Yeah, I, um…

Al Denelsbeck

So, recently a friend mentioned something about a polar vortex, and it was in the middle of an e-mail exchange that dealt significantly with hexagons. I really don’t pay too much attention to news, TV, or weather reports, and did not know at all that this term applied to the notorious weather we’re having right now.

Instead, I thought he was referring to the massive vortex that sits on Saturn’s north pole, which is hexagonal:

Color-composite Cassini image of Saturn’s northern hexagon (NASA/JPL/SSI/Jason Major)
Color-composite Cassini image of Saturn’s northern hexagon (NASA/JPL/SSI/Jason Major)


It’s an accurate depiction of me, I admit it. I couldn’t tell you how many people have no idea this exists, though I’ve known about it for years. On the other hand, I couldn’t tell you much of anything about current events on this planet. Judge me as you will…

On composition, part 21: Water

Al Denelsbeck

While it may seem that “water” is more of a subject than a compositional tool or element, there are actually so many ways to use it that it begs for greater examination. So let’s dive in sorry – sometimes you can’t resist.

RockFramingThe primary trait is, of course, reflectivity. It can mirror a subject on a lakeshore or provide a duplicate sky behind a subject without having to be aiming upwards. Drops can give sparkles of sunlight even off of the tiniest of subjects. It can even provide cool double-exposure effects when the reflection still allows some transparency to reveal what lies beneath. Too often, we’re so used to it that we tune it out as simply water, and fail to see the colors or images it can provide in a photo. Most especially, we often don’t realize that changing our viewing angle can produce radically different results.

Then there are the textures. Waves and ripples, drops and mist, often reflecting from multiple angles to show the invisible sky or nearby foliage. The camera can halt the movement of water and create a curious surreal effect; alternately a long shutter speed can let the motion blur into a soft cloudy haze, as in the more common waterfall images.

And we cannot forget the ideas it communicates. Wet surfaces and drops may tell us of recent rains, while dew says, “morning” – the difference between these can be nothing more than semi-overcast lighting versus bright sunlight. The curl of an ocean wave is remarkably evocative, and artistic in itself, but it’s an entirely different message from the glassy surface of a motionless lake. A single drop in the right location can be a focal point or tell a story, and when it turns to ice/snow/frost, it gains a whole new set of connotations.

So, some ideas on using it:

Angle – Reflections and even transparency will change depending on what angle you view the surface, and of course, small changes in position can change what’s being reflected by it, giving a splash of color to offset a subject or reducing the background distractions by reflecting the shadowy foliage. Spotlight reflections from the sun can be placed where needed or avoided entirely.

Texture – Very small ripples provide smooth gradients and less variation in reflections, allowing for a predominant color as desired. High winds and rough water often produce contrasty textures, nearly black and white. When using fast shutter speeds to freeze the action, take several exposures since you never know just what’s been captured. Very long exposures under muted, indirect light like overcast skies or shade (or moonlight!) will produce softer textures as these changes blur together, while doing so in bright sunlight will produce lots of spots and streaks from the momentary sparkles.

Dew – This disappears rapidly under bright sunlight, so seeking images either before full sunrise or in areas of deeper shade provides more time to work. However, sunlight on dew is also a cool effect sometimes – it just means you have to move fast because you may have less than a minute, depending on conditions, to get the shot. Be early, and be ready.

Dew on grape leafBecause dew and raindrops display their surroundings in a semi-globular manner, their affect and appearance often depend on what’s in the roughly 140° spherical arc behind them. Often, this means bright sky and dark foliage, but it may also mean certain dominant colors. Keep this in mind, because shooting angle can change this significantly, and you may find that the scene benefits from contrasty drops, or gets a hint of color from a nearby flower that’s not actually in the frame.

Exposure metering and flash – Water can be tricky. A strong reflection of sunlight in the wrong area of the viewfinder can skew the exposure reading way off the mark. When you see sparkles in the viewfinder, get several meter readings and watch for out the one that is drastically different from the others (a much faster shutter speed or significantly smaller aperture) – that’s the one that got blinded by the light and you don’t want to use. Also, the camera flash can be bounced back into the lens by either a direct angle or significant ripples, and this includes any exposure preflash that your camera may use too, wrecking your exposure reading. Then there’s the simple trait that a wet surface darkens almost any subject, so exposure readings can go in the opposite direction too, trying to bring that darkness back up to the middle tone that camera meters are calibrated for.

Also note here that the wind picking up can alter your exposure reading, by causing a water surface that was mirror-like to break into multiple shapes reflecting sky, sun, or surrounding foliage.

Louisiana Heron ReflectionReflections – Two things of note here. The first is that reflections in water are always darker than the original, so the sky’s colors will be deeper in the lake surface; plan accordingly (if, for instance, you’ve gotten an exposure reading from the surface, and the actual sky is included in the frame too, the sky is likely to go too bright.) Also be aware that focal distance of something reflected in the surface is not to the surface itself, but bouncing off of it all the way to the subject. Focusing on the moon reflected in the surface, as well as rocks or plants alongside, will require a very high depth-of-field and is likely to fall outside the range that can be achieved.

Contrast – Because of both the darkening effect and the increased reflections, as noted above, wet surfaces increase contrast. This can make some colors richer, but it can also produce too much contrast in certain conditions. The nice thing about shooting on rainy days is the overcast provides light that helps control this, but wet surfaces under full sunlight can become very harsh.

Penetration – Shooting subjects that are under water, from above the surface, can sometimes be tricky. Bright sunlight penetrates best, but of course throws those starburst reflections that can get in the way. However, hazy to overcast skies make it nearly impossible to see beneath the surface, since the light coming from all directions means there’s no way to face that doesn’t produce reflections from the surface. A polarizing filter can help a lot, because light reflected from water is polarized and can be reduced or eliminated with such a filter, as long as it’s oriented properly. With just about all of today’s cameras, a circular polarizer is recommended. Another trick is using a shadow (your own does in a pinch) to block the sky from the surface you’re attempting to shoot through, though this does reduce light on your subject as well, and shutter speed may become an issue. Also, be aware that a rippling surface will almost certainly distort everything beneath – we tend to average this out in our minds and ignore the distortion, but the camera will capture one moment and the funhouse mirror effect it produces.

Lens drop flower
Water drops as lenses – This effect, becoming more popular now, is very cool but very demanding. A nice round water drop will act as an inverting lens for subjects behind it, creating a reproduction of the background upside-down and in miniature – very miniature. A macro lens is necessary, and you’re not focusing on the water surface but the apparent distance the drop lens produces – this means the edges of the drop might actually be out of focus while the image within is sharp. And of course, while using a flash (and you should,) the flash needs to be aimed at the background subject and not the drop, which might produce starburst reflections that obscure your subject.

Fog – You don’t need me to tell you how cool fog is. But what I can say is a) fog at night is especially fun to play with, and a few bright lights in the frame will significantly enhance the effect, and b) try to have some nearby areas in mind that would look great in fog, so you know where to go when the conditions strike – this will likely be different between day and night shots. Don’t use flash on or near the camera, because it will bounce from the individual mist droplets and bespeckle your image. Unless you’re selling ‘ghost’ pics to the gullible…

Because of the muted light, you’re likely to want a tripod even for the day shots, especially since fog mostly occurs in early morning. A heavy fog will give you mist drops on surfaces to work with too.

