Chasing megapixels

Source: Hubblesite.org
Source: Hubblesite.org

Some time back, I’d started a post on this subject, partially in response to a thread somewhere, but when I took too long to finish it I realized it was, in webby terms, no longer current, and simply let it go. But after another prompting, this time from The Straight Dope, I decided it’s worth pursuing anyway, and may provide a little insight into the whole digital photography thing.

As mentioned previously, many people are shocked when they hear that some space probe or lander currently making news has a measly two megapixel digital camera in it – “What the hell? I’ve had a twelve megapixel camera for six years!”… closely followed by various speculations on what’s wrong with NASA and so on. And in like vein, many people seem to think that more megapixels equals better camera. As a measuring stick, however, there’s a tremendous amount wrong with this.

Let’s start with resolution. The general idea is the more megapixels, the better detail, and the bigger print. Now, space agencies aren’t in the business of making prints – they’re after details, and it’s not megapixels they need, but resolving power. This is chiefly up to the lens, and as a basic guideline, any digital sensor should be slightly higher in resolving line-pairs-per-millimeter (how resolving power is actually measured) than the lens itself, so the limitation comes only from the lens. This is a subject we’re going to come back to shortly.

Second, we cannot mistake the idea of the typical photographer’s camera, intended to capture an entire scene at once, with a geological or astronomical survey camera, which may take numerous images while orbiting or intercepting any given subject. A 2Mp sensor that takes hundreds of frames during a close pass can produce a stitched composite image of humongous proportions. So it’s not really the size of the sensor, it’s how it’s used.

Also note that consumer cameras, especially SLRs, are largely built around a commonality, originally using many of the same lenses as their film counterparts and usually following some particular frame standard. In fact, many of the limitations of today’s cameras comes from the mirror box, a big open space between lens and sensor that houses the reflex mirror, which sends the view up to the eyepiece or, during exposure, flips out of the way. Lenses must be designed to accommodate this space in front of the sensor, but nothing of the sort is needed for any space probe. Without this design standard, the lens can be as close as necessary to the sensor, and potentially much sharper. There is certainly less attenuation of the incoming light and a lower percentage of chromatic aberration. We’re coming back to that too.

Plus, it all depends on the actual size of the sensor itself. A 2Mp sensor that’s only 5mm square is actually far higher in resolution than most cameras on the market. Megapixels really only tells how many points are captured at a time, and nothing at all about resolution.

Now let’s talk about the limitations of remote photography. Every digital sensor spells mass that has to not only be boosted out of earth’s gravity, but must be manipulated for any given task – orbit, rotation, and even driving across the landscape of Mars. So, the smaller the better. Then there are the power requirements, since the higher the megapixels, the more power drain for each image, and this has to be weighed against the other power demands within the probe/lander, and the ability to obtain more from solar cells or internal generators. Again, lean is good here. And let’s not forget that every image is worthless until it makes it back to earth, which means each little bit of information has to be transmitted a long ways, again at the cost of power.

The sensor does not stand alone, of course, but needs to have circuitry that supports its functions, with all its own operating parameters. The computer that you’re using to read this probably has a plethora of additions to handle the waste heat from the processors, trading power efficiency for functions, but the circuitry on a probe has to be much slicker, and may well define what sensor is going to be used in the first place. And for doing something like orbital surveys, it also needs to maintain a certain processing speed to prevent gaps or the necessity of multiple passes.

Add in the operating environment, which may be extremely hostile to simple electronics and require a certain amount of shielding, as well as temperature regulation. Most digital sensors have a certain susceptibility to noise, or false readings due to stray electron signals, heat, and simple failures within the sensor. While we may be able to spot these easily in our own images, turning up in space pics can be a bad thing, so the housing of the sensor itself must be optimal for its operation, and some sensors may be much better suited for such environments than others.

Which brings us to another resolving issue. The range of ‘light’ (electromagnetic radiation) that is available to be captured is vast, far in excess of any sensor’s capabilities, but some are still going to be better than others. In some conditions, sensitivity to extremely low light is paramount, while in others, the levels of contrast may be important, or heightened sensitivity to infra-red. It doesn’t really matter that the sensor is ‘only’ 2Mp if it’s the only one that will obtain the image needed.

