Visibly different, part 5

moonlight time exposure on side of highway
We’re going to go a little backwards on this one. We start off with a time exposure from August 17th, 1989, and despite it being on a negative with no date stamp, I can be this precise because it was taken following a total lunar eclipse, and I already knew the year and season. If I was really slick, I could give you a decent time too, because I know the precise location and the shadows from the moon will indicate where the moon was in the sky. I’m going to wing it, though, and say about 2 AM. The lights are from at least one big rig, but I think it was two, passing through the frame as the shutter was locked open, and despite the slight clutter from the other elements, the framing couldn’t have been much better.

But this image, an idle experiment while finishing off the roll, illustrated not only how cool time exposures could be, but how much light the full moon actually throws down, and that it’s not ‘blue’ as we imagine it. The original print received from the lab had been lightened more than this and appeared to be full daylight, but on examining the negative and ‘default’ exposures, I determined that it wasn’t quite that bright, and this is closer to the mark. It’s also the very first print that I had enlarged for display, and come the digital age, I made sure that it was scanned meticulously (actually, multiple times,) and archived – I’m not losing this one.

All this was with a borrowed SLR camera in the very early days of my photography – what I possessed then was my Wittnauer Challenger, a rangefinder with a fixed 50mm lens. But it was the start of a faint obsession with long exposures, moonlight, and light trails. So how has this progressed? Let’s take a look at perhaps my best version since then.

time exposure with light trails and moon alongside highway
Nicely surreal, but honestly, no match for the first – I’ve never even done something comparable, much less exceeded that accidental effort so long ago. I admittedly don’t try too often, because the conditions have to be right, and I know that happenstance and luck contributed a lot to the initial image up there. This time around it was March 2000, on the edge of I-295 outside Jacksonville, Florida, the return leg of a trip through the state dedicated to photography. I saw the full moon glowing orange low over the highway and quickly pulled to the side of the road, set up the tripod, and waited for another truck. The very odd set of bars in mid-frame comes from a string of lights attached to the back of the cab, visible only briefly before the advancing trailer blocked the view again, while the uppermost lights came from the back of the trailer, indicating that I closed the shutter before the truck had gotten too far down the road. The moon was of course too low to illuminate the landscape (not to mention facing directly into it,) but this time I used it as an element instead, and the exposure was notably shorter; I can’t even go on memory for either, but from what I know about exposure now, I’d say the latter one was no more than ten seconds while the former definitely exceeded thirty, possibly a full minute or so.

I would have expected to have surpassed the quality of the first sometime well before 32 years had passed, but it’s never happened yet, and I have indeed tried several times. Really, getting a good location is a little more challenging than you might imagine, and the right vehicles in the frame count for a lot. But it also serves as a reminder that, in unknown locations throughout my stock, I probably have the best photos that I’m ever going to get of any particular subject. That’s not a good way to look at things really, and I’m always aiming to improve, well, everything. When (if) I beat that image up top, you’ll definitely see it here.

Segregation has its uses

Not among different races or cultures of people, of course – that’s just stupid, a sign of hopeless immaturity, actually. But among certain substances, it can be quite useful. Like among oil and water.

vegetable oil droplets in shallow glass pan of water
That’s what we’re looking at here of course, small droplets of vegetable oil in a shallow glass pan of water. That’s because today (the fifth Monday in January) is Household Ingredients Day, when photographers are obligated to screw around with whatever’s handy to create something fartsy. Or at least try. Fart is in the eye of the beholder, naturally, and all I can do is show you want I got. Then when you’re done giggling, you can look at the images here and judge them for yourself, but of course you’re going to decide favorably, because I already know you have excellent taste.