Underwater – This is a highly specialized field, one that I admit I cannot help you with very much. My experience comes from using small, specialized aquariums to photograph aquatic subjects, which is a much more accessible way of doing it than having elaborate underwater camera rigs and diving gear. Some of the same traits apply, however: you will almost always need to be using extra lighting, and at an off angle – this reduces reflections from both suspended sediment and aquarium rear surfaces. Contrast is reduced. The underside of the surface of the water is a brilliant mirror when you can use it. And air bubbles are even more distinct that water drops in their reflectivity. But while we’re here…

Hermit crab in aquarium
Yep, that’s a reflection of me at top
Aquarium photography – I’m touching on this briefly just to provide some quick pointers, but it’s a specialized topic in itself and perhaps I’ll tackle it in detail later on. The biggest point is that unless it’s straight on (perpendicular) to the glass surface, glass bends all light that comes through it; this means ideal sharpness and lowest distortion comes only when shooting straight into the glass. Curved surfaces are especially annoying, since they will present varying distortion and, depending on the curvature and how close you can get, may entirely prevent a sharp image from being captured, even when it seems to look just fine to our eyes (the reason for this is that the lens is much larger than our eyes, capturing the scene from a wider angle – thus more distorted portions – and combining it back down to the image plane.) Lighting of course reflects easily from the glass surface, but so does everything surrounding you, your own clothes, and the camera itself – the goal is to get as close to the glass as possible to prevent this, preferably working with a rubber lenshood pressed right against the surface. I routinely wear a black shirt when visiting public aquariums, and have done all sorts of things to prevent reflections when working at home.

I doubt you could avoid water in your images even if you tried, but hopefully, this provides a few ideas on using it as a strong element (Ha! Oh, the wit…)

Good luck!

CompReflectedTree

But how? Part 12: So mean

Al Denelsbeck

I find that I’ve managed to limit myself by choosing the “But how?” classification for posts of this nature, because not everything that I want to address fits into that question format very well. So just chalk it up to poetic license (or poor planning) when I fudge the structure a little bit, like now, when we examine How come atheists are so mean?

The biggest question, of course, is whether atheists really are mean, or noticeably meaner than, say, religious folk, baristas, or WalMart shoppers – I think it’s safe to say everyone is mean at one time or another. Getting an objective measure of how mean atheists are as a body would be exceptionally difficult, since ‘mean’ is a value judgment and subjective anyway – we’ll be coming back to this. Plus, since atheism is a standpoint, and has nothing to do with rules of behavior, or member requirements, or temperament or lifestyle or diet or shoe size, there is little likelihood that the trait can shown to exist in any form. By a wide margin, the only time most people even know they’re speaking to an atheist is when the topic of discussion is the less-savory practices of religion; understandably, this is going to skew the impression a bit.

But let’s take this example. Are atheists particularly mean in their approaches within such discussions? There are two ways in which we could demonstrate that this is a potentially warranted conclusion: 1) count up all of the responses from atheists, or at least those considered likely to be atheists, and 2) determine if the majority of the points made by those show an unreasonable amount of animosity. Yeah, that’s likely to be a mess, and again, very subjective, but at the very least this starts carrying us away from noting only the responses that seem most abusive. Far too many people operate on the principle that “I read this nasty comment, and it was by an atheist, therefore atheists are mean.” By that same standard, all YouTube users are vacuous bigots and all online gamers are homophobic – and all religious folk are creationists. Labels are an easy way to avoid the strenuous activity of thinking.

Even then, we won’t have a very good number to work with, because not every atheist even reading the discussions is commenting. By nature, the calmer ones wouldn’t even bother commenting, and perhaps, the nastier ones broke their keyboard in fury before their submission posted. There really isn’t a useful way to obtain a number that will work.

When it comes to forms of media, is it easy to pick out the atheists because of their abrasive attitudes? Are they noticeably more nasty than, for instance, Republicans, or vegans, or feminists, or sports fans? Do the number of epithets, and derogatory terms, and personal attacks, and outright lies from atheists outnumber those from any other classification, those named or otherwise? If we look at what passes for political ‘discourse,’ in this country at least, we see a hell of a lot of petulance, bias, dishonesty, and outright hostility – yet no one is wringing their hands in despair over this state of affairs, are they? I hope I’ve made a point that being mean is remarkably common, which doesn’t excuse such behavior, from atheists or anyone else, but does mean that selecting any one as standing out in this regard falls somewhere between ridiculously biased and laughably naïve.

Very likely, a lot of the impression also has to do with internet memes, and people being influenced by what’s popular – the phrase “shrill and strident” is now a joke among most outspoken atheists after the number of times it has been applied, in total seriousness, to people like Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens, neither of which can even remotely be considered “shrill,” and strident is none too apt either. Curiously, “strident” gets so little use otherwise that its appearance in such discussions is very likely to be just mindless repetition, and a certain number of those using it couldn’t even define it usefully. Just like movie reviews can warp someone’s impression of a film, hearing a pointed descriptive phrase can cause a lot of people to find those qualities above all else; advertisers have known this for well over a century. Repetition plays a part as well, and even a curious trait brought to new heights by online socialization: the bandwagon. Bacon, for instance, is considered fairly tasty by many, but I doubt anyone believes it outranks other foods by such a huge margin that we need bacon soap, bacon breath mints, and bacon-wrapped scallops. Wait, hold on – we do need that last one…

But this gives an indication of something that might be at work (I’m trying to be very objective here, because there’s little doubt in my mind,) and that’s something we could call “defensive hyperbole.” We all get defensive when our viewpoint is challenged, and there’s certainly a tendency to exaggerate the attack, even by considering it an attack in the first place. Simple disagreements turn into arguments quickly, with counter-accusations and personal remarks appearing frequently – people can be notoriously incapable of reading/hearing only what’s been said without ‘reading between the lines.’

A couple of things magnify this defensiveness, as well. Religion is frequently wielded as an indicator of status, an actual label that says, ‘good,’ and when this is questioned in any way, people often consider it a personal affront; if religion is being called bad, then I’m being called bad. Sometimes this really is the message expressed by some particular atheist, but not always, and not often in my experience. As a personal example, I consider creation stories to be entirely mythical, and much of the moral guidance therein to be appalling, but I don’t consider anyone following religion to be automatically bad, just mistaken (to varying degrees too, since no one that I’ve ever seen follows their own religion strictly.) Actions can be bad; people are just people. The other factor that magnifies the defensiveness is the in-group influence – the peculiar idea that if a lot of people believe so-and-so is true, then it must be true, something that a ridiculous number of people fall for. Churches operate on this principle constantly – a church is nothing but an in-group, really – and religions usually make a big show of their presence in countless ways to take advantage of this human trait. So when any religious behavior is questioned or denigrated, the attack is against ‘me and everyone I know,’ as well as openly challenging this method of surety at the root. That’s pretty rude, isn’t it?

Most of this might be considered making excuses, which isn’t the point at all. I’ve seen enough examples of meanness, as well as being so myself, to know it exists. But this doesn’t prove that it’s a defining trait of atheists, and I hope I’m showing that objective examination is what any honest person should engage in. Indeed, in such discussions objectivity has been requested countless times from religious folk, concerned that they were being lumped in with the extremist flakes, so I would think extending the same courtesy would be considered fair.

