once, and again, and finally here.

But here’s another illustration, contrasting the rule with the approach I suggest, which is to use the elements within the frame to good affect.

lady beetle demonstrating elements within the frame
The faint grey lines indicate the thirds concept, where the ladybeetle kinda but not quite falls. More importantly, the entire frond is framed well, not cut off at any point and thus providing a complete setting, actually a key part of the scene, and aesthetically pleasant all by itself. The soft backlighting gives it a brilliant glow, contrasted by the dark and muted ladybeetle, while the remainder of the background seems to indicate not a lone plant, but a thicket, one among many – even though, when you look at it, it doesn’t have to be a very big patch at all; there’s just nothing that contradicts the idea. And overall, a strong emphasis on just “green,” which works for display prints quite well. This is what I meant when I suggest tearing apart a favorite image to understand how and why it works for you.

Sandhill crane Grus canadensis with horrible composition skillsAnd this is how you do it wrong – yes, I really did take this photo, at a time when I should have known better, and my only defense was shooting from a car window and anticipating the crane leaving the area before I could get off many frames. But look at how complicated and distracting the background details are, and how centered the crane is, and then the trash in the photo, and holy shit, the pole sticking right smack out of the top of the crane’s head! Seriously, do better than this (it’s not hard.)

azalea blossoms at Old Well UNC Chapel HillNow here are more illustrations of things I talked about, such as setting the point-of-focus against a contrasting color in the background, while also using the background to build a frame around the focal point. The soft light allows for the subtleties of the flowers (even when it produces a truly boring sky, which is why it’s minimized in this frame,) but the larger version show the raindrops on the blossoms much more distinctly, so the grey conditions become more understandable. The single flower is set apart from all of the others so our eyes go right there, assisted by the shorter focus range, but the background is still expressive and distinct; this is not a photo of a flower, but of a particular scene, and anyone at all familiar with UNC Chapel Hill recognizes Old Well instantly. Moreover, other distracting and unwanted elements are hidden behind the flowers by shooting at a low angle. It’s easy to shoot a landmark and just have a photo of a landmark, but with only a smidgen more effort, you can add a lot of charm to the scene.

Did you get a nice impression from the opening photo? Admittedly, the heron could have been a little more separated from the rocks, framed by open water in an ideal composition, but at least the head and beak are distinctive enough to grab our attention, and the colors of the water and rocks offset each other nicely. And it may be hard to tell, but the heron is showing a hint of the color and light angle that tells us, in this case, approaching sunset. But now take a look at the original frame, without the cropping:

great blue heron Ardea herodias with disturbing background
Makes a big difference, doesn’t it? if you originally got the impression of the heron being someplace out “in the wild” and far from civilization, good! That was the idea. Including the distant shoreline with its plethora of development changes the idea of where it was taken, and includes a lot of distraction that serves no purpose.

Now here’s another aspect, or at least the impression that I get. The version at top, without the shoreline, invites us to pay attention to the heron more, and we see it gazing at something out of the frame – there’s an implied direction that way, a definite bias to the left. But with the buildings in the picture, there’s another subject, and now the heron is oblivious to it all, seeming to gaze at nothing, but certainly paying no attention to the bustle beyond it, and we relate a lot less to the heron even though nothing about the heron itself has changed. Do you get the same impression?

black and white goats in high contrast lighting, extremely hard to see detailHere we see why high-contrast light doesn’t work for high-contrast subjects. The head of the kid becomes so indistinct that it’s impossible to tell where it stops and the shadow begins, and while there’s the faintest hint of a sheen from the black fur on its shoulder, it drops almost entirely into the bottom registers of the image, even while the white coat has bleached out to indistinct pure white in most places – it illustrates the narrow range quite well. Adjusting exposure for either aspect would have driven the opposing aspect even further out of range, so no matter what, we would have to pick which portion of the goats we simply didn’t want to see the detail of – or choose better light conditions to shoot within. I personally have three different presets on my cameras: an ‘average’ setting with mid-range contrast and saturation, then one with reduced contrast and saturation, and one going the opposite way with increased settings. The one with reduced contrast and saturation is for use in high-contrast lighting such as this, helping to control these extremes, while the increased contrast/saturation preset is for use when the light is low-contrast and muted, making the colors pop a bit better.