This is also a bit of a callback to the second monthly abstract, before this was actually a thing, because I’ve been wanting to play around with such things a little more, and the lack of a January abstract (and the holiday of course) was a decent excuse. Initially, I experimented with soap bubbles, and got some promising concepts but nothing that was particularly strong, so I cleaned that out of the pan and went with the oil and water.

vegetable oil and water in a shallow glass pan with illuminated CD underneath
I also played around with having different images displayed on a tablet underneath the pan, but these were too close to produce a good effect – the distance should be more than a centimeter or so, to allow the oil drops to act as lenses. So what we have here is actually a CD, illuminated by a strong flashlight at an angle to get some of the rainbow diffraction to show up. The spheres are overlapping a bit because some of them are probably air, since I vigorously stirred up the water to make the droplets as small as possible. I have a Manfrotto 3021BPro tripod, which allows the center column to be removed and mounted sideways, so the camera could be positioned directly over my work surface, in this case the black glass of the range top. Initially, I was using the Sigma 28-105, but the working distance was right on the fine edge and the zoom was creeping from the camera facing almost straight down, so I switched to the Mamiya 80mm Macro with extension tube. Most of these are shot at f4 because depth isn’t really necessary for this.

oil droplets suspended in water in a shallow glass pan with illuminated CD beneath
The angle of the flashlight was crucial for the various effects, and being close to aiming directly down from alongside the camera seemed to give better diffraction from the CD and sharper contrast, though for a couple of these images I boosted that slightly, because GIMP is a household ingredient too.

I recommend letting the pan sit undisturbed for a while, to eliminate the residual motion of the water and let the smaller air bubbles combine and surface, but don’t hesitate to experiment with the motion if you like, as well as shifted focus and perhaps even other substances, especially with color; oil in a very shallow layer of red wine, perhaps. Go nuts. My next attempt may be water or glycerin drops atop a glass sheet suspended much higher above… I dunno, something colorful and dynamic, perhaps a print, perhaps a collection of marbles, who knows?

[I’ve never tried the stuff yet, but glycerin is supposed to bead better and not evaporate, and is often used as ‘sweat’ or ‘dew in photography and videography, so give it a try if you like. But this time, only if you have it handy already, because the holiday doesn’t allow purchasing extra props or materials.]

vegetable oil drops in water in a shallow glass pan, backlit by illuminated CD
The funny thing is, these are very two-dimensional, flat images since the droplets are all at the water surface, but the differing sizes and contrast kind of disguises that in some of the images, doesn’t it? As yet, I haven’t figured out a way to make it more three-dimensional easily, save for using spider webs like here, and that required one of those spiders that spin haphazard, messy webs – not something that I’m likely to find right now.

vegetable oil suspended in water in a shallow glass pan, backlit by illuminated CD
Anyway, experiment away today, because it’s required by law if you own a camera and I’d hate for you to do jail time, but I’m also a snitch and I’m not covering for your ass. I mean, we both know you’re not gonna top these, yet it’s only mandated that you try, and it’s a good learning experience anyway. Have fun!

January’s a little ripe

That’s right, it’s the last day of January, and so we have our time-honored tradition here on Walkabout of seeing out the month with an abstract. What kind of abstract do you have for us, January?

contrasty balls of some sort
Well, we got… bubbles… or something. Water drops, maybe. A drastic overuse of some Photoshop filter. Contrast and circles, anyway. Can’t get a whole lot more abstract than this, really.

Moreover, this was shot within the past hour or so specifically because I had very little that even fit from the past month, and nothing at all that I liked, so I set out to make something. And for once, I got plenty of good candidates. Along with plenty of crap too, but you didn’t hear that from me and you won’t be seeing it. Unless you consider this crap, in which case I don’t care what you think.

Since today is also a holiday, I will return and give a bit more insight into this, but right now I’m less than half an hour from the typical abstract deadline, it already being the 31st, so I gotta finish this off. And don’t try looking at the tags or the image info because they won’t help at all. If you knew, it wouldn’t be abstract now, would it?

The 25 year journey of the Sigma 28-105

Sigma 28-105 f2.8-4
I mention using this lens from time to time, and I’ve gone into detail here and there, but it deserves another look, especially as we come up on its 25th birthday, more or less.

When I bought my first ‘serious,’ new camera, the Canon Elan IIe, back in 1997, I picked a pair of lenses to go along with it, using my income tax refund for the previous year. The primary lens was the Sigma 28-105 f2.8-4 – a better zoom range than most were offering at the time, and the fastest too. While definitely not the sharpest lens available, it was versatile, and served as my workhorse until 2004 in Florida, when the aperture stopped working. Much later, I discovered that this was due to a ribbon cable within that carried the signals back and forth to the electronic aperture within the floating elements. But back in 2004, I set the lens aside with the thought that maybe I’d see about repairing it later on, this not being affordable at the time.