Let’s take a look at fair, though. The topics of discussion when it comes to religion are often quite contentious: censorship, restrictive legislation, selective and questionable education, bigotry, classism, and even ridiculous medical practices and physical attacks – gay beatings, murder of abortion clinic doctors, beheading infidels – the list is not pretty. If anyone tries to deny religions are deeply involved in all of these, and many more besides, they will not like how strong my response is – it’s the nature not just of disagreement, but of demonstrating how much one disagrees and, to no small extent, how disreputable anyone might be for trying to ignore such behavior. This is part of the social contract; we, all humans, have to define what’s acceptable and what’s not, and there are a lot of ways to define the level of unacceptability. A police officer could kindly, quietly, say, “Put down the weapon, please” – it would be mean to raise their voice, right? C’mon. Tone is as important, if not more so, than content in communication, and there are many levels of disagreement or disapproval. When we look at that list above, they’re all unacceptable, but some much more so than others.

Tied into this is an outright blindness to position-swapping. Many, probably most, religious folk defend their faith as a personal choice – they’re not required to make sense, nor have to convince anyone else, since it’s their prerogative to choose what they want, which is fine, actually; no one could take it away anyway. But none of those behaviors listed above, the ones that arise in discussions regarding religion constantly, are expressions of personal choice in the slightest; they’re expressions of authority, privilege, and elitism, the sudden switch from personal choice to a superiority complex, and the belief that their faith is what everyone else should obey. Parents may consider public school curricula to be damaging to their child, which is an opinion, however misguided, that they’re entitled to. They’re not entitled to dictate what anyone else’s child should or should not receive. They may be openly disgusted over the idea of same-sex marriage, which is fine – don’t get married to the same sex, then. Others have their own opinions, believe it or not – opinions are like that. But when it is pointed out that religious folk have no authority to dictate to others, that there are even laws against trying to peddle such influences, abruptly the position swaps back and the whining starts that someone is trying to take away their personal liberties again. This isn’t any form of reasoned discussion, and does not deserve to be treated as such.

If we examine any action by itself, not associated with any worldview or belief system, it’s often not too hard to view it objectively, judging its value solely on what it accomplishes. But when it is attached to a larger idea as part and parcel, then objectivity often vanishes as it’s absorbed into the attitude towards the entire system. Nobody would ever say, “I let my children play in the street because I’m from Finland” – that makes no particular sense – but people do say, “I won’t provide my child experienced medical attention because it’s against my religion,” and in some places there are laws that permit this, even though it makes no more sense. Very often, religious folk expect a deference to their belief system, as if it’s been established as rational and/or beneficial, so of course pointing out how harmful various practices are is contrasted against this expectation. There’s no reason whatsoever that someone’s personal worldview should be allowed to place a child in mortal jeopardy, but idiots in times past have permitted this kind of nonsense, and now anyone who dares to inject sense into the discussion is somehow being cruel.

And let’s not ignore another simple factor: that accusations of tone or impropriety are often just misdirection; they have nothing to do with the content of the commentary, the points made, or any attempt to address them, and it’s safe to say that a certain percentage of time, it’s purposeful avoidance of a discussion that isn’t going to turn out well. When someone cannot respond usefully to the point, they frequently resort to changing the subject or going on the attack. In fact, if anyone bothers to examine the religious responses to scientific articles that establish evolution, the inaccuracy of scripture, or the abusive standards of particular sects, they’ll rarely see points of rebuttal; instead, by a wide margin, come the protests of impropriety – bookended, of course, by assertive mantras of holy truth. It’s unfortunate when we fall for it, as if criticism is somehow socially unlawful.

Finally, we get down to the comparison, which can be described as nothing short of hulking hypocrisy. Atheism is routinely associated with satanism, nihilism, hedonism, immorality, and a host of other disreputable epithets – issued by no one other than fine, upstanding, kind religious folk. When there is any form of public display regarding even talks by atheists, all the way up to billboards advancing secularism, the vandalism appears almost immediately, imagine that. The sciences, as noted above, routinely come under attack, to the point where pressure is constantly applied not to teach many aspects in schools, even thought they’ve proven their worth far more than any religious text. Legislation to prohibit same-sex marriage is not promoted by mellow, kindly people, and the placards carried by religious demonstrators cannot charitably be called, “pleasant.” Virtually anything that kids find entertaining, from board games to books and movies, routinely receives fierce accusations of heinous content or practices, so much so that I may start a new site highlighting these, since I will never run out of content. And of course, any prominent atheist will receive countless e-mails and letters assuring them that they will be tormented for all eternity. Pointing out that atheists find the concept ludicrous is missing the point; the upstanding souls that make such avowals believe it wholeheartedly, or at least claim to. You’ll pardon me if I dare express my opinion that all this behavior is not just mean, but vindictive and neurotic as well. These are not happy, well-adjusted people – not by any measure. Nor is there anyone leaping in to decry these tactics for the sake of polite discourse.

Is this representative of all religious folk? No. I’m more than happy to maintain an objective attitude and believe that it’s the lunatic fringe, avoiding the application of simplistic labels intended only to strengthen my arguments. And I would hope for the same perspective in return.

The Great Unused of 2013

Al Denelsbeck

I have to admit, I’m really not one for rating things, especially comparatively – top ten lists and all that are not for me. I did it last year, mostly because a prominent blogger would feature any such posts on his own blog as a bit of promotion, so it was blatant opportunism. If you’re here because you found my blog from that link and are still following it, cool, it worked! But my guess is that few people bother to click on such links.

And I usually don’t have “favorites,” at least not anything that lasts very long. Even images that I’m especially pleased with fall out of favor after a while, because I’m too used to seeing them, and so a new favorite will pop up from images that are fresh. This means I’m trying to constantly do something better than I’ve done before, which is a good trait to have, I think (notice that I offer no ruling on whether I’m succeeding or not,) but it also means ranking is out of the question because it changes constantly.

So what we have here, instead, are images that I cropped and sized for blog use sometime in 2013, but somehow never made a post about – I think mostly because I try to rotate out subject matter and I had been doing too many of the same style when these were fresh, and then just moved on. The post title, by the way, also does not attempt to place a value on them, instead using “great” in terms of quantity, and is probably far more similar in usage to “Great Unwashed” or “Great Depression.”

Insect wings alone in spiderweb
This tableau I just came across at some point in the summer, liking the story that it told, and was lucky enough to get the right lighting angle to bring those wings out sharply. There’s a subtle concord of shapes between the wings and the leaves which I liked. That’s all; nothing deep.

Crab spider crouched on leafIt’s hard to do artistic insect photography, or at least for me to do it, though this is an attempt. Most times I aim for detail images, or behavior, and let’s face it, the market for gallery prints of bugs, especially spiders, is rather limited. But I like to believe the position manages to change the spider from menacing to almost-shy, with the leaf dominating the frame and the spider relegated to a corner, as it were – certainly the “ready-to-pounce” posture is almost obscured by this angle. There’s also enough leaf detail to imply scale a bit better than many of my images, conveying that this really is a small specimen.

(Yes, I do know the difference between insects and arachnids and true bugs, and arthropods is the only one that encompasses them all, but it’s still an awkward word, so I’m going ahead with the common usage in the knowledge that no one is confused, even if they’re pedantically offended.)