By the way, if you’re looking for more information about white balance and the failure of the Auto White Balance setting, this page should help a bit.

So there you have it; don’t just take a picture, but make it. And keep moving forward – we all have room for improvement, and the more you do it, the easier it becomes.

Good luck!

Still more Monday monochrome

tiger swallowtail on flowers, monochrome green channel
I’ve been playing around with photo editing, and decided to toss up a few more monochrome images because, you know, the weather’s turning grey and so you’ll want to see… even more… grey… that’s not really making sense, is it?

Too bad, I’m plowing ahead anyway!

Canada geese Branta canadensis stading on iced pondSome of these are relatively recent, some of them are much older, but all of them are fantastic! No need to exercise your own judgment – I’ll just go ahead and provide your own opinion to you, because you obviously need it.

Sorry, the last election got to me a bit.

If you’ve looked at previous posts regarding monochrome, you know what channel clipping is, so it makes sense when I say this is a blue-channel version, which brought out the best contrast. By the way, I’m really sorry that I didn’t have the audio recorder with me during this session, because the weight of the geese on the ice was producing the most wonderfully weird sounds – my best guess is from distant cracks shifting and chirping against one another. There’s no way I could describe it or compare it to anything, so my goal is to capture it again one day, but I realize this is pretty unlikely.

unidentified snail, blue channel monochrome

amaryliis blossom green channel monochromeThe image above is once again solely the blue channel, and this is somewhat typical of the results when using just blue – it tends to be the darkest, or at least it does for most of the images I shoot, anyway. It can also go pretty muddy at times, producing blotches in gradient areas, but this time around it came up sharp – this just might be a trait of the lenses I’ve used (all lenses bend different wavelengths of light by different amounts, and while some of them are good at correcting this within the lens array, not all of them are.) Regardless, the snail shell attracts attention while the head of the snail becomes much more subtle, and the whole thing gets moody. When Hollywood finally gets around to doing a film about a pathologically murderous snail, this image is here to guide them in producing the necessary ominous effect.

Meanwhile, you’ve seen a variation of the image at right before, but this time I went with just the green channel – it produced the right level of contrast from the pollen and the petals. Just converting to greyscale really wouldn’t cut it, because the red of the petals was almost as bright as the pollen itself, but since it was a nearly pure red, using the green channel eliminated almost all of the brightness from them.

A quick note here on framing and cropping, while we are still waiting patiently for me to finish the podcast on composition. It helped a lot to keep the pollen heads within the lines of the petals, letting their edges frame the focal point of the image, and the preventing the edges of the petals from being cut off by the left side of the frame helped convey a more ‘complete’ idea. And in this crop, there’s a subtle emphasis diagonally across the image, the lines of the petals emanating from top right while the pistil points towards lower left – this was completely intentional; I tend to ‘work the corners’ when I can.

juvenile Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis peeking from azalea blossoms, green channel monochrome
This one is subtle but I suppose not overtly so (“overtly subtle” – yeah, I need to work on my writing skills, thanks for pointing that out, now I feel worthless.) Using the green channel darkened the bright pink, or mauve or taupe or puce or whatever, of the azalea blossoms while brightening the main subject, reducing the contrast and so increasing the subtlety. I could have sworn I had posted color examples of these flowers the same year I took this, but cannot find any, so use the first image here to get an idea – it’s the closest I can get.

But now, let’s take a look at where the color channel thing produced a significant difference.

four o'clock flower Mirabilis jalapa pollen in green and blue channel monochrome
Same image, hard as it may be to believe; on the left is the green channel, and on the right is the blue channel, while the original colors of the flower can be seen here (and in the rotating header images if you’re patient enough.) Though remarkably different, I haven’t decided which one I like the best, so feel free to cast your vote. What with districting and the electoral college and all that, it will do you no good at all, but at least you’ll feel that you’re part of the process.

scattered fall leaves in monochromeYou can see a color version of this pic here, or at least one that was taken in the same spot, just framed a bit differently – that one has more color than this one did. But the stark lines of the grey leaves were interesting, so I converted it to see how it fared.