[A brief aside about zoom lenses: Because of their variable focal length, there are usually groups of lens elements inside that move independently when zooming, and these are where the aperture must sit, so a flexible cable to an electronic aperture control is used instead of any mechanical method. But over time, these cables often fail, for some lenses much faster than others.]

And then, probably about ten years ago, I started experimenting again with the various ways that extreme macro magnifications could be achieved without specialty lenses, among these being lens stacking and lens reversing. Lens stacking is putting a shorter focal length (often 50mm) reversed onto the end of a longer focal length like a short to medium telephoto. This varies a lot in effect, often introducing diffractive distortion, but sometimes working remarkably well. Lens reversing is simpler, and just means using a lens (usually a wider angle like 35mm) backwards directly on the camera body. Both of these, by the way, can be accomplished easily with inexpensive adapter rings. I tried out the Sigma 28-105 on a whim, just holding it against the mounting ring on the camera for initial tests, and found that it worked pretty well, so I went ahead and got the proper adapter for it.

[Side note II: This works with wider-angle lenses because of the light path. Normally they capture a wide view angle and focus it down to the width of the film/sensor plane only a few centimeters from the back of the lens. Reversed and used backwards, they can take something a few centimeters from the (now front) of the lens and ensure that the image covers the whole sensor plane, but to get it into focus, the subject tends to be very close and significantly magnified. You will never get something even a meter away to focus at all.]

Sigma 28-105 f2.8-4 mounted reversed onto Canon body
This was working okay, but of course the aperture was fixed wide open, far from ideal with any macro work. The more the image is magnified, the shorter the depth of field gets, and with the magnification of the Sigma, tight focus was down to less than 1mm at f2.8. So I opened the lens up, worked my way down to the aperture motor and removed it, which meant the aperture could now be adjusted by nudging a little gear down there. There was no way to keep doing this with the lens reassembled, so I closed it down significantly, but not quite all the way, and reassembled the lens – correctly I might add. Later, with multiple exposure tests, I determined that I’d gotten within a half stop of f16. This made depth of field acceptable for the subjects that I was tackling. But, since it was fixed, it did make the viewfinder image dark, requiring plenty of light on the subject just to know when it was in focus.

Used this way, the focus ring does almost nothing – trivial tweak in distance and that’s it. So the zoom ring becomes the rough focus and/or adjustment to working distance, and most often, I either decided that I’m after maximum magnification (which would be at 28mm,) or I’m after a certain framing, so I zoom until I can snag it. Then, I simply lean back and forth with the camera itself until focus is achieved.

This does, of course, introduce its own issues. Focus range is still exceptionally short, within millimeters, so holding that still within that narrow a range is challenging. Actually, I can’t do it at all myself, unless I brace against something. On those occasions when I’m trying for high magnification but can’t find anything to lean against or even get a finger to touch, it’s down to timing, trying to trip the shutter just as my swaying/breathing (which really does affect the focus) closes in on optimum sharpness. This obviously doesn’t always work, so I often take several frames in the attempt. This still doesn’t always work. But it does often enough to get something slick.

Having been inspired by seeing the results that someone else achieved, I also did some work on the Vivitar macro bellows.

Vivitar macro bellows with Nikkor 50mm enlarging lens
The basic premise is, move a lens further from the sensor plane to enlarge the image more, i.e., provide more magnification, just like moving a projector further from the screen. To this end, they make extension tubes for all major camera brands, but less frequently seen is a bellows, which is just a widely adjustable extension. This one had been made years ago (long before the Sigma lens) for use with Pentax screw-mount/M42 lenses, but it came with a Nikon adapter on both ends. I kept the front adapter but purchased a Canon adapter for the rear, then tried it with several lenses. It’s often recommended to use decent enlarging lenses, sometimes reversed, because they’re optimized for the extension and corrected for both flat plane and chromatic aberration. I simply took a few Nikon body caps, which are basically the same as the lens base, drilled them out and altered them to serve as adapters for various lenses; in this case I was trying out a few enlarging lenses I’d obtained. Long story short: the performance was nearly identical to the reversed Sigma 28-105, and while the bellows could produce a little greater magnification, I could match or exceed that with extension tubes on the Sigma. And, as can be imagined, the Sigma is easier to wield.