Now that we have this pile of factors in mind, let’s consider that planning the construction of such a probe/lander takes years, with reams of careful calculations about fuel needed to boost it all, insertion times, power distribution, and so on. Once a design is pinned down, changes are almost always a very bad thing, because they’ll have ripple effects throughout the process. Even if a brand new sensor promises to perform better than the original design, incorporating it will require changes to hundreds of different aspects (including budget.) So, by consumer standards the sensors may seem woefully outdated, but in terms of space exploration, what’s important is actually getting it into space and performing some function. Feelings of consumer inadequacy play no part at all (and to be frank, shouldn’t play a part in anyone’s decisions…)

We’re not done yet. As mentioned both in that previous post and in the Straight Dope column, digital sensors don’t capture color at all; they just capture light intensity – call it greyscale if you like. Consumer digital sensors have little colored overlays to filter each pixel for a particular color, with a choice of three – a fixed value of red, green, or blue. This is actually one of the major issues with digital color rendition, which most people ignore for the sake of digital’s ‘convenience’ but some have recognized as fairly restrictive. The actual resolving power of any consumer camera is actually 1/3 (or even less) of the megapixel count, because each pixel in the final image must have a value for red, green, and blue, which must come from at least three different pixels output from the sensor. So they are interpolated, calculated as the likely ‘true’ color based on the values from the three. Worse, to get to the monitor in front of you they are then split back into three separate colors, giving another hit to resolution.

The cameras on probes (and landers, to the best of my knowledge) don’t suffer from this. The sensors remain monochromatic, and a filter assembly between lens and sensor can be switched at will, allowing not just the fixed three colors that we consumers are stuck with, but a very wide range including infra-red, ultra-violet (likely a range within these broad definitions,) and even filters specific to hydrogen and oxygen emissions. Each pixel is put to work, and the resulting images are transmitted separately for recombining, as needed, back on earth. So that little 2Mp camera can likely produce twenty times the info of any consumer hotsy-totsy model, regardless of megapixel count.

No, not done yet. Everyone knows lenses bend light, but often don’t realize that they bend different wavelengths by different amounts, a little something called chromatic aberration, often resulting in color fringing. Consumer lenses, especially the expensive ones, have lots of little workarounds like multiple coatings to filter out the worst effects, and various elements added to the glass to try and control everything at the same time; again, the demand of capturing the best picture all at once means a lot has to be done to overcome the routine physics of light. And when shooting with infra-red film, focusing actually requires readjusting the focal distance once the filter is in place. Ah, but with the multiple filters of probe cameras, the focal distance can be changed to optimal for each filter! This means that every color can be the sharpest that the lens can produce, rather than an average of fuzziness that most consumers end up with.

So let’s come back down to earth and discuss how this affects your own photography. First off, megapixel count is meaningless unless you’re getting the optimum resolution from your lens, and if you bought a 16Mp camera with a ‘kit’ lens, you’re simply wasting loads of pixels because the lens cannot resolve to use them – and by extension, eating up loads of memory to store fuzziness. Plus, there are so many other factors affecting the quality of your images, including the aforementioned chromatic aberrations, and lens distortions, light falloff, and even color cast. Your sensor may be very susceptible to noise or render contrast poorly, it may be coupled to firmware that doesn’t interpolate well or does terrible white-balancing (another bit of post-processing,) and as hinted at above, it can put a drain on your batteries and memory that shortens your effective shooting time.

Then, there’s the end result to consider. I actually do a pretty good number of prints from my images, both film and digital, and have never shot with anything more than 6Mp. I rarely see anyone who has printed their work out larger than 11 x 14 inches, but even so, let’s think about this. Ignoring the lens considerations, most prints are best viewed all at once, so as the display size goes up, so does the typical viewing distance – commensurately, the ability to make out fine detail drops. Only a very small percentage of images can stand up to getting in close to see tiny details, which is the only place where megapixel count is going to matter… and those that aim for such displays stitch together multiple images, as often as not ;-). Such images have to be near perfect in focus, depth-of-field, exposure, contrast, and so on, which means having a lot more going for you than megapixels.

And finally, the old saw: the camera doesn’t take the pics, it’s just a tool that reflects the skill of the photographer. Even more importantly, technical perfection isn’t what makes a good photo; concentrate on content, composition, emotion, appeal, balance, framing… you get the idea. Don’t get me wrong – resolution can certainly help an image stand out, but that’s not actually determined by megapixels, which mean nothing until you’ve got lots of other things under control first.