Finally at bottom, one from many days back, actually taken the same morning as this one. It’s green channel again, and was definitely in the running for the month-end abstract, but I have some others I could use and it dramatically closes out this greyscale post. Handheld in early morning natural light, the aperture was wide open at f4, so I had to pick the particular drops that I wanted in focus. I think it worked out well, myself.

morning dew on rose leaf in monochrome

An autumn grab bag

fall colors over a bend in Morgan Creek
So, a few days back we finally got out and found some decent fall colors, emphasizing just how widely variable the area is. A week earlier, the ineluctable Al Bugg and I had visited a spot on a river just a handful of kilometers north, and found most of the trees by the water well past peak and, in fact, bare. Then the first part of our outing this past Friday, in Mason Farm Biological Reserve, provided only patches of color here and there, but nothing significant. Shifting to the trails behind the NC Botanical Garden, climbing a small hill less than two kilometers away, we found the colors at peak and plenty of opportunities to do some nice autumn shots. So, yeah.

Hillside colors on nature trails of NC Botanical Garden
The biggest challenge is, as seen here, the thickness of the foliage. What people like to see for fall shots are a broad hillside of varied colors, or trees overhanging a woodland path, but we were unable to locate good examples of these conditions, and often when the colors could be seen, there were a lot of foreground trees complicating the compositions. There are still some key elements that I am in search of locally: a nice spot for fall colors, an old barn, house, or cemetery for really foggy mornings, and a stark tree or old barn in the middle of an open field for thunderstorm shots. It’s important that they not be too far away, to be reachable when the conditions are optimum. This is the kind of thing that photographers mentally catalog when they’re out and about.

sycamore leaf backlit with low light angleOf course, I couldn’t pass up my typical (actually, pretty trite by now) approach to colors when they’re scarce, this time in Mason Farm – I just liked the way the light angle was shadowing the leaf while still providing some backlight glow. Since this was before we had headed out to the colorful nature trails, I was working hard to produce something of interest for the outing – even though I already had a few images that will be highlighted towards the end of the post. You know how drama goes.

By the way, this one is a good candidate for converting to monochrome, by eliminating the green and blue channels and adding a selective boost in contrast. I haven’t added anything to the recent images page in far too long, and I’ll probably dump the converted version in there shortly, along with a bunch of others. There, now that I said it I’ll be motivated to get right on it, and they’ll be up within a day or two. Right?

It gets pretty cool at night now, occasionally frosting over, which means that wildlife activity, especially arthropods, is greatly reduced. We’re entering the winter slump when the posts are liable to get a lot more philosophical and the images a bit thinner, at least until I’m making enough to head much further south and shoot in Costa Rica or something. Yet we’re still not quite into the ‘winter’ conditions, or wildlife behavior, meaning that warm days can still bring out little scenes, like a quartet of painted turtles (Chrysemys picta) basking on the protruding branches of a sunken tree in a small channel at Mason Farm:

four painted turtles Chrysemys picta basking on two branches
The turtles in the channels of Mason Farm were quite spooky, so getting close enough to frame this shot took a careful approach; I really wanted to be able to frame the reflection of a colorful tree in the water beneath them, but it was not to be. At least the sun angle was in our favor.

There was one more interesting find along the channel, immediately after seeing these turtles, but that’ll come later.

The insects are few and far between right now, to no one’s surprise. Initially, it took a sharp eye to spot the first few, but that’s what I do and I know what to look for. So after I’d laid back on the ground under a low-hanging oak sapling to do photos of the leaves against the sky, spotting the pale green assassin bug (Zelus luridus) lurking under a leaf wasn’t too difficult.

pale green assassin bug Zelus luridus skulking under oak leaf
After sighting the first, it became clear that the oak was being favored by the species, since we found several more, most of them on the undersides of the leaves like this one, but a few actually out in the sunlight. This is where I thought they’d be most likely to be found, gathering up the solar energy in the short time that it was available rather than trying to avoid it, but what do I know?

A short while later, a lone bug was partaking of almost the only flowers to be seen, small and brilliant yellow, proving that even in the off season, something is around to take advantage of the flowers that might appear.

broken-backed bug Taylorilygus apicalis on small yellow wildflower
This is, I’m almost certain, a broken-backed bug (Taylorilygus apicalis,) and I can say that because I’ve photographed them before and did all the legwork then. No real skill in finding this one, tiny as it is, because a cardinal rule of insect photography is to pay close attention to clusters of flowers – they evolved to attract such attention (I mean from the bugs, not the nature photographers.)