Let’s see some quick examples, first of the magnifications. This is the Sigma at 105mm, essentially the farthest it can be used from a subject and thus the widest angle.

penny/cent at maximum distance from reversed Sigma 28-105 f2.8-4 at 105mm
Not especially close, but again, this is the maximum range – ‘infinity’ is not an option. And you can definitely see some chromatic aberration, some color fringing, in the corners, but they’re also out of focus. Now we’ll go to the other end of the scale – both of these images are full-frame by the way, not cropped at all.

penny/cent at minimum focusing distance for reversed Sigma 28-105 f2.8-4
Mind you, this is straight up, no extensions or added diopters or anything – so you know, the entire date is 3.7mm in width. Out of curiosity, I finally sat down and calculated the magnification that this achieves, which is 2.4X – less than I’d thought, but not at all shabby at that, and much higher than any standard macro lens on the market.

Now we’ll look at the results from an El Nikkor 50mm f2.8 enlarging lens at f16, on the bellows extended to about 125mm.

penny/cent taken by Vivitar macro bellows at 125mm with El Nikkor 50mm f2.8 enlarging lens at f16
Pretty close to the same thing, though the bellows can extend a little farther for more magnification, but then again, the Sigma can be used on extension tubes and likely exceed the maximum of the bellows. At this point, it comes down to how much diffraction and aberration takes over.

I find it interesting that the lens is now having a longer life at a purpose it was never intended for, with probably much sharper results, than its original and designed use – which really wasn’t bad at that. It had been through multiple trips to Florida and the NC beaches, shooting dozens of weddings and thousands of nature slides, then sat around in a box for several years until I discovered its new purpose. I’m not going to recommend never throwing things out on the idea that maybe someday they’ll have a use, but it worked out well for this one. And it got me this portrait, which cannot be denied.

Not ‘arf Wednesday

I was out on the road a little too far from home (where my camera, long lens, and tripod sat) when I spotted the moon rising above the trees – blood red, dim, and of course looking huge. First off, if you know what time the moon rose this morning you may be wondering why I was on the road at that time, but bug off. Anyway, I liked the color but knew it would be unlikely to still be that color by the time I got back, which would only be about twenty minutes, but that’s how it goes. I still figured I’d make the attempt anyway.

The real trouble was, there are a few too many trees around Walkabout Estates, so the effective horizon is higher than it was while seeing the moon out on the road, and I still had to wait another ten minutes before it became fully visible. I did a quick check, and Stellarium plots it at about 7°, though I suspect it’s a little higher than that, but I have no accurate way of determining this yet. One day. Anyway, it was certainly brighter orange by this time, though my exposure makes it seem a little darker than it appeared in person.

orange waning moon just slightly under half
Focus could have been a wee bit better, but I wasn’t aiming for fine detail as much this time, especially when the shutter speed was 0.4 seconds, so tripod shake, atmospheric ripple, and even rotation might fudge it a little. The big crater on the terminator, almost dropping into shadow over there to the right, is Clavius, by the way, and we’re 23 years late for having a base there…

Is it my imagination, or does the moon look slightly distorted here, squashed a little? I would have thought it was high enough to overcome the atmospheric distortion that can occur on the horizon.

[Actually, it is my imagination – I just went into GIMP with the circle tool and it matches perfectly. It may only be a factor of both the less-than-half terminator line and my particular crop, slightly favoring the unlit portion that I know is there. Or the brighter lunar highlands at the bottom disguise the curve. Or my glasses might need work. Or I’m old. But while I’m on the subject, the idea of the moon looking huge on the horizon has been kicked around countless times, with multiple potential explanations, but to clarify, it’s just an illusion – the moon is the same size at rise or set than it is overhead, and my various photos at the same magnification maintain this. Partially, it’s thought to be that, in relation to the other things we see near it as it rises, it seems to overwhelm them, especially when we can see things getting smaller with distance – it’s kinda psychological. There’s also the concept that we envision the sky not as a sphere, much less an empty space, but as a flattened bowl, much closer to us overhead than it is out at the edges where the horizon is, so we perceive that the moon is much farther away when low and should be even smaller. We’re weird.]

moon starting to get obscured by cloudsThe session wasn’t slated to last long, however – I could see the cloud cover moving in and it soon started overtaking the moon. When I’d first gone out once I got home and started looking, I thought the clouds might already be obscuring it, but then it appeared over the trees. It remained that way for only fifteen minutes or so before vanishing, which wrapped my session, but hey, a little winter content, and it wasn’t all that cold out there anyway. I really should be over chasing the beavers*, but I’m not psyched for a multi-hour session at the pond, so it’ll wait until later. I know, I know, “Big fat professional nature photographer,” yeah yeah, but if I was getting paid for the pursuit it might be a different matter. Everything has a price – we can deal.