I’ll take this opportunity, as well as a lot of vertical column space alongside the image, to mention again what position and framing do for an image. It’s not just the simple trait of whether your subject dominates the frame (appearing large and centered) or is minimized among other details, but with any living species, we pay attention to position and implied attitude. A head-on shot of a spider, especially with legs spread to grasp, is about as menacing as you can get, but get outside of this implied ‘target zone’ and suddenly the same posture might seem more protective, almost cowering. Your approach may depend on what you’re trying to show – typical behavior, or something expressive? A nice composition, or identifying characteristics? It never hurts to do a variety of these, to be honest, because you never know what they might eventually be used for.

Assassin bug and molted exoskeleton
This is the first of three images, all using the same subject to illustrate different things. I had a post planned on molting behavior, and more images of this topic will be coming up, but right now we’ll check out this spiny assassin bug, with its recently discarded chitin nearby. When you start paying attention, molted exoskeletons can be found everywhere, but I think most people simply mistake them for “dead bugs.” For the amateur entomologist, however, they can often be a flag that a newly-emerged specimen is lurking someplace nearby.

spiny assassin bug portrait
Now we switch lenses and go in close for detail, because we can. Macro work is usually demanding, but a lot of fun at times. Mostly what it enhances is how much of a world there is at a scale we usually pay no attention to. And while we’re on the subject of scale…

Scale shot of spiny assassin and molted skin against fingertip
… there’s nothing like getting a really solid impression of just how small we’re talking about. It’s one thing to give distinct measurements, or even include a small ruler of some kind, but neither work half as well as something that immediately conveys the size by familiarity. The one big (?) difference between all of these photos is the leaf in the closeup, which is obviously different – I coaxed my subject onto another leaf because the vine was attached to the wall in a position that prevented a portrait shot with adequate lighting.

Unidentified red caterpillars consuming redbud leaf
The redbud tree alongside the porch suddenly sported a horde of newly-hatched caterpillars later in the summer, which tackled the leaf like a line-dance, or a carrier FOD walk if that’s an analogy that works better (probably not.) For some reason the redbud drew a lot of attention this year, but I attempted to transplant it late in the fall because it couldn’t remain where it was, and we’ll have to see if it accepted this in the spring.

Red-headed caterpillars eating redbudAs the caterpillars grew larger, they tackled the leaves in a different manner, making a more noticeable dent in the foliage. Their numbers dwindled, however, likely due to predation but I never witnessed what was responsible; all I know is only a handful made it to chrysalis stage, and I never got to see those hatch out either (this is largely why these images remained in the blog folder unused – I try to build a story when I can.) When you’re this close, by the way, it’s easy to actually watch their progress through the leaf, and after only a few minutes you get the impression they should be stuffed to the gills by now.

I finally searched to determine the species for just this post, by the way: these are likely red-humped caterpillar moths, or maybe that should be red-humped caterpillar moth caterpillars, so let’s just go with Schizura concinna. The adult moth stage is pretty unremarkable, in marked contrast to the coloration of the larvae here. Is that actually aposematic coloration, a ‘keepaway’ warning to predators? Yes, indeed – these little guys can emit formic acid defensively, though this is knowledge gained by reading and not experience. Don’t grab them and you won’t gain this experience yourself.

We take a brief break from creepy things for some scenic pics.

University Lake in autumn
For the post about autumn colors, I had several images lined up to see which fit the best; these two remained behind, forlorn and forgotten.

University Lake at autumn sunrise
Obviously I was only going to use one anyway, but which one? Neither was the case, so they get the consolation prize of appearing now, which is really only an illustration of how humans can anthropomorphize anything. These images are not ‘consoled’ by their appearance here, since they’re far too miffed about being passed over the first time.

Obviously, these were taken from the same vantage point, but here you can see what difference the time of day makes; the latter was taken right at sunrise, or at least, right when the sun was high enough to get over the other trees. While the red light is normally a nice touch to many subjects, here it actually reduced the color response that could be obtained later on in the day. But the mist is nice.

Break’s over; back to yuck.

jumping spider on butterfly bush
While chasing various other subjects on the butterfly bush, I glanced down and found this little jumping spider surreptitiously watching me from a cluster of leaves. Or maybe it was, anyway – insect vision is often very limited in scope, especially for distances, but jumpers are a notable exception because of the specialized eyes they have for hunting. I played around to get the lighting this good, since there were numerous leaves that could throw shadows, as may be apparent. It makes this image a little misleading though, because the spider really was deep in shadow and very subtle, not at all as it seems here. Still, I liked how it came together.

praying mantis molting
We return the the topic of molting. Here one of my resident mantises hangs suspended from its abdomen, feet not touching anything, still attached to the newly-shed exoskeleton. I got several examples of molting this year, but none in a stage earlier than this, with one exception. I’d love to catch it from the very beginning, but this is perhaps very tricky, since arthropods are vulnerable when molting, and likely will not begin the process if there’s any evidence of danger like, oh I dunno, some huge nature photographer looming overhead with a camera and flash rig. This image, meanwhile, shows a little bit of the disconcerting trait of every molt I’ve seen: the emerged insect is significantly larger than the chitin it just popped out of. I honestly don’t know how this works.

Green lynx spider moltingOne of the lynx spiders that I followed all year put on this display one evening, and illustrated a curious trait, which I’ll get to in a minute. Some arachnids, like the fishing spiders, split their exoskeletons horizontally along the sides and flip the top portion out of the way, while the lynx spiders (and mantids) split longitudinally along the ‘spine’ and exit that way. This specimen is also hanging from its abdomen, and both this one and the mantis remained largely motionless for a while, despite the fact that I was obviously nearby; I suppose that it takes time for them to feel confident in the hardness of their new chitin, and in the meantime it is better to be still and not attract attention. But after a while, this one (a female) stretched out and grabbed the network of web strands that only makes a faint appearance in these images, and detached herself from the molted skin.

Green lynx spider emerging from molt
And then she did the curious thing. She went around to each of the legs of the old exoskeleton and worked on the tips by mouth, detaching it from its anchors.

Green lynx spider detaching molted exoskeleton
After a minute or three, she had unhooked all of the supports and dropped the chitin out of sight, the only species I’ve known that did this, though many others might and I simply never find the results.

Newly molted green lynx spider
My best guess is that the lynx spiders rely on their camouflage for both protection and hunting, especially a juvenile like this one, and the stark white exoskeleton is too capable of attracting attention. Or maybe it’s just embarrassed by it; last season’s fashions and all that.

Belted kingfisher on dead treeAnother break, a belted kingfisher (Megaceryle alcyon) perched conspicuously on a dead snag. This was taken while we were on Jekyll Island, and narrowly missed fitting into that post – I wanted to, but then I have to try and fill up all this space alongside without going “blah, blah, blah, blah,” and sometimes it’s hard to remain topical.

When you’re standing in any public area and pointing a long lens at something, people always look to see what you’re photographing. I’m amazed sometimes at how long it takes people to actually spot my subjects though, like this time; granted, the kingfisher was significantly farther away than this image makes it seem, but c’mon, it’s at the top of the tree and silhouetted against the sky!