(I think.)

Moving on from both the Reserve and the nature trails, we did a quick pass through the gardens proper, curious to see what might be found. As I quizzed Mr Bugg on where we had photographed various species on previous visits, we examined the area where we’d spotted the small Carolina mantis, not really expecting to find it again but not completely ruling it out either. The joke was on us, however: there was no mantis to be seen on or near those plants. It had moved across the raised boardwalk to a stand of weeds on the other side, at least three meters distant.

Carolina mantis Stagmomantis carolina peeking among dried flowers
As you can tell from the linked images taken three weeks earlier, this is quite a small specimen, and I consider it likely to be the same one. This time around it was on a plant well off the boardwalk where we weren’t permitted to walk, so it had to be shot from a short distance; this is a tighter crop from the original frame. Carolina mantises (Stagmomantis carolina) are smaller than Chinese mantises, but this one was less than half adult size, curiously still a juvenile this late in the year. It’s possible the weather was responsible for this, since the other mantids that I’d photographed hatching in the spring were late too, but it’s safe to say that this one doesn’t stand a chance of mating.

More surprising was another find, this one on a stand of pitcher plants in a cultivated planter. I’d spotted the thin legs sticking out, not at all like the plants in the vicinity, and this anachronism caused me to look closer and move around to a better angle. Remember what I said about patterns?

pregnant Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis on pitcher plant
The surprise wasn’t so much finding another mantis, but finding one so obviously pregnant; I would have thought they’d all have created their egg sacs by now. The last one I’d seen, in fact, had been quite close to this location, and also pregnant, but that was six weeks earlier. This Chinese mantis (Tenodera sinensis) was many times the length and mass of the Carolina mantis, probably measuring only slightly shorter than my hand, and was well aware of my presence as I leaned in at the edge of the planter to do my portrait shot.

portrait of Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis on pitcher plant, showing damaged eye
As you might have noticed, both mantids were sporting truncated antennae, likely evidence of close encounters with either predators or feisty prey, and this one also shows damage to the compound eye. What’s subtler, but quite important, is that I framed the head against the bright plant behind it to make it stand out better, and I’ll be talking about this in an upcoming podcast. Little tricks, little tricks…

I have to speculate on the position of the mantis here, since such plants are not good choices to attach an egg case to, seeming to indicate that the event wasn’t imminent. But it was – at least a little earlier in the season – a good place to find prey, leading me to believe that the mantis was more in feeding mode. They don’t last long after laying their eggs, but she really didn’t have a lot of time to get to this before the colder weather would do her in, so the timing was getting crucial.

Had she moved less than a meter away, though, she might have found an easy meal, since the pitcher plants also sported another occupant.

eastern carpenter bee Xylocopa virginica under overhang of pitcher plant
I’m going to go ahead and call this an eastern carpenter bee (Xylocopa virginica,) since the eye color is right and I think I see a hint of that telltale white facial spot. This one was just perched there as if still struggling with low temperature torpor despite this being late afternoon. You likely know that pitcher plants trap small insects by attracting them into the slippery tube with enticing aroma, but the chances are the carpenter bee wasn’t in any danger, since the prey species are usually much smaller. At least one species of wasp even seems to place its larvae within the pitchers which are then plugged with leaves, and the emerging adults make their escape by chewing a hole in the side; I’ve seen these holes and the plugging behavior, so I think this is what’s happening, anyway.

And finally, the image I hinted at earlier, actually the first decent capture from the day. As we were following the path alongside the channel in Mason Farm, I spotted a small heron staring intently into the water. Keep in mind the distance was six meters at the most when we came into view, almost head-on with the heron, and we stopped dead and shot a few frames each as we watched for any movement. Eventually, we started moving forward a bit and could get a side view, narrowing the distance down to three meters, while the heron didn’t move a muscle, not a twitch. It was almost disturbing, and I vaguely suspected someone had placed a decoy, but it would have been the most intricately and accurately detailed decoy I’d ever seen in my life.