Dead of winter

RedtailSquadron
Well, okay, it’s really hard to refer to the dead of winter in the mid-latitude US in normal circumstances, and it seems it’s going to keep getting harder to do that with warming trends. The temperatures yesterday and today exceeded 21°c (70°f,) spurring some activity not just from me, but from other critters as well.

CenozoicParkAbove, a red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) rides a thermal in a spiral pattern, completely ignoring the cluster of American crows (Corvus brachyrhynchos) that were none too happy about its presence. While at right, an early-morning downpour and the temperature increase sparked fog all day long Friday, which made this American toad (Bufo americanus) hang out by the front walk for the day; I am ashamed to say that I never spotted it at all, while The Girlfriend saw it twice and directed my attention to it. Since I’ve been recovering from a persistent illness (part of the reason the posts have been so slow,) I decided not to get soaked crawling around trying to do a selection of poses and compositions, and let this guy go his merry way after only a few frames.

The mist also highlighted some things that would have been next to invisible otherwise, such as this minuscule orb weaver on the rosemary bush. Curiously, the radial anchor strands of web were all that had been completed, and I can only speculate on the purpose. Perhaps the spider maintains them for the ability to quickly add the wheel portion, but then it seems odd to be perched in the center where it really doesn’t do any good. Most spiders seek shelter at one of the upper corners of the web anchors when danger threatens, or during sub-optimal hunting times (often meaning ‘daylight,’) so drawing attention to oneself in this manner seems counter-productive. I know from having seen it several times before that this species is one of the type that forms a vertical line of debris in the center of the web, among which it sits nicely camouflaged.

FogSpider

But now here’s something I didn’t expect. Back at the very beginning of December, I noticed a strange new spot on the kitchen window, which turned out to be a cluster of tiny eggs, all on little stalks. This generally spells “lacewing,” a pretty generic term for numerous species of arthropod in the order Neuroptera. One species, newly hatched, can be seen as number 7 here.

LacewingEggsNew

I’ve seen such eggs several times before, but never in a cluster like this, so I continued watching carefully to capture the hatching, all of the time wondering if it was too late in the season for this to be viable. During the warm weather in December, they could easily be seen to be developing (well, “easily” meaning at quite high magnification, anyway.)

LacewingEggsMaturing

Then we had several overnight frosts, and I figured I could probably stop watching – it seemed unlikely that the developing pupae embryos would have survived the temperature drop. Yet, glancing out the window this morning, the cluster had taken on a distinctly new appearance, and I trotted out with the camera to photograph the new arrivals.

Hatcheses

LacewingCloseupLacewings have a wide variety of larval forms. At least one species has appendages along their bodies that allow the attachment of debris for camouflage, while another is more commonly known as an “ant lion,” burying itself in a cone-shaped depression in the sand and capturing whatever insects stumble into the trap. At right sits an individual from this hatching, a scant one millimeter in length, and this is probably as good as I’m going to get – collecting this one was difficult enough. I coaxed a few onto the tip of a scalpel blade and then had a hard time convincing them to get back off; using tweezers was out of the question, since I haven’t seen anything fine enough to even grasp the body, presuming I had a delicate enough touch not to crush them anyway (if it helps to imagine this, an ordinary straight pin is roughly six times the diameter of their teeny bodies.) So far, these images aren’t enough to let me pin down the species any closer.

LacewingTrapThis image from last summer shows a variety of brown lacewing, family Hemerobiidae, but the difference in coloration makes me think they’re not the same, even though I suspect they will bear more than a passing resemblance later on in life. This one had attracted an ant with its liquid deposit, and I suspect that this is actually a beneficial trait, since later on I found it eating said ant, producing a tighter food circle than one would normally expect.

Later on, I’ll do a post solely on ant lions, since they’re pretty entertaining on their own (in a creepy way, of course, but I’ve given up on trying to avoid such things and am now reveling in them.)