I like kingfishers, and see them often, but have yet to get the really snazzy photo of one that I want. They’re shy birds, typically spooking when anyone gets close and leaving with a raucous, chittering cry that invariably tells me I’m too late to set up a shot. Many years ago I was standing in shallows on the edge of a river, moving little while doing long exposures of running water, when one came and perched directly overhead, not four meters away. I knew it was probably futile, but I tried to ever-so-slowly detach the camera from the tripod and aim up at the bird, knowing that any indication of danger would cause it to flee. To my credit, I actually got the camera free, but the bird spooked before I could bring it to my eye; I’ve always suspected it was doing this from pure sadism.

Back to the spiders (speaking of sadism…)

Acacesia hamata
While this looks like a great advertisement for moisturizing cream (okay, maybe not,) those lines on the abdomen are not fissures at all, or indicative of an imminent molt, but mostly coloration. This is a juvenile Acacesia hamata, a type of orb weaver, in defensive posture. It will remain like this most of the day, to emerge at night and create a classic round orb web to catch nocturnal insects. The legs serve as both protection and camouflage, disguising the shape of the body to make it resemble an emerging bud, assisted by the spider’s habit of nestling at the base of leaves. I watched this one for weeks before it vanished, sometimes managing to get images of it in the center of its web at night. It’s the next pic that gives the best impression, however.

Acacesia hamata scale
Aside from showing the size of the spider, this illustrates a habit that I try to encourage, which is being able to spot that which doesn’t belong. While the spider resembles a bud, azalea bushes do not sprout new leaves in this manner, so the tan shape is something that Doesn’t Belong, and thus deserves more attention. Any form of nature photography benefits from this kind of observation, but macro and arthropod photography especially so.

I was directly, though inadvertently, responsible for this next meal:

Florinda coccinea and prey
One dewy morning, I was setting down my ground pad to photograph this Florinda coccinea spider, and spooked the leafhopper nymph directly into the web. Florindas are sheetweb spiders, making a horizontal fabric of webbing among blades of grass, and often are not seen at all until the dew arrives to highlight the web. The dewdrop adhering to its head is likely obscuring all vision, but this matters little to most web spiders, who detect prey in the web by the vibrations and are capable of finding it by feel. I was lucky to get this angle, because the webs are close to the ground and often obscured at the sides by the supporting grass, but by lying flat on my side and exploiting an opening, I got a clear view. The dewdrop deserves a little closer attention, though.

dewdrop on spider head detail
This is a full-resolution inset of the previous image. Since dewdrops work as lenses but invert the image, the dew-laden sheetweb that the spider hangs from can just be made out at the bottom of the drop. The light patch at the top of the web, however, isn’t showing something under the spider, but is a reflection instead, so not inverted; it’s the softbox panel of the flash I used. And the drop shapes adjacent are dewdrops that the strobe light passed through, projected onto the surface of the drop. The flash is attached to the camera on a bracket and positioned, in this case, off to one side, which kind of shows the gymnastics involved; the lens was right at the very edge of the web, and the flash was actually firing through it (the image has been flipped and cropped from its original sideways orientation.) Another image doesn’t lend much more to the scale, but suffice to say this specimen is no larger than the orb weaver above.

I close with an image that wasn’t sitting in the blog folder, and despite my protests at the beginning of this post, serves as a favorite from the year. I always have one of my photos as a computer desktop background image, and this tends to rotate a few times a year as I select a better one. This one, however, has been up for months and will likely remain for a while; if it doesn’t, well, that’s just an indication that I got something better. Back on the butterfly bush, one of the mantises poses seductively, and the dark eyes indicate that this was taken at night. To the best of my knowledge, this is the one that produced the only egg sac that I know of, but either way, I like the shot – lovely detail from the face and foreleg, nice color throughout. I’ll be sure to show it to her kids when they arrive.

Chinese mantis on butterfly bush

Having my fun

Al Denelsbeck

And, I admit, showing off at the same time.

First off, I never expected to be away from the blog so long, but it’s been a surprisingly busy several days, coupled with a minor digestive ailment which tended to sap my creativity. “Okay,” you’re thinking, “but what does that have to do with your writing or photography?” Don’t lie to me; I know that went through your head.

Green sea turtle spare tire coverAnyway, a few years ago I had hand-painted a green sea turtle onto a vinyl spare tire cover for The Girlfriend, who is a sea turtle enthusiast. Ostensibly it was a christmas present, but it ended up taking longer than I wanted so she didn’t get it until later. She was not at all displeased over this, however, and has been ensuring that it stays in good condition as long as possible.

This year, The Girlfriend’s Younger Sprog recently bought her first car, and got the same model as her mother – this made my christmas decisions a little easier. She’s a Doctor Who fan and has been planning the personalization of this car since before she bought it, plus the car is bright blue, so naturally there had to be a TARDIS on the cover.

I had to do all the work on this while she was out of the house, and of course during good weather since I had to work outside – this, by the way, was the primary reason I needed the airbrush cup. It took a few weeks, not from labor but just from finding the right times, but I finished plenty early.

TARDIS spare tire coverOn christmas morning, I sneaked out and mounted the tire cover on her vehicle, then when gift exchange came around, I presented her with a card which hinted vaguely that she should be looking at the spare tire. As we went outside, it was apparent the moment she spotted the cover, from the sudden exclamation, and even more gratifying when she ran her fingers across it and asked incredulously, “You painted this?” I think she’s pleased with it.

I was smart enough (or egotistical enough – your call) to document the progress, and made a webpage detailing the whole painting process. I’m not talented enough to do something like this from scratch, and copied the design from an image brazenly stolen from the web (for which I have indeed tried to establish the original artist, with no luck as yet.) But if you have the interest, the whole project can be found on a dedicated hand-painted TARDIS tire cover page. Most of the work was, in fact, careful masking, and not half as arduous as it might seem at first.

On to The Girlfriend. A couple of years ago was the saga of the stray kittens, and two of those remained with us. The Girlfriend had never had cats and didn’t consider herself a cat person, which makes it all the more amusing to watch her carrying around Kaylee like an infant, including rocking her – Kaylee, for her part, actually enjoys this and does not get motion sickness at all. So I decided The Girlfriend needed a cat sculpture this year; in a previous year she’d received a newly-hatched sea turtle and a manatee, both carved from soapstone.

This was was presented as a gift much the same way, with a card hinting at where to look – in this case, it was “Find Kaylee,” which was a little misleading since she was winding around our feet at the time. But The Girlfriend took the hint and began searching the various favorite haunts of her cat, soon finding the sculpture nestled in its own nest on the bed where Kaylee often curls up. There was no mistaking her delight in the piece.

MonkeyChunk3This project actually went a lot smoother than I anticipated. I had a cylinder of white soapstone that I received as a present myself some years back, and the color and shape lent itself to the idea, since cats curl up into balls anyway and tend to mold themselves to their surroundings. I located a couple of images as a guide and sketched out the rough shape, and somehow managed to keep the proportions correct throughout the work (the biggest exception was the left foreleg, which was a little large at first.) Pieces like this are difficult to photograph well enough to see all the details at once – they usually benefit from being able to be turned in the light so the shadows fall differently – but I think you can still faintly make out the curl of the “fists” that marks a happy cat, something Kaylee does frequently and The Girlfriend finds adorable.