* hur hur hur… oh shut up

Visibly different, part 4

long-jawed orb weaver Tetragnatha portrait
The date of the above shot is unknown; it’s a slide, and I know where it was shot but not when. For some reason this slide has no date stamp, though others, from what I believe was the same trip, do, so I’m going with that: August 2006. Down by a boathouse on Hyco Lake in northern NC, these guys were everywhere, and I took the opportunity to lean in and do a portrait with the Sigma 105mm macro lens, and I’m fairly certain at that time that I had a custom-made macro reflector for the Canon 380EX flash unit, which would normally be pointing over top of such a close subject. This is a long-jawed orb weaver (genus Tetragnatha,) by the way, and I was pleased at the spider facial detail that I captured.

Now we jump forward seven years (or thereabouts) to 2013, seeing the same genus on a trip to Georgia.

long-jawed orb weaver Tetragnatha in closeup profile
This time, instead of slide film in the EOS 3, it was the original Digital Rebel. The Sigma macro had gone wonky and so this was either the Mamiya 80mm macro with extension, or the reversed Sigma 28-105 – I can’t remember which, and obviously neither one was leaving their spoor in the EXIF file. The image up top is full frame, the entire slide, while this is is cropped slightly – call it at least 85% of the full frame, enough that you’d have to look closely to be sure of the change (or at least I did – this image was uploaded back then and I’m just recycling it, but I did compare it to the original file.) The lighting is courtesy of my first decent macro softbox, the Sunpak FP38 with a custom diffuser seen here, which worked great until I inadvertently fried it a couple years later by hooking up an AC adapter set with the wrong voltage (stupid.)

You can see the difference in magnification of course (and the more I look at the latter, the more I’m convinced I’d used the reversed Sigma,) but the lighting deserves a lot of attention too, because it’s responsible for showing so much of the detail, and giving that nice sheen to the chitin without harsh spotlighting. The entire frame may span roughly 12mm or so, and the body width of the spider (not counting legs of course) might top 4mm, likely less. Notably, both were shot ‘in the wild,’ no attempt to restrain the subjects at all, and I was exceptionally lucky with the latter image because spiders tend to be a little shy and go for cover if someone leans in close, but in this case she (yes it’s a female) simply tucked into a line on a trunk and counted on her camouflage, and I managed not to spook her out of sight.

But most of the credit, at least for the advances between the two images, goes to the equipment. To some extent, I knew what I needed but hadn’t dropped the significant money on it, because macro work usually requires lights pointing in very specific locations down directly in front of the lens. To a greater extent, however, I ended up making or modifying what I needed because such things simply don’t exist (yet,) such as the softbox aiming downward at an angle, broad enough to ‘cover’ an entire macro subject so the light doesn’t look directional, but portable enough to carry mounted on the camera. Over the past ten years or so, lots more little fiddly bits like articulated arms became available on the webbertubes, and I could also find obscure variable-output strobes that weren’t ridiculously cumbersome.

And the amazing performance of a defunct mediocre lens, when used backwards, was just an extreme bit of luck that I’m exploiting shamelessly.

Monday color 64,328

Actually, I’ve lost track of how many Monday Colors there have actually been, but I think this number isn’t underselling it. In the past, I’ve posted colors in the winter to counteract the lack thereof outside as we wait for spring to arrive, but this time, they’re actually current, having been taken today.

flowers on Japanese maple tree in greenhouse
I posted a variation of this a couple days back, but I retackled the subject with a more appropriate lens (which is of course the Mamiya 80mm macro.) This is one of the Japanese maples overwintering in the greenhouse, which is keeping things toasty enough that the tree is leafing out and flowering. It’s one of four (I think) Japanese maples in there, and if any of the others had started blooming too I’d be cross-pollinating them just to see what happens. It’s that kind of toying with nature that causes comic books and cheesy 50s horror movies to happen, but that’s what people expect from atheists anyway, so why fight it?