The temperature is supposed to drop again real soon, and once these little buggers leave the empty egg cases I’m not going to spot them again until they get a lot of meals under their belts – safe to say their plight will remain unknown. Since they did so well with the frosts, maybe they’ll be able to brave the winter and start maturing in the spring. I’ve been toying with the idea of trying to collect and keep a few in a terrarium, but I’m really not sure if I could scare up any grub for them, and I’ve never possessed bottle-feeding skills (when I was doing wildlife rehab, I left the baby animals to others and stuck with the adults.) Not to mention that they could slip through the tiniest of cracks, so I’d have to create a special enclosure anyway. Better to just let them cope as intended; after all, if momma really was making a mistake in laying eggs this late, those genes do not need my help in defying natural selection ;-)

TeenyEggsScaleOne last image, because it helps to have a scale shot – chances are you’d never notice one of these walking on you at all. The Girlfriend even asked how I’d spotted the egg cluster in the first place, but that’s one of the traits you develop when chasing bugs; while it looked very much like a splash of dirty water on the window, it was much more uniform than expected (before they’d hatched, anyway,) warranting a closer look. Such things don’t always reveal anything interesting at all, but when they do, it’s worth the extra attention.

Too cool, part 17: Feynman lectures

I’m really not one for quoting others. It’s easy enough to find anyone who has the same point of view that you do, and hold them up as an example of someone famous or prestigious that ‘proves your point.’ This is perhaps doing a disservice to the other reasons to quote someone, such as appreciating the eloquence of their delivery, or simply recognizing diverse points of view, but let’s be honest and say that such uses are far outnumbered by those that are self-serving.

The late Richard Feynman, however, is one example of a science popularizer that we don’t see often enough. The insights that netted him his fame are too obscure for most people (including myself) to comprehend without a lot of work, but he was also very good at communicating just what it is that science does, and why we pursue it. His delivery lacks the polish of many presenters, his accent gives the impression that he should be running a deli someplace, but his enthusiasm and succinctness come through all the same for that:


I could do without the background music, which I consider trite for such video anymore, and it’s interesting enough without even the visuals.

As a species, we seek answers – it could arguably be said to be the most defining trait we have. But in too many cases, this other little thing gets in the way, this idea that answers must in some way serve our egos, fit our desires, or make us special – more special than we already are, which when you think about it is remarkably greedy in itself. And so we create mystical beings and realms and processes that do nothing to explain what we see around us, and only serve to foster this idea of privilege. Every little insecurity that we have, tiny internal prods towards survival behavior, gets turned into a neuroses that is addressed by one aspect or another of these strange ideas too often called, ‘truth.’ Afraid of dying? Good – that’s a survival trait, one that causes us to put it off as long as we can. But no, look! We live forever! Afraid of responsibility? Good – this is something that tells us what we decide is important and has repercussions. But no, look! Some big sky daddy is looking out for us! Feeling insignificant? Good – this is the first step towards doing something to make ourselves less so, improving ourselves. But no, look! Sky daddy made everything in the whole universe, just for us!

It’s not even a matter of liking the answers, because plenty of people have no problem liking an answer if it actually serves to explain something with accuracy. But others seem to believe that any and all answers must spoon-feed their selfish egos, or such answers somehow don’t count. Worse, they will carry this so far as to suppress what science produces because, apparently, being wrong is something they cannot possibly cope with. It’s embarrassing, really, especially when such people claim we were made by a perfect being.

Therein lies the irony: as an evolved species, it makes sense that we’re imperfect, and all of those little neuroses up there are easily seen as emergent properties – but it boggles the mind to think that we were intended to be this self-absorbed. We may indeed need salvation, but only from ourselves.

There are plenty more examples of Feynman’s lectures available, all of which expressing his delight in examination, discovery, and understanding – even when incomplete and not in the least self-affirming. That is, unless you’re one of those who finds understanding to be self-affirming.

Best of 2012

In recognition of arbitrary numbers assigned to seasonal patterns produced by axial tilt, I present my favorite images taken within the past 31,556,941 seconds, more or less – what some gauche people refer to as a “year.” Also note that these are not the best as determined by popular vote, unless you consider ‘popular’ to mean ‘me,’ (and no one has done that in my life, so why start now?)

You can view the runners-up here, and since I shot a huge percentage of arthropod images this year, a gallery of finalists in just the Insect category here. I shot over 21,000 images in digital alone, certainly more than I’ve ever done before, and this is what I have to show for it – in my defense, the majority of photos were illustrations of habits and life cycles, but make of that what you will ;-)

Once again, these are presented alphabetically by the categories that I use for sorting.