juvenile great blue heron Ardea herodias hunting in channel with attendant reflection
I also, for more than a few moments, thought it might have been a tricolor heron, which just aren’t found in this area; it was the right size and the coloration seemed more like that than anything else. Eventually, it struck at its prey and missed, whereupon it demonstrated that it was quite cognizant of our presence (we were impossible to miss, really, being in plain sight and still conversing in whispers three meters away,) by stalking off away from the channel. As it stood up and displayed it plumage in more natural position, it became clear it was a juvenile great blue heron (Ardea herodias,) but half the size of an adult and lacking some of the classic coloration. I decided on this particular frame, however, because I’d shifted position enough to capture the reflection of the face and eye in the water; had you caught that before I mentioned it? That was the best I could do in the circumstances, and not half as distinctive as the shot of the real tricolor heron in the masthead image, but hey, still better than nothing. And a pretty good day overall, I’d say.

Just because, part 21

I’ve got several things in the works right now, but I’m not sure when I’ll finish any of them, so for now, a grab shot from just over a month ago, when the nights had turned dewy.

dew-covered spiderweb resembling sailing ship
I have no idea what kind of spider spins this web, but I’ve seen this many times before, often of varying sizes. I’m always taken by the impression of a sailing ship, or schooner or something – boats are not my forté. There are always two distinct ‘structures’ to the webs, with a tighter and denser ‘hull’ below, often favoring one side with a prow-like protrusion instead of being symmetrical or random, and the upper ‘rigging’ section without masts or sails but still conveying that idea. Maybe it’s just me…

Someday, I’ll have to sit down and examine one closely, first to try and photograph the builder, but then to puzzle out the function of the entire structure – there must be purposes to the two different sections (and possibly more sections that I’ve never discerned.) While I am just fine with the aesthetics of such things, I’ll often find myself pondering the deeper questions after only a few moments of drinking in the visual aspects, noticing how the initial support threads dictate the shapes and recognizing that, despite the haphazard nature of most strands, this isn’t random, but an edifice with specific functions. Does it target certain insects? Does it protect against rain or predators better? Is this, like many other webs among arachnids, a breeding nest instead?

I realize that most of the questions are probably already answered, if I knew where to look – that’s where identifying the occupant(s) would help a lot. But for now, I present only the visual, and my curiosity.

Podcast: Curséd podcast

That’d be a pretty good idea for a U2 song, wouldn’t it? They need to lighten up a bit and deal with more mundane subjects.

Anyway, nothing at all deep with this one, just the trials of doing something that should be relatively simple.

Walkabout podcast – Curséd podcast

Cold weather tips, as mentioned.

Since, as indicated orally, I am getting this recording system refined a little, there should be another podcast along ‘soon’ – the definition of that is up for grabs though, and still depends on me getting the time and conditions right, but at least I know what the topic will be.

The USB mic that I recently purchased and used for this episode, by the way, is the CAD U1 cardioid dynamic microphone – I’d provide a review but I really don’t know what I’m doing and have few other options to compare it to. For my uses, and so far, it seems to be working well. The software is Audacity, an excellent (and almost universally recommended) bit of freeware that makes quality recording and editing pretty damn simple.

No image to go along with this one, sorry – the ones I talked about trying to get really didn’t turn out worth anything at all. Happens to the best of us… on very rare occasions. My best moon shot can be found here, while one of the coolest that I’ve seen is to be found here, and click on it for the larger version – neither is a supermoon, but you couldn’t tell that from the images. Well, okay, you certainly could for mine because it’s not full, but anyway…

Sunday color, revisited

Since I have no idea what I’m doing up this early, I’ll just throw up some colors. I should probably rephrase that…

late autumn leaves against red leaves and sky
On a recent outing, we attempted to find some prime autumn colors in a new location, but discovered that there, at least, they’d changed much earlier, and down along the river’s edge the trees were pretty much bare. So during a quick check in another locale, we could at least create some colorful compositions by being selective again, in this case finding two trees with contrasting colors and layering them against the clear sky. The foreground tree was still in the process of changing (which is what makes the concept of “peak colors” so misleading,) but because of this it was producing a nice variety of hues within a meter, all from the same tree and indeed, the same small branch.