Granted, showing off stuff from the greenhouse is cheating, if we’re highlighting winter activity, so the next one isn’t. This is right out in the open, and I’d missed my opportunity to snag this with snow on top.

blossom of paperbush Edgeworthia chrysantha
A few years ago The Girlfriend had seen a paperbush (Edgeworthia chrysantha) in bloom in late winter/early spring, and we finally got a pair last year. One of them seemed to have died in the pot, but this one was doing great and got transplanted in the fall, already bearing flower buds then. It’s blooming nicely now, even though it’s still quite small, and each branch has new leaf buds at the ends, but it was a bit challenging to photograph since the blossoms face downwards and the highest isn’t half-a-meter off the ground. Counting the length of the camera/lens combo, and my fat head, there was a very narrow margin to even obtain focus and still get the entire blossom in the frame. Paperbushes can get very big and thick, so we’ll see how this progresses over the next few years.

Anyway, a little shot of color for Monday while I still look for photo projects to tackle. I’m working on it…

Asking the right questions

Believe me, I’m well aware that I’m not posting much and then I come in with something like this. You’re right to feel offended. Not that I care at all, but I won’t deny you your affrontage.

So I was thinking earlier of the varying attitudes held when the subject of UFOs (or UAPs if you prefer, for Unidentified Aerial Phenomenon) and extra-terrestrials and so on comes up. Unlike many subjects, there is very often a clean divide in the stances taken, which I’ll crassly categorize as ‘believer’ and ‘skeptic.’ There may, in fact, be a lot of people falling into the large grey area between those two, and only the extremes tend to get into discussions, but for now we’ll stick with the most visible stances.

Very often, such discussions may boil down to the believer saying of/to the skeptic, “So you just don’t believe in extra-terrestrial life, then.” I personally can’t count the number of times I’ve seen this or some minor variation of it, even though I have yet to find anyone who’s actually expressed such disbelief – in other words, it’s countering a comment that no one’s made. But this says a little about assumptions, and filling in the blanks rather than addressing what really has been said, and so I’m going to list out a string of much more specific questions, not to answer them, but to illustrate what is usually being skipped. This bears more than a passing resemblance to Drake’s Equation, at least initially, but goes a little further.

So we’ll start with:

  • Do you think life can develop on other planets?
  • Do you think life has developed on other planets?
  • Do you think intelligent (i.e. spacefaring) life has developed on other planets?
  • Do you think intelligent life presently exists on other planets?
  • Do you think intelligent life exists on other planets within a reasonable contact distance from Earth (say, within 20 light years)?
  • Do you think intelligent life is interested in contact/observation? [This is one that is assumed by the majority of people on either side, but it’s rather a distinct factor.]
  • Do you think intelligent life is able/willing to expend vast amounts of energy on this contact?
  • Do you think intelligent life would initiate contact/observation in person (i.e. within our own solar system) rather than through distant communication?
  • Do you think intelligent life would initiate contact/observation within easily detectable ranges (i.e. within range of radar or astronomical observation)?
  • Do you think intelligent life would initiate contact/observation within lower atmosphere (less than 20,000 feet)?
  • Do you think intelligent life would initiate contact/observation in random areas with highly visible craft?
  • Do you think intelligent life would initiate contact/observation within craft that carried or emitted bright lights to completely eradicate the value of dark skies?
  • Each one of these, of course, is less likely than the previous, perhaps by a minor amount, perhaps exponentially or better. Some of them simply beg the question of why such advanced intelligence would do something so hazardous and/or pointless. I mean, we know the value of shutting off the running lights when we don’t want to be seen, and we can’t even take a jaunt out to Mars and back.

    Most believers operate on the stance that all of these have actually happened, or are at least fairly likely. Most skeptics consider the numbers falling so abysmally low that what is currently considered ‘evidence’ to the believer is most likely misinterpretations, and the active skeptics are often capable of showing how and where. Personally, I find the last five questions to fall below a 1% chance each of happening, and to prove otherwise, someone would need a hell of a lot more than shitty photographs and random eyewitness accounts without a shred of corroboration. Naturally, it would help if a) the field didn’t have a horrendous history of failure, b) the believers showed more than a trace of investigative ability, and c) the ‘evidence’ actually led someplace.