Aquatic
2012AquaticBest
“Blue Boy”
Less than a millimeter in size, this is an Arrenurus parasite that preys on dragonflies, among other things. The dark field technique brought out the color, exoskeletal textures, and internal organs in (to me) a fascinating way. And yes, it is a male…

Birds
2012BirdsBest
“Breakfast in Bed”
There was no contest over this one coming in first – the framing couldn’t have been any better, solely from the positions of my two subjects, and in such tight conditions as well. You have to recognize this kind of cooperation.

Insects
2012InsectsBest
“Hygrometer”
Yes, it’s dew, and I did nothing but take the shot – some mornings just produce the best effects. If it helps, you can get a sense of scale here.

Lakes, Streams, Waterfalls
2012LakeBest
“Tiny Scenics”
Not twenty meters from the runner-up, though on a different day. I just liked how the elements came together.

Leaves, Plants, Trees
2012LeavesBest
“Sequined”
The last of the dew shots, I promise. But c’mon, can you blame me?

Mammals, Carnivores
2012MammalsBest
“Weeks of Effort”
Yeah, I know, big fat hairy deal and all that. I said I was doing this by category, and this is one of four frames in the Mammals – don’t ask me how I went so long without seeing any. It shouldn’t have been this sharp shooting through a glass door, however.

Reptiles, Amphibians
2012ReptileBest
“Contemplative”
Another no-contest – does this make up for the squirrel? How about when I say that it’s roughly 14mm long, thus slightly larger than a Japanese beetle, and the smallest frog that I’ve ever seen? That’s not a full leaf that it sits upon, but one that’s just budding out. Another view, and a scale comparison, can be found here.

Scenic, Abstract
2012AbstractBest
“Overleaf”
You may have just seen this, a last-minute entry. I’m a happy little photographer when I spot things of this nature.

Okay, granted, I’m not little…

Science, Miscellaneous
2012MiscBest
“Protracted Labor”
This is what aquatic snails look like hatching, and it happens even slower than you imagine. The light angle brought out the details and the iridescence of the eggshells remarkably well. Click here to see a scale pic with my fingertip – the eggs are roughly 0.5 to 0.8 mm across. Click here to see these eggs being laid.

Space
2012SpaceBest
“Down in Front”
Well, of course this image was going to take the category. When the cloud conditions acted as a natural solar filter and brought the sunlight down to just-barely-manageable levels, I was able to capture the transit of Venus against a wonderfully apocalyptic setting, without any special equipment or preparation. A pleasant surprise, since I had no plans to even attempt this.

Sunrise, Sunset
2012SunriseBest
“Holly Gosunlightly” [Okay, I admit that was terrible.]
Another late entry to take the category unopposed, though it beats out a lot of what I’ve shot in previous years as well. I didn’t travel at all this year, even having a few trips crap out, and there just isn’t anything in my immediate area to do with sunrises. The placement of the holly bush against the sun peeking through the trees was almost an accident, but if we have a clear sunrise after a decent snow, you can bet I’ll be out again to redo this shot with snow on the leaves.

And that’s my selection – at the very least, these posts illustrate the variety of subjects that I chase (though word has it I should specialize more.) The goal, of course, is to blow all of these out of the water next year, though I’m presently at a loss as to how you use steroids in photography.

If you’re the kind to celebrate tonight, use a little sense when doing so, but more importantly, try making a resolve to learn something new about our natural world in the coming year. I’ll do what I can to help ;-)

Cheers!

Finally

Natural-FlashI’ve been working on it longer than I think I should have been, but I finally finished a page on the main site dedicated to macro photography lighting. The writeup isn’t the difficult part – it’s getting images that show everything that I want as clearly as possible. I’d like to think I have good examples up there now.

So if you’ve ever wondered why some macro images look radically different from others, this may well explain it, and what you can do about it. Check it out!

Second Best of 2012

I separate my images into broad categories to help locate them when needed, with some refinements into sub-categories as necessary. So when working on my “Best of 2012” posts, I decided to use these categories (with the exception of the previous post.) As mentioned earlier, two categories remain unrepresented because I didn’t add any images to them in 2012 – those are Beach and Mountain. Two other categories, Mammals/Carnivores and Sunrise/Sunset, were also badly stocked this year, and squeaked out a ‘Best of’ but not a runner-up, and so are not seen here.

So here are the second-place winners in their categories, listed alphabetically.