In fact, one could even see a variety of color within just a single leaf. The backlighting helped a bit, of course.

single leaf in transition
Now, I would have liked to have gotten an image without the shadow on the right side, and tried. But in order to get it, I had to wait for the breeze to shift the surrounding branches in an appropriate way, and when they did, they also shifted the target leaf out of focus. Obviously, focus was a critical aspect of this particular shot.

It was also critical to the next one, though the effect didn’t quite meet my expectations.

green leaves against other colors
The idea was to have the green foreground leaves in sharp focus with all of the background leaves soft, but the situation wasn’t quite right for it. Here’s a little trick to achieving that. If your foreground subject is well inside the halfway point between your camera and the background (in other words, closer to you than it is to the background,) then you have a much better chance of getting good ‘focus isolation’ with a large aperture. In this case, cropped a little from the original, the green subject leaves were just a little too distant, and even f4 couldn’t blur out the background leaves enough. Ah, well, maybe later.

As I type this, we have frost conditions outside but it’s still quite dark, and about the time the light should be getting ideal, I have to be someplace. I might have a small window to work with, so maybe something will appear later, but there will still be plenty of opportunities to chase compositions of that nature later on. We’ll just see what happens.

Spot the frog, again

green treefrog Hyla cinerea not hiding very well in Japanese maple tree
Okay, I don’t suppose that one was very difficult at all. Camouflage works a lot better if it’s the same hue as the background…

So let me fill you in on what’s been going on. Aside from being busy with other projects, largely car repairs, I’ve been trying to get to another podcast. But I haven’t been very happy with my audio quality, which adds a bit of time with post-processing, and have been considering other options. One that I stumbled upon was rather intriguing: I had this cheap little audio recorder that I got mostly for notes and sound bites while out in the field, but I didn’t really consider it podcast quality. I had forgotten that I had a little lapel mic for it, and tried it out the other day. To my surprise, the resulting combination produced much better audio that the rig I’d been using, so I figured, Why not? And went ahead and recorded the next episode.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea hiding in downspoutWhat I had also forgotten was that the recorder has a tendency to simply drop out at times, not even producing a gap or silence but just deleting a section of audio (more than a few seconds at a time) without even a telltale click – just this abrupt jump in the sentence to something later on. That’s kind of hard to deal with, requiring re-recording of at least some sections, and if you’ve never attempted this, matching voice quality and intonations can be pretty hard, especially if you suffer from winter sinus issues. Not really an ideal situation. I am still playing with options, so we’ll see where this leads.

It is also getting to the end of the season for much of anything around here, though I may still snag some fall color images within the next few days. Curiously, a selection of green treefrogs (Hyla cinerea) have been hanging around in various locations within the yard, so I do some portraits from time to time just for the sake of it. The one seen here would spend daylight hours in the truncated downspout, the bottom stub that remained after I rerouted the top part into a rainbarrel, while the one at top would switch perches every couple of days. With the temperatures dropping, I expect them to seek their winter hidey-holes soon, but so far it hasn’t happened.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea in Japanese maple
This is the same frog, same location, and same time as the one that opened the post, so if you compare the two images, you might be able to imagine the challenge in positioning that was required for this face-to-face shot – thankfully the Japanese maple isn’t that tall, but it was still a bit awkward. I’d like to think it was worth the effort, though. It’s actually a stack of two separate frames; in one, the eyes were in sharp focus, and in the other, the eyes slightly out but the nostrils in focus, so I just combined the two. This is what can happen shooting at f4 while on tiptoe, holding leaves out of the way of the camera.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea on potted dracaena grass
Close inspection of the coloration pattern has convinced me that this is the same one, even though two had been seen simultaneously in that maple. This time, it’s on a potted dracaena grass that sat on the front steps, the same plant that sported a tiny wet mantis in this post (it shares the pot with a geranium.) The debris it is coated with came from traipsing through the potting soil with perpetually-damp skin to get to this perch. Since this is a night shot, I used the flash rig at f16, providing a slightly different color rendition than the previous shot (under overcast skies) and a better depth of field. Meanwhile, a pair (at least) of darker-colored specimens, such as the last one from this post, has been seen at varying times around the back of the house, where the one in the downspout resides. To say nothing of the five or so green frogs (not treefrogs) that still reside in the backyard pond. If they’re happy, I’m happy.