    But I suspect that this divide is mostly due to the difference in emotional attachment to the idea: those that want to believe in extra-terrestrial visitation concentrate on the factors that support the idea and ignore those that counter it, or handwave them away with phrases like, “A sufficiently advanced technology would overcome these restraints,” (as if the mere existence within a useful distance is something that an alien race could develop.) Meanwhile, the extremely minimal information provided by an odd shape on film, or the incredible ease in which someone could be mistaken (much less simply make a story up for giggles,) never even enters into consideration. I’ve made the comparison before to religion – the belief systems really are remarkably similar, but at least the visitation believers have photos…

    I used to be a believer myself, in my youth, and I wish I could point you to the factor that caused me to completely reverse my stance, but I honestly don’t know what (if anything) was key, or when this occurred. I cannot credit it, to my memory, to any particular person or article or anything, and what I recall most is the gradual realization that a) so many of the accounts were overblown and badly misrepresented by sensational media, and b) so many of the believers couldn’t see any flaws, and in fact actively fought against them when confronted with them. I knew, at least, that I did not want to be that blind.

    [I can at least credit some of it to an article in a long-defunct magazine, based on research done on perception and suggestibility – most likely done or influenced by the work of Dr Elizabeth Loftus, who’s a leading figure in the field. I highly recommend looking into this; knowing how easily we can be influenced towards something that we never saw, or never experienced, is eye-opening, and crucial to understanding ‘eyewitness’ testimony at least.]

    Anyway, that’s my introspective, semi-philosophical sidetrack for the season, or the week or whatever. It’s still winter – you can expect more.

    That’s my cue

    The sleet a few days back was unimpressive, the snow flurries before that almost embarrassing to speak of, but last night we actually got something that looked nice, and so I got out today to fire off a few frames and finally get a little more content here.

    unidentified red berries under snow cap
    It helped that, like usual, we had sunny and clear skies following the storm (which wasn’t really a storm – more like dust settling,) so I had a little more motivation to get outside, though it wasn’t terribly warm. It was a cold, dry snow in fact, the kind that squelches and is impossible to make snowballs from, so The Girlfriend avoided getting pelted. But it made for a few fartsy shots anyway. And no, I still don’t know what those berries are.

    cedar branches with snow load
    The broader vistas weren’t really coming together, partially because I got out there too late and the dog-walkers and kids excitedly trying out their sleds had already marked up the smooth blankets, so I did my usual thing and stayed in close for most of the shots.

    closeup of cedar branch against snow
    Though I’d dialed in some exposure compensation because of the brightness of the snow and sky, I wasn’t bracketing like I should have been, so some of the shots are a little peaked in exposure, but I’m not gonna fret about it. Much.

    A surprising number of plants looked like they were getting a head start on the spring, before this, so there are buds and even flowers to be seen peeking out through the snow, while the daffodils remained on schedule and have not yet appeared here.

    grape holly Mahonia flower spray bursting out from snow cover
    I thought, in passing these grape holly (Mahonia) bushes in the dark the other night, that they appeared to be starting to bloom, and I wasn’t mistaken. Best of luck finding some pollinators right now, but I imagine they’ll bloom again later on. It may look like we got a decent amount of snow from these pics, because it stacked well, but it really wasn’t much – 5 cm or so would be my guess, barely enough to count in New York.

    I hadn’t been around the nearby pond in ages, but had been alerted by a friend the other day that there was a lot of beaver activity going on, so I went out that evening (because beavers are nocturnal) to take a peek, and did indeed spot two, at least, plus plenty of foraging evidence. I have plans to stake them out some night and try for decent photos with the Vivitar 285HV, the highest power flash that I have, but it will still be tricky. For now, however, we have some evidence.

    beaver evidence on trees alongside pond
    Some of the trees being taken down are pretty sizable, so this isn’t casual activity, but it’s also breeding time for the North American beaver (Castor canadensis) and there may be a den someplace. While everyone knows of the lodges in the center of ponds, I’ve never seen one in NC – the beavers have always made bank dens, typically among the roots of a tree right on the water’s edge. My initial observations did not reveal these either, though I have some suspicions. The snow had frozen into a slush/ice sheet on the pond surface, but a couple of narrow broken channels within hinted that the beavers had been active last night, at least a little. And I loved this particular scene.