This one also had to be done while The Girlfriend was away, plus putting away all the tools and cleaning up every last trace of the work, which usually consists of small chips and fine white powder all over everything after being hurled there by the Dremel power tool (which are wonderful things, I think I’ve said before.) Definitely something you want to do outside, someplace that can still be cleaned up easily. Soapstone is easy to work with, but this also means it’s easy to make a mistake with as well – one slip of the power tool or detail knife can produce a gouge that has to be eradicated somehow, so while soft materials can save a lot of time and effort, there’s a tradeoff like everything. I finished the piece by wet-sanding with 400 and 600 grit sandpapers to produce a lovely smooth texture, and did a light treatment with mineral oil to bring out the stone’s translucency. Now I’m ready to graduate to marble! (Yeah, right.)

Kaylee curled asleepA little later the same day, Kaylee made a spirited attempt to mimic her likeness on the bed, almost exactly where I’d placed the gift earlier – she often covers her nose with her paw, and that was a detail I knew I had to include. She wasn’t cooperative enough to pose like this before I started work on the piece, so I had to cheat and again work from images gathered online.

The rest of the time since then was spent in scattered ways, everything from helping design cards for a major game project (not mine) to moving a greenhouse (not ours,) celebrating a birthday in there (not mine,) and repairing a computer (mine). Hard as it might be to believe, I barely lifted the camera at all in the past ten days, which just isn’t right at all. I’ll see what I can do pretty soon.

What hump?

Al Denelsbeck

Today marks the day we’ve all been waiting for, and by “we” I mean those of us in the northern hemisphere who don’t like the axial tilt of the planet. Yes, today is the day the days no longer day get shorter; from here on out the days will be getting longer. No, that’s not true at all, the days are the same length as always – it’s simply that the time period of the sunlit portions will be increasing over the non-sunlit portions. Dance in the streets, it’s the winter solstice!

It’s also the first day of winter, which shows that things just aren’t as orderly as a mathematician would have planned, since the solstice should fall in the middle of the season, shouldn’t it? Or there be no such thing in the first place. But anyway, this encroaching season is apparent right now by it being 20°c (70°f) outside as I type this. Brrr!

Green lynx spider on rosemaryAnyway, in days gone by I’ve recognized this barely-noticeable event by going back to see what I was photographing during the summer solstice, finding that I had no digital images (the only ones with dependable date stamps) from those particular days anyway – I don’t take photos every day, though some people I know have a hard time believing this. So this time around, I just decided to see what I could find today.

At left, one of the green lynx spider pups (Peucetia viridans) that I’ve been keeping an eye on, this one on the rosemary again, one of many. This is pretty much how they’re found every time, since this isn’t the season for huge amounts of activity; apparently they plod through the winter on little sustenance, perhaps whittling away at their stores of fly jerky.

But before long I discovered an old friend, if by friend you think of a species that has bitten both The Girlfriend and I for no good reason (you tend to make definitions work for you when you’re desperate.) Along a fencepost wandered an animated patch of lichen, and astute naturalist that I am, I can inform you that lichen is not particularly known for perambulation in the absence of gravitationally-animated stones. Therefore, something was up under the surface. With the skill of long experience, I captured it without harm to it or myself, though at times this was touch-and-go, and brought it in to photograph in a little more control on a sprig of cypress.

GathersNoStone
Having cats in the house, hairs frequently have to be removed from macro scenes, but in this case they’re part of the insect’s handiwork. Tarsiwork. Whatever. This is the larva of some species of green lacewing fly, family Chrysopidae, which camouflages itself with whatever debris it can find and forages as a ambulatory junkheap, much like some cars I have driven. The actual material used is not always moss – most times I’ve seen molted exoskeletons from other species, sometimes leaf litter, and in one case an artfully posed dead ant (this was probably a Viking subspecies.) Getting a good look at the insect itself takes particular angles and a bit of luck and/or patience. Below my model peeks out from under its mask, perhaps hoping for a kiss from Mary Jane (no, that’s not a drug reference, but a Spider-Man one… look, just… never mind.)

lacewing peering out
lacewing undersideThese insects were the subject of my first “Too cool” post, and I’ve encountered them many times since. If you look closely at the above image, against the bright green leaf to the right of the head, you’ll see a few threads poking out from under the toupee, and these are actually part of the anatomy, also vaguely visible in the image at right, sprouting from a stalk at its shoulder. Also visible is the high-contrast coloration, which has me puzzled, since the insect goes to great effort to completely cover this. Perhaps it is useful at some other point in the life cycle, or maybe it’s just vestigial remnants from previous species on the evolutionary tree; other current species of lacewing do not actively disguise themselves at all, and some have mottled patterns while others hide in sand traps as ant lion larva and remain unseen for most of their juvenile stage. Or maybe, and I wonder if this idea has been carefully considered by entomologists, the coloration is the reason why lacewing nymphs cover themselves with debris, like teenagers who wear a heavy coat to try and conceal the ugly sweater from grandma that they’re made to wear. It’s the right age, after all – this could be the insects’ Grunge Phase. I think I’m onto something here.

Some time back, both out of curiosity and for a presentation I was working on, I TSA’d another that I’d found and got some images in all its naked g[l]ory, showing off the elaborate structures it grows solely, I believe, to support this camouflage. You should appreciate this (money’s fine,) since these insects are perhaps 6mm long and the appendages are delicate, so removing the debris took careful work with some small tools. The things a nature photographer does…

lacewing without camouflage
The camouflage isn’t so much a mystery now at all, is it? I’d cover up too if I looked like that, instead of being the devastatingly handsome specimen that I am. A suspicion is growing, and I now want to go back and see if there’s any evidence of this species existing before we started nuclear testing. Though neither The Girlfriend or I have displayed any superpowers since being bitten, so maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree. Interesting, though, is considering this from an evolutionary standpoint, since these appendages are pretty specialized and need to be augmented by behavior as well, to actually place the camouflage, while it seems much easier to just evolve protective coloration like most species do. Then again, the teenager hypothesis gains another point in its favor, since they always have to do things the hard way…

And while this wasn’t the original intention, this image goes nicely with the post title as an additional meaning – I’m clever as well as stunning. It’s homage, of course, to Young Frankenstein. But you already knew that – people so lacking in class as to be unfamiliar with every line from that film surely wouldn’t be visiting this site…

Odd memories, part 12

Al Denelsbeck

christmas lights & wine bottleSpurred on by this post from The Bloggess, who is a delightfully warped person, I dredged up some memories of christmases past. Part of the reason I don’t put a lot of effort into holidays is not, as some clueless people seem to think, from being an atheist, but from growing up in my family. Holidays tended to be overly tense affairs from the belief that things should be traditional, or include certain dishes at mealtime, and should be perfect, and all that hoohah – no small number of people will recognize this, I’m sure. Think of the bride and her mother on the wedding day, then dial it back a bit.

It did not help that my mother, who carried approximately a kilogram of pure uncut coupons in her purse at all times, could not write down christmas lists and carry them with her when shopping, and her memory is of the ‘broad category’ type. My brother wanted a model kit of a Datsun 280Z one year (this was a while ago) and received a Porsche 924 instead – they both had numbers, and that was how she had remembered. I soon learned to take her around the stores and point to exactly what I wanted, which largely worked, but I still got unwanted Atari cartridges because, “I knew you wanted a racing game,” which was true, but a specific racing game. Ah well.