Anyway, I’ll get the podcast finished eventually, through one method or another. Keep watching this space.

You see what I want you to see

Granted, that’s true of any photograph, and indeed any blog, but it’s just more fun to sound arrogant sometimes.

A hint of fall colors on University Lake
But what is being demonstrated here is a common trait of autumn colors, and something that can be applied to all photography. This area is unfortunately dominated by longneedle pine trees, which don’t change color and tend to be pretty ugly as trees go – and also tall. So there’s little opportunity for sweeping vistas of fall color, even if the deciduous trees were cooperative enough to all reach peak coloration at the same time, which they are not. What we get are splashes of color here and there, usually set against and among the pines. So to have images that express “autumn” to viewers, around here at least, one has to be selective in their approach. This photo kind of splits the difference: on initial glance it seems to show colors halfway decently, but after a moment it becomes clear that the colorful trees are few, set against the boring ones. Had I framed wider either horizontally or vertically, the few bright trees would have appeared even less imposing.

American sweetgum Liquidambar styraciflua in autumn colorsAnother example is this American sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua) at the same location, a lone tree among a lot of greenery that showed off a patchwork quilt of colors all by itself. A broader landscape shot would only have diminished the impact of the colors and would hardly have expressed “fall” in any significant way, so going in close was necessary to bring the impact of the contrasting colors. The sweetgum, and a couple varieties of maple, seem to be the only species in the area that develop vivid reds before shedding the leaves, but I could be wrong about that – identifying trees has never been my strong point. Mostly, what we see are yellows and browns, so fall colors tend to still be almost monochromatic until we stumble upon one of the more colorful trees.

It’s this kind of thing that almost forces me to select the autumn compositions that I do, but also that it’s a little trite to shoot nothing but landscapes of multi-colored trees; that’s what people expect, and what the vast majority of images from this time of year show. Areas with maples and aspens will always be more dramatic than what is available locally, but there are other ways of expressing the season and providing visual impact than broad landscape shots, and below sits another example. Though this style is enough of a favorite of mine that it is becoming ‘trite’ for me, I’m still please with how the green shoots framed the flame-colored leaf, and how the grey undersides provided a different color element not often seen. This was just a tiny patch of leaves on the surface of a creek, in a quiet area where the water grew still, and I could decide which leaves and how many appeared in the frame.

autumn leaves on water surface
Note, too, that the light conditions helped a bit, being under enough of a forest canopy to be ‘overcast.’ Brighter light would have increased the contrast and might even have bleached out some of the colors in places, but capturing a bit of clear blue sky in the water’s reflection might have made an entirely different composition. Different elements and conditions provide for different styles and effects.

Now we get to some of the critters. Almost all of the images in this post came from two visits to the same area, the one mentioned in the previous post, an old stomping ground of mine (actually, Florida should most be considered my stomping ground, since that’s where I usually encountered fire ants and had to dislodge them from my sandals and feet – maybe I should call Florida my stomping, slapping, and cursing ground.) And there are two traits of wooded trails at this time of year. The first is, the falling leaves are quite capable of obscuring any subtle trail, to the point where finding the path can be difficult and might require some esoteric trail-spotting tricks (such as the slight swales or hollows that come from foot traffic, or the easiest openings through the underbrush that people gravitate towards.)

black rat snake Pantherophis obsoletus in middle of walking trailThe other trait is, such ground cover can make it really hard to spot venomous snakes that have chosen to sprawl where one is walking. This image doesn’t exactly illustrate this, because this one is not at all hard to spot and also isn’t venomous: this is a black rat snake (presently Pantherophis obsoletus) that’s just shy of a meter in length. Paths are slightly more attractive to snakes at this time of year because they often present regions of low grasses or undergrowth and thus more exposed to the sun, which is important to ectothermic species when the nights gets much cooler; sidewalks and asphalt roads are more attractive still. So when it comes to species like copperheads with camouflage coloration, the risk of encountering one rises significantly, which meant I was watching my path very critically, and even more so after this one demonstrated that yes, the potential wasn’t just imaginary.