    beaver tree that never fell
    Yes, that’s floating in midair. Being relatively small and tangled in the branches of the neighboring pine, this one simply shifted sideways a little but remained in place; I would have loved observing the beavers as they broke through and virtually nothing happened. Will I be able to get any shots of such activity? I’m not holding my breath, especially since it’s been too cold overnight for me to stake anything out for very long, and it seems likely that if they show any activity at all, it probably won’t be within range of the lens and flash. But we’ll see, I guess.

    There was a limited amount of bird activity as well.

    buff-colored female mallard Anas platyrhynchos cruising in open water section
    The slush/ice cover wasn’t complete across the pond, and in one corner with overhanging trees, the buff-colored female mallard (Anas platyrhynchos) showed that she and her mate were still hanging around.

    And another avian, who didn’t have a grasp on subtlety despite its feeding habits.

    sharp-shinned hawk Accipiter striatus perched in bare, snowy tree
    I knew, solely from the length of the tail, that this was either a sharp-shinned or a Cooper’s hawk, but they’re almost identical. However, as this one flew off, I got one frame of the spread tail that tells me it was a sharp-shinned hawk (Accipiter striatus.) Before that occurred, however, I crept in a bit closer.

    sharp-shinned hawk Accipiter striatus looking over shoulder
    Even though a couple of people with their dog had just passed underneath not two minutes from our approach, I was being creepy by, well, creeping up on it. None of this cartoon tiptoe or carry a small bush for cover stuff, but I was definitely pausing close by and my attention was clearly on the hawk, so it soon vacated, but not before I got some adequate frames.

    Back home, I tried for a couple of shots that didn’t come out well because I’d only taken the 18-135 with me and not the macro, but I can always return to those. I did, however, peek into the greenhouse to note the progress therein.

    potted Japanese maple leafing out in greenhouse in January
    We have a small heater in there to ensure that it doesn’t drop below 10°c, and the trumpet flowers and one of the Japanese maples find this perfectly adequate – the maple, seen here, is absolutely going to town even when it hasn’t shed its brown leaves from last year.

    We’ll close with one of the azaleas out back, where most of the branches sported a small cap of snow on the ends, supported by the cluster of leaves that is the trait of the bush. The sun’s still low so backlighting was easy, in fact difficult to avoid, and I kinda liked the lens flare effects so I went with this frame. Not trying really hard, but good to be shooting a little at least.

    tiny backlit snow cap atop end of azalea branch

    Visibly different, part 3

    osprey Pandion haliaetus lifting off from bridge
    For years, the image above was the best photo that I’d gotten of an osprey (Pandion haliaetus,) and one of the best bird portraits in my stock. It was largely luck, catching a perched bird on a bridge railing early in the morning and shooting from the car window. It was also the closest I’d gotten to a wild, unrestrained osprey, though I’d handled two in my rehab days (and somewhere I have a couple of photos of one, on negative film.) This one came from the late nineties I believe, shortly after switching to slide film.

    Now we jump forward a couple of decades.

    osprey Pandion haliaetus looking down on photographer with disdain

    mother and nestling osprey Pandion haliaetus on nest
    Both of these were from last year, and the number of osprey images in my stock has grown radically. What’s the significant difference between the first image and these? Mostly, better equipment in the form of a decent lens with twice the focal length, but also just spending the time in areas that osprey frequent. While not every outing will be productive, there’s no denying that you have to spend time around the subjects to receive the best opportunities – and this is far more important than the equipment, not to mention easier (or at least cheaper) to achieve.

    A sharp eye helps a lot too. I spotted the osprey nest from a car in passing, and resolved to return to check it out, then made several return trips to monitor progress. The solitary bird was noticed in a tree in central NY as I was about to drive under it, and I was able to stop almost directly below (I was shooting through an open sunroof, to be honest.)

    Add to that, some of that same blind luck that allowed the first image. All you can do about that is be ready to exploit it. But I must note that, in all those years, I’ve never been closer than in that first photo…

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