She compounded this as well, in never making a list for herself and almost always claiming she didn’t need anything, making shopping for her a monumental chore (she still does this, by the way.) I was, however, responsible for contributing to her own bitterness over the holidays once. That year, there was a particular perfume she wanted, a rarity, since she generally did not like perfumes. It was called “Lily of the Valley,” and she told me exactly where it could be found – just inside the door of a particular drugstore, with white lilies all over the box. Thus armed, I set out and got her present. Come christmas morning, however, it was revealed that I had gotten the wrong one, disappointing her greatly, especially since she’d been so specific.

Now, in my defense, I had (and have) no idea what a lily looks like, and the display featured not a word or name of the perfume at all – but it sat covered with white flowers just inside the door of the goddamn drugstore. Between her sighting and my shopping, perhaps about a week, the staff had switched displays, I can only assume on purpose. It also must be said that when my mother returned, the perfume was nowhere to be found in the store anyway.

Various places that I’ve worked since then have done the Secret Santa thing, generally an ill-advised system anywhere. Depending on the size and how busy the workplace is, one often has no opportunity to find out what anyone might want for christmas, and rarely ever socializes with coworkers outside of the workplace; if you have it differently, lucky you – don’t believe it’s like that everywhere. On occasion I would have an idea what someone might want, but did not ever draw their name, so that never worked out. I have always been in administration, so my coworkers tended to think I wanted office supplies, despite the fact that I frequently had my camera with me…

One year, when I drew one woman’s name, I recruited another worker to find out what she actually wanted. This worked well; I was told about a particular little blown glass elephant, with a blown glass mouse inside, and exactly where it could be found locally. The other bit of info I received was helpful too: It seems each year my giftee had received a candle during the Secret Santa fol-de-rol (see what I mean?) and had remarked on this curious trait.

At the same time, another coworker, who had briefly been an actress, had let it slip that she’d been in a movie with Chuck Norris, but refused to reveal which one – this tidbit had come about because my giftee had house-sat recently for the actress and had seen an autographed photo of Norris with the actress. Naturally, such secrets are fed on ravenously in most workplaces, and a quest began to determine which movie she’d been in.

“I know it was a western-style movie,” said my giftee while trying to pump the actress for more info, “because he was wearing a cowboy hat.”

I snorted. “I don’t think that means much, since he wears a cowboy hat in every movie,” I said. “I think he was wearing one in Invasion USA, which took place in Florida.” It was one of the few Chuck Norris movies I’d seen, and mostly regretted.

Credit to the actress and her skills, because she didn’t bat an eye at this, and I’d been watching. Once she was gone, several workers announced their intention to find out which movie, plotting delightedly. This was in the very early days of the internet, and few people had access, or indeed a computer. I just picked up the phone and called my cousin in his comp sci graduate office. In less than a minute, the Internet Movie Database had confirmed that our coworker had indeed been in Invasion USA. With christmas rolling around, it was imperative that we locate a copy of the VHS tape to rent.

This proved to be harder than imagined – most video stores had discarded the cassette long ago. Finally, through a confederacy of conspirators, we located the movie, and I sat down with it the day of the christmas party to find her appearance in the film. Fast-forwarding through Invasion USA doesn’t make it any better, and I went through the movie twice before finding her fifteen seconds – there was a horrifying moment when I suspected she was one of the topless dancers in a bar, but then found her part, cued up the tape, and took it with me to the party.

In the meantime, I’d been busy on my Secret Santa thing as well. Going to a cheap drugstore, I located the cheesiest damn christmas candle I could find, this ugly little spherical thing badly made up to look like Santa Claus. I dutifully wrapped and tagged this, but also placed the blown-glass elephant in a plain box simply marked “Mystery Box” – I had given up cursive decades before, but used it (slowly and ineptly) to mark the box so my handwriting would not be recognized. Once at the party, I sneaked this onto the gift table so no one would see who brought it.

When the exchange came around, my giftee had the greatest “I told you so” look on her face when she unwrapped the candle, showing it to my informant wryly. Then she saw the attached tag, which said that she could exchange the candle for the Mystery Box. What was completely unexpected was how bad she dithered over this decision, trying to find out who had done this so she could quiz them over the box. Someone eventually clued her in that it was me, and she pleaded with me to know what was there – she was reluctant to give up that ugly candle. I refused to bargain, telling her I was going to have to take one of them back either way (the candle had cost me a dollar, and was way overpriced at that.) She eventually convinced herself to go for the box, and was exceptionally pleased with the elephant, showing it off to everyone. And then turned to me: “But can I still keep the candle?”

After the exchange, the boss (who I’d let in on the plot) announced that we had a special holiday video to watch, and with everyone’s attention, started the tape. People were a little confused, since it started in mid-movie during a car chase, but in literally two seconds our coworker actress recognized the scene and shrieked, covering her face in her hands. This produced a bare second of further confusion before she appeared onscreen to pummel the villain ineffectually, and the place erupted in laughter. You gotta love it when a plot comes to fruition.

Spurred by The Bloggess’ post, I’ve been trying to figure out my best and worst christmas presents, without a lot of luck. But while I’m at it, I have to give credit to my brothers, who had their own fun one christmas eve. I was to receive a GI Joe ‘Secret of the Mummy’s Tomb’ adventure set, featuring the same ATV that would carry Joe facefirst into the couch, and they set the whole thing up on the edge of the couch (foreshadowing or something) in full action pose, winching the mummy up over the edge. It was, in fact, this set:

There was also one christmas, at the time when I was no longer waking up in excitement at that hour, that Santa himself, jollier than anyone should be at 2 AM, woke us all up and herded us downstairs to receive our presents. Almost all of us, anyway – my brother couldn’t be convinced, but he was likely hungover (I was probably 16, my brother 23 at this point, and mind you I was the youngest.) Also, curiously, my dad didn’t come down either until, with dismal timing, a few minutes after Santa left (some of us did indeed wonder why Santa departed upstairs instead of through the door or, you know, up the chimney of the fireplace that was right there.) This is what you get when your dad is asked to play Santa for the office party, and is permitted to borrow the costume afterward…

Many years later, having moved out-of-state and finding myself with a significant amount of money come christmastime, I deigned to a) fly home during the holiday season, and b) go north in the winter – I said I had money, not sense. While shopping for gifts with my mom, I selected a particular board game for my two young nieces, one that my mother argued would be too young for them. It was called Splat!, and was your typical game where you roll dice, draw cards, race your Play-Doh insect playing pieces to the finish line, and occasionally stomp the hell out of the pieces with a giant plastic hand (that left them squished out broadly with the game’s logo impressed upon them.) When this happened to you, you scraped up your Play-Doh from the playing board, reincarnated your bug in the mold while uttering a little hindu prayer, and started again from the beginning. As might already be apparent from other posts, I have never fully grown up, and I suspected this would be an interesting game.