Aquatic
2012AquaticRU
“Rapacious”
Giant water bugs (Belostoma flumineum) are wicked freshwater predators – this one is snacking on a snail.

Birds
2012BirdsRU
“Stabby The Heron”
More of a favorite than a stunning image, since I love how the beak has pierced the fish completely. The great blue heron (Ardea herodias) wasn’t bothered by my presence, perhaps because I was knee-deep in the river and thus simpatico.

Insects
2012InsectsRU
“Roguish”
I don’t have to explain anything, do I?
(See also the competitors in this category here.)

Lakes, Streams, Waterfalls
2012LakeRU
“Grande”
Froth in an eddy of the nearby river, resembling some creation of a barista. Or maybe not – I don’t drink coffee…

Leaves, Plants, Trees
2012LeavesRU
“Schedule Conflict”
I think the image expresses the incongruous weather early in the year; this photo actually comes after my first bee & flower shots. The light angle produces most of the detail, which is why I stress its importance so often.

Reptiles, Amphibians
2012ReptileRU
“Green Day”
The green anole (Anolis carolinensis) really was over my head, so this is a natural perspective, and one that shows the scale detail quite nicely.

Scenic, Abstract
2012AbstractRU
“Multiverse”
Just dewdrops – some acting as lenses, some well out of focus. Leaving the aperture wide open prevented any hexagonal or octagonal shapes from the bokeh.

Science, Miscellaneous
2012MiscRU
“Alert”
It all just seems to come together for this image – diffuse light from the softbox, angle of view, and a cooperative pose from the snail.

Space
2012SpaceRU
“Textures”
While full moons are great by eye, closer looks benefit much more from partial phases, where the details and the geography are enhanced by the shadows. It’s easy to tell which craters were filled by lava, and which weren’t. I have to add that this is just a telephoto lens shot, with a Sigma 170-500mm.

So that’s the collection of near-misses for the year. Come back tomorrow for the Best of 2012 images in the final installment of this exercise in ego!

2012’s Not-Quites, the Insects

So as I mentioned, I went ahead and put together my best images of this year – or, as it really should be, my favorites, since no one is voting on these but me. However, this year was notable in that most of my images, by a wide margin, were arthropods (which I still call ‘insects’ solely for convenience.) I didn’t like ‘discarding’ so many images that I felt were strong just to produce a Best and Second Best, so I created a post of ten more eager and excited finalists in ascending order. Feel free to do your own Casey Kasem impressions as we go.

10.
2012Insects10
“Is It Safe?”
An unidentified jumping spider checks to see if I’ve left yet.

9.
2012Insects09
“At The Trough”
This bumblebee was holding still as poorly as they ever do – sometimes you simply nail focus even when the conditions are against it.

8.
2012Insects08
“Almost… there…”
Optimism is good, though sometimes misplaced.

7.
2012Insects07
“So, now what?”
Newly hatched lacewing nymphs (family Chrysopidae,) measuring roughly 2mm in body length, congregate on their suspended empty egg cases before venturing off on their own. Later on they will camouflage themselves with debris.

6.
2012Insects06
“Point it away from your face”
Just a white-banded crab spider (Misumenoides formosipes) and her meal.

5.
2012Insects05
Raargh!
Combined backlighting and flash bringing out the best of a giant stag beetle (Lucanus elaphus.)

4.
2012Insects04
“Translucence”
I just like what the light does to both the leaf and the jumping spider.

3.
2012Insects03
“Food Chain”
A spiny assassin bug (Sinea spinipes,) maybe 12mm in length, preys on a lady beetle larva that was in turn preying on aphids. Click to see the facial detail.

2.
2012Insects02
“Steam Train”
How could I pass this up? Click for the higher-resolution version to see the detail on these unidentified leafhopper nymphs.

1.
2012Insects01
“Mellow?”
I have a hard time defining what it is about the quality of light that makes this work for me, but the soothing nature of it offsets the menace of the spider. Or maybe it’s just me.
I can’t say for sure, but I think this is genus Mecaphesa, possibly M. carletonica.

So those were the finalists that I couldn’t pass up in the Insect category. If you’ve read what I said about position and shooting angle, I can follow that with saying only three of these were taken from a ‘normal’ position, and the rest in various degrees of awkwardness, number 7 especially so. You might also note that none of them have the black background so typical of macro work; while I certainly have enough images like that, the ones without usually look much better, so it’s worth the effort to eradicate whenever possible, and I’ll talk more about this soon.