My subject here was much more cooperative than I imagined it would be. It was mid-afternoon, more than warm enough by this time, and I expected snakes to have all the energy they needed, but this one stayed put as I got the initial picture at right, then slipped slowly around it off the path and came in from the front, trying (as always) for my portrait angle. Very often, this takes some low and awkward positions, and it’s next to impossible to stay ‘clean’ when doing so, but I find the effort to be well worth it. I managed to get quite close to this one before it finally decided I was too threatening and bolted for cover. I’ve seen this kind of behavior when species are surrounded by a lot of open space, where getting into obscuring grasses takes longer and the unconcealed movement might attract predators, but this one could disappear within its own body length, so it was a little surprising. I appreciated the cooperation.

black rat snake Pantherophis obsoletus portrait
That sharp kink in the neck, drawing the head back, is a warning sign, and generally means you should keep clear, but I’ve been bitten by black rat snakes more times than I can count, despite the fact that they’re far from being a species that bites quickly (they’re much more likely to poop on you,) and the bites really are trivial. This one never attempted to strike, it was just suspicious of my slow approach from the front, which often fails to trigger the ‘danger’ signals within their brains. Had I moved faster I likely would have provoked a strike at least, even if just a half-hearted warning jab.

eastern box turtle Terrapene carolina carolina in patch of sunlightThe patch of sunlight certainly helped me spot this next one, which was holding perfectly still well off the trail. It can be easy to find eastern box turtles (Terrapene carolina carolina) at this time of year because they can make a racket, relatively speaking at least, plowing through the dry leaves, but when holding still they’re better camouflaged by those same leaves. The ‘bump on a log’ with its distinctive shadow was enough to gain my attention, and I once again maneuvered around to go in for the portrait shot; the only indication from this one that it even realized I was there was to draw its head back a little when I got very close. Turtles can bite of course, and tend to have much stronger jaws than snakes, but it’s not among their first choices of defense so the risk was nonexistent, especially since I remained out of range.

Before we get to the portrait, I’ll point out a couple of details that are subtly visible here. The repeating pattern on the carapace (back shell) of turtles are evidence of the scutes, essentially something like scales or plates. While interlocked, they grow individually, so each one forms a record of the turtle’s growth very much like tree rings. They’re born with the central portion, in this case marked with a backwards ‘E,’ but each year they add a ring around the outer edge that’s faintly ridged; bigger rings indicate more growth and thus a better year nutrition-wise. Some of those ridges are easily visible with the light angle, close to the turtle’s ‘shoulder,’ but they can also be seen immediately below that in the ‘sunray’ pattern – I can make out at least nine ridges, which means this one was a minimum of nine years old, probably more. One of these days I’ll provide better illustrations of this, but it’s more visible in the photos here.

eastern box turtle Terrapene carolina carolina portrait, with mosquito
Since this one was cooperative too, I was able to go around to the side with better light for the portrait, capturing a mosquito as I did so (just above the dark patch on the face.) The red eyes indicate that this was likely a male, since the females usually have brown eyes; another indication of the gender is the plastron (belly shell) which has a distinctive indent for the males, but I didn’t pick this one up to check. You can see faint evidence of a previous meal though I couldn’t say for sure what; probably mushrooms, given the conditions.

And one last shot, from a slightly different location. While out with the impeccable Mr Bugg, we approached a pond edge slowly because we knew the conditions were right for the little frogs in the area, ones so tiny and well-camouflaged that they’re next to impossible to spot until they’re spooked and jump away. Then, of course, they’ve already been alerted to one’s presence and getting in close for the shot requires a very slow approach. I got lucky with this one, which landed in the top of a small weed and perched there; they’re usually ground-dwellers right at the edge of water, to which they can escape in a bound or two when danger threatens.

cricket frog genus Acris perched in weed stems
This is a cricket frog, genus Acris, but whether a southern or northern variant is hard to say because they can only be distinguished by a stripe on their inner thigh, which we did not see, or their call, which we did not hear. Given the locale, the probability leans towards the northern (Acris crepitans) rather than the southern (A. gryllus.) Some idea of the scale can be gathered from this image, but I can tell you this one was typical in size, about 15mm in body length so, you know, able to perch on your thumb. They blend in so well that, even when you might have seen them jump, it’s easy to miss them once they hold still again, so being sharp-eyed is important.

We’ll have to see how the fall colors develop, and whether I’ll be back with something more dramatic within a few days. You know where to find me.

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