Now, those of you who have played Uno among family members are well aware of what I’m talking about, when I say that there are games that provoke a lot of ire without anyone really getting upset – that plastic hand was the same as a well-timed ‘Draw Four’ card. Almost frightening was my then-brother-in-law, the girls’ father, who demonstrated his conscientious role-model attitude by wielding that hand with unholy glee every time the game play selected him – this was later to reappear in his daughters’ therapy. He had also, in his delicate youth, learned how to roll dice, something I’d discovered earlier during AD&D sessions. So when it finally came time for us to raise plastic hand over his own playing piece, the Play-Doh smears went across most of the board and occasionally a good stretch of table. If my mother still has that table, I’m willing to bet a close inspection will reveal evidence of that christmas afternoon tournament 20 years ago…

I’m guessing that the worst present I received was a book from my parents, What Color is Your Parachute?, about finding a career. Gifts from unobservant coworkers are at least somewhat expected, but messages of that nature should probably be left for some other time, you know? Meanwhile, one of the unintentionally funniest gifts was from The Girlfriend, who had located a speaking South Park stein for me – press the button and hear a bit of wisdom from Eric Cartman. She’s never been good at interpreting Cartman’s speech, especially from the early days, and even when she gave it to me still didn’t know the gift was emitting, “I’m not fat – I’m big-boned!”
Sound clip courtesy of Hark.com 
The stein, it must be said, was stuffed with Almond Joy candy bars…

Best gift? I have to admit christmas almost always makes me think of the Millennium Falcon model kit I got one year – it’s the kind of thing you hope for, big and cool, coming at an age when you can appreciate it most because you’ll never be able to buy it for yourself. It was the original issue that came with lights, and I did that bad boy justice, not just painting it in detail but adding battle damage and a plethora of fiber-optics (scrounged from one of those color-changing hippie lamps that had just fallen from popularity) to add running lights in various locations as well.

Yet, The Girlfriend is someone who gift shops at least half of the year, and is very good about noting when someone wants/needs something; at the same time, she can spot clever, interesting, or novelty gifts. So item for item, she’s got everyone beat by a mile. I try, but I don’t have the same knack. We’ll see, however, how well I did this year.

Anyway, kick back, go mellow, let the rants from neurotic relatives wash over you if you have to, and remember what the holidays are, truly, all about:

Weird stories.

Stupid atheists

Al Denelsbeck

Jon Rosenberg at Scenes From A Multiverse is picking at scabs (click for complete version):
SFAMThe-Good-Pope
This… is totes uncalled for! Atheists are level-headed, fair, well-adjusted individuals, and none of them would ever get cranky because a favorite whipping boy turned respectable.

Good thing he hasn’t, then…

Actually, and it’s stupid that I even have to say this yet it’ll be news to some, but atheists are as varied as any other group (except Apple users,) and while I haven’t actually seen an example of this behavior myself, I’m sure it exists. Others, meanwhile, are pleased that the new pope is much more mellow than the previous one, and still others (ahem) shrug and don’t really care, since the whole edifice is one huge joke. But I’d love to hear some of the e-mails of protest Rosenberg receives anyway.

If you’re not going to Scenes From A Multiverse regularly, I am most disappointed in you, because I’ve directed you there before and now I know you’re mocking me like a rebellious teen (which is redundant, true.) It’s like Family Circus Without Family Circus, which is to say nothing at all like Family Circus – Rosenberg is actually clever and original, and puts a lot of effort into his drawing. Even when he stoops to cheap shots…

Too cool, part 21

Al Denelsbeck

Unicorn Reentry
So, what is it?

I’ve had this experiment in the back of my head for a while now, and tried it last night. What you’re seeing here is Sirius, otherwise known as the Dog Star or the Dog’s Nose, and the brightest star in the sky. As a quick aside, for some reason many people think Polaris, or the North Star, is supposed to be the brightest, which would be handy but is far from the case. Also, there are brighter things in the sky at night, but they’re not stars. This distinction sometimes annoys people, but it’s worth noting, because planets are much closer and move separately from the starfield, so are in different positions each night – in fact, they change position throughout.

Part of the reason Sirius looks like this is because I panned the camera on the tripod during the one-second exposure – you can see where it began on the right side, and also that the panning was not Hollywood smooth. But the other reason is much cooler, because you’re looking at ‘twinkling.’ It really is this distinct and this fast.

Astronomers refer to this as seeing – no, this doesn’t mean just looking at something, but the atmospheric conditions that may degrade the ability to, um, see a stellar object; “the seeing is particular bad tonight.” Seriously, astronomers, get another word, it’ll save confusion – I’ll make up a few for you if you like. Because you did this, every time someone wants to talk about astronomy they have to switch to words like “view” and “observe” to avoid confusion with the technical term. Sheesh.

Now, if you (the rest of my readers, all two of them) used the term scintillation, I can’t blame you – I did too, initially, but technically, this only refers to changes in luminance (which is indeed visible here) but not to the diffraction effect that produces all the colors. Or so some sources say; it appears numerous astronomers use it to mean the color change as well, so chances are you’re not going to look like a boob if you use it this way.

What’s fun is, there’s a lot of disagreement on what’s actually happening. They all agree that it’s the air, specifically different densities and the turbulence between layers. However, some sources, including Wikipedia, state that the atmosphere splits the light into separate wavelengths from diffraction, like a prism does, but the brightness change comes from just one rod in our eyes (it should be cone anyway) receiving the light, but it wanders across different rods/cones, shifting position slightly in our eyes. That’s nonsense too, because a camera lens is much wider than a human eye and receives light from its entire front surface, focusing (recombining) it all back down to the single point on the sensor/film – the effect would be averaged out and the twinkle would vanish. We can’t even suppose that this comes from single color pixels in the sensor receiving light and no others, since a) the image is wider than a single pixel, and b) there are a lot more colors than the three in the sensor.

So the diffraction seen here is very real, and falls in a broader area – wider, at least, that the camera front element, which is roughly 73mm. But one effect very likely is due to the camera, and that’s the places where the light simply vanishes. There are two possibilities that come to mind: 1) that the light was simply dimmed or diffused enough to prevent adequate exposure in the tiny fraction of time that area of the sensor was exposed while the camera was panning, or 2) that the diffraction actually passed into the infra-red or ultra-violet which the sensor could not detect. Possibly both, though I lean towards the former because Sirius never seemed to blink out when observing it by eye, and we can’t see IR or UV either. That reasoning, however, is still in question because of the image below.

DontBlinkThis is an LED christmas light, also taken by panning during a one-second exposure. Alternating current causes all lights to blink, and since LEDs don’t use a filament, they go out immediately rather than fading – you cannot detect this visually, but it’s revealed with a simple camera trick. If you try it with a phone camera you’ll probably get something even weirder, but that’s because phone cameras are goofy. Anyway, Sirius really could go completely black to our eyes, if it does it fast enough (see those gaps in the top image again,) and we might never know it.

More than a few UFO reports involve things that change color rapidly, which supposedly are not stars because “they don’t change color that much.” Uh huh. Or, “It was bigger than that.” But go out on a clear night and take a good look – Sirius, Vega, Spica, and others all look larger because they’re significantly brighter – this isn’t something I’m able to demonstrate easily because, in the camera, they will be larger, but that’s due to flare from the lens. And yes, it’s possible that the eye’s lens produces flare too, though this is a little hard to prove (let me remove yours for a few hours and we’ll run some tests.) At some point, I’ll shoot both Venus and Sirius at the same magnification and demonstrate how much larger Venus actually is, even though many observers would say Sirius is at least the same size.

Anyway, it’s a cool effect, and maybe later on I’ll try it with a cluster like Pleiades. In the meantime, I’ll refer you back to a previous ‘Too Cool’ post on the Horsehead Nebula, and a recent Astronomy Picture of the Day which places it in reference to Orion’s Belt and Cellphone – it would have been nice if this was available when I was composing that post.

1 … 253 254 255 256 257 … 318