Next, the Runners-Up across the board.

Cut out for me

Alex Wild of Myrmecos (sidebar,) and Compound Eye at Scientific American, has announced that he will feature any “Best of 2012” sites from science & nature photographers in a post at Compound Eye. There’s already a nice collection of links, so check them out!

While I usually skip the whole “best of the year” stuff and rarely get engaged in rating my images, I figured it was a good way to go back over what I’d done which, among other things, helps set goals for improvement and future captures. Not to mention I’m happy for the chance of greater exposure. I figure I’ll feature one photo from each of the broad categories into which I sort my images, and one runner-up. The runner-up post will come first, followed by the best post a day later, on the 31st.

It’ll be interesting. Two categories, Mountain and Beach, have no entries for 2012 at all – I never got the chance to do any shooting at either. One category received its first contributions for the year just a couple days ago – that will be obvious ;-)

And one category, Insects (which should technically be called Arthropods, but too bad) has 6,687 images from this year in it, and I’m not even sure I’m done. These, by the way, are the ‘keepers,’ the ones I considered strong enough for my stock images, and far less than what I actually shot – many images get discarded from simply not making the standards I set. So yeah, going through that collection is going to take some time.

Coming soon (as soon as I finish all of the illustrations necessary) will be another webpage in the Tips & Tricks section of the main site, as well. So check back shortly!

Humidity and challenges

TheGirlfriendsLepid
ButterflyhouseSo, The Girlfriend’s Younger Sprog had a volunteer engagement at the North Carolina Museum of Life & Science in Durham, so I tagged along to kill time at the museum, because I hadn’t been in a while. As you may have already surmised if you’re exceptionally quick, the museum has a butterfly house.

For a working nature photographer, such places can be nice, but not necessarily as useful as you might imagine. Everything is a captive subject, of course, but what reduces the value of the shots even more is that the lepidoptera species and the foliage are often from different locales and habitats, and thus may produce an ‘unnatural’ image. While I might like the way the image at left came together, any editor interested in either of the two species seen would probably not want the other to be included. This is a two-edged sword; it can cost a bundle to obtain images of such species in their natural habitat, but pricing the images accordingly will often exceed the budget of the potential client, so the goal is to produce as many useful images on any trip as possible, and try to recoup the costs in volume of sales. That is, unfortunately, not a business plan I’ve got in motion right now.

There’s still plenty that can be done, including detailed anatomical and artsy images, not to mention just having fun. I learned long ago that some butterflies are fond of sweat, so convincing them to remain on your hand can be as simple as swiping your forehead first. It would seem that this depends on the forehead; they definitely seemed to prefer my sweat over The Girlfriend’s, so it’s lucky that I’m a bountiful provider. I was tempted to let my ego run wild and imagine that her wiping my brow was something akin to the assistance provided a great surgeon while he worked, but my similarity to a dairy cow is probably more accurate. Her fingers, but my sweat, produced the image at top.

Courtship
Now here’s the other side of captive photography. The chances of my obtaining an image like this in the wild are minute in the extreme, since this is mating behavior, and the dude on the left is indeed in midair. Regardless of the locale, the behavior displayed is typical and can easily be used as an illustration. The end use of the image is an important consideration; while it might be colorful and (seemingly) appropriate to capture a butterfly on a flower, such images are common. Behavior and life cycle images also have their markets, and far fewer people capturing them.

By the way, butterfly houses and rainforest displays usually mimic natural conditions, which means they are quite warm and extremely humid. Your camera will typically have to warm up a bit to eradicate the tendency to get condensation on the lens surfaces, and this will go faster if it’s out of the bag. Do not change lenses, or even operate the zoom functions, until the camera is warm – humidity inside the lens can take hours if not days to clear. Air circulation helps, but patience is the only real tool.

FrogpairAdjacent to the butterfly house is a section of other critters in various small terrariums, and these present challenges of their own. Shooting through glass frequently presents difficulties, made worse if the glass isn’t perfectly clean – for some reason, the frogs seemed disinclined to wipe down their side. The best method for avoiding distortion is to shoot straight through the glass rather than at an angle, but this means your positions become quite limited. It also helps to reduce glare and stray reflections by being right against the glass, so if the terrarium is small this puts you very close to your subject – better have a lens that focuses quite close, or keep the extension tubes handy.

The real challenge, however, is lighting. The camera flash can produce glare from the glass that you’re attempting to shoot through, or from the glass on the far side of your subject. Direct light can throw contrasty reflections back from shiny surfaces, and the close conditions mentioned above can mean even getting light onto your subject (most especially without deep shadows underneath) is difficult. This is where an off-camera flash cord works best, and where The Girlfriend was a tremendous help. Poison dart frogs such as these can be very difficult to get any eye detail from, since dark eyes against dark skin usually means nothing but black, but the right light angle changes that. She was also able to aim the strobe past leaves that would throw shadows, and select a position that models the shape of the frogs better – it’s the gradients and shadows that provide three-dimensionality in photographs.

RedFrog
Case in point: this tiny, shy little specimen (charmingly, an Oophaga pumilio) who took shelter under a rock ledge and was barely visible in normal conditions. The body shape is defined by the shadows, and while the eyes might have benefited from a catchlight, a reflective sparkle, this matters less when surrounded by the red skin outlining the shape of the eyes – it might even have contributed to the menacing expression of discovering that the neighborhood dogs were at the garbage cans again (you have to admit, there is something purposeful about the frog’s position, and yes, I tried several variations in shooting angle before selecting this as the most expressive.) And while it’s easy to miss, you will note the blur at lower left from schmutz on the glass, since I was shooting at frog eye level and they never wash their hands adequately.

What we were most delighted with this trip, however, was the discovery that since our last visit, the museum had obtained some orchid mantises.

OrchidMantis1
Maybe people who live in these areas are used to their local species, and are fascinated by the gray squirrels and crows we have in North America. Okay, probably not. But I’d truly love to spend a few weeks (preferably months) in some of these areas and wear the shutters out of my cameras. While closely related to the various mantises we have here, featured in my spring and summer posts, orchid mantises (Hymenopus coronatus) from Southeast Asia possess a flamboyant body shape that camouflages them among their favorite habitat, which also provides their name. I mean, c’mon, how can you not love something with eyes like that? But it was the restrictions of the housing display that prevented me from getting any images (yet) that showed them off better. First, it didn’t help that the two specimens were snubbing the orchids and branches within the terrarium in favor of climbing the glass and traipsing along the roof inverted (though I admit it was fun to see them climbing the glass, something I never thought a mantis could do.) However, this meant that I had to work very close to the insects to prevent reflections from the exterior, and framing choices are quite limited then. At any given time, I also had less than a minute where their perambulations were along a natural-looking surface, and they weren’t holding still then – mantids have a tendency to twitch and sway like leaves in the wind to fool their prey and disguise their advances, and this means staying on your toes to maintain tight focus.

And then there’s the background, which basically didn’t exist – the terrarium was hexagonal-shaped to permit good views, which isn’t as accommodating for nature photography. Yes, I admit to not coming prepared with a collection of leaves to hang against the far side for a nice backdrop – I’m trying to imagine how well that would have gone over with museum staff.

OrchidMantis2
Seen here, the mantis has just finished cleaning a foreleg, having rudely refused to wait for my flash to recharge. Also note the one leg apparently hanging in space but actually clutching the glass, and the stray reflections that make endeavors of this kind so complicated.

Now, it’s not all bad, and I don’t want to discourage anyone from such pursuits, only to provide accurate expectations. The mantis will almost certainly provide a good pose on an orchid at some point, allowing both a natural-appearing setting and a great display of the camouflage, but it takes patience to wait for these opportunities. Add in courtesy to everyone else visiting the museum who would like to see the critters past you, and recognize that even in such ‘controlled’ conditions, obtaining a few good shots can be demanding and take a certain investment of time and effort. Considerably less so than flying to Malaysia, of course, but still more than simply walking up to the display and firing away.

There’s also such a thing as not stressing about the shot, and simply enjoying the museum for what it is – the Museum of Life & Science displays a tremendous amount of effort in education, activities, and variety, so it’s not just for photographers. I think I even saw some kids there (I often tunes such things out automatically – there might have been a lot for all I know.)

The leaf image from the previous post was obtained there as well, The Girlfriend’s assistance with the flash providing a stronger backlighting effect than the weak sunlight through the glass dome.

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