Exploring the wonders of creation through a 50mm lens...and other lenses too.

One of my longstanding conventions here on Weekly Fifty is that I don’t really create my posts to coincide with any particular point in time. I take pictures often and then schedule them weeks, sometimes even months, in advance so as to give me plenty of buffer in case I just don’t have the time, patience, opportunity, or let’s face it, mental energy to get my camera out and take a new photo every single week. As such, I often don’t even know when a given image will get published until I write the entire post and then click the “Schedule” button in WordPress. Where I’m going with this is, here we are on the cusp of a brand new year and the picture I have to go along with it is…a couple of leaves. It’s a fine photo, but there’s not much in terms of symbolism or meaning–not that you can attach to turning the calendar to a whole new year.

Though perhaps there is something to be mined, or gleaned, from this picture of a handful of leaves changing from green to yellow to bronze. It’s an illustration of the passage of time, of the constant nature of change, and the hope of better things to come even in periods of uncertainty. Leaves wither and die, only to be replaced by buds of new life. It’s also a bit ironic when you consider the overall composition of the image: the bright subject at the center of the frame is actually the leaf that is closest to withering away. Is any of this a metaphor, and if so, what does it mean? I honestly don’t know and at some point this kind of overanalysis becomes not only reductive but counter-productive. At the end of the day it’s just a picture of some leaves with cool backlighting, so maybe it’s best to just leave it at that.

It was that very backlighting that really drew me to this scene. I liked how the low sun made the leaf in the center glow with life even as it was drying up, but I also thought the interplay of light and shadow was kind of cool too. Only part of the subject is clearly visible; the upper half and part of its side are shrouded in darkness, as are other parts of the surrounding leaves. It’s something I don’t often do in my photos, and I find it not just interesting but compelling, in a sense, and something I might try looking for more often.

And with that I’ll wrap up this post by wishing you all a very happy new year. Whatever it holds for you and your loved ones, I hope meet the opportunities, blessings, and challenges with love, grace, patience, and kindness for your fellow man (or woman) on this pale blue dot we call home. God bless you, and thanks for being a part of Weekly Fifty.

You probably know by now that my go-to gear setup for taking Weekly Fifty photos is a Nikon D750 and 105mm macro lens. After acquiring, and then extensively using, a small but not-too-shabby collection of camera gear over the years it is this combination that I keep returning to because it just does such a phenomenal job in almost every photographic situation in which I find myself. I haven’t done an official inventory, but I would guess that about 90% of the photos I have shared on Weekly Fifty this year (and probably last year) were taken with this camera/lens combination. However, and you probably could tell that this was coming, there are some situations where it just isn’t all that great. The most obvious is, of course, any time that a true telephoto lens would just get better results–particularly when it comes to nature and wildlife. Even simple shots of a squirrel, like you see here, are much easier with a zoom lens or telephoto prime with a focal length of at least 200mm.

And yet, that’s not to say these kinds of photos are impossible with other lenses such as a 105mm. They just require a bit more patience, practice, and to be honest, luck. I often have my camera in hand as I circumnavigate the OSU Theta Pond, but unless I also have my 70-200mm zoom lens it’s just not that easy to get pictures of the squirrels, geese, and other animals hanging around the are. And because that lens is heavy and cumbersome, well, it usually gets left at home in favor of the 105mm or even the classic 50mm lens that started it all. What can I say? It’s the reality of the situation. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll get the 150-600mm Sigma lens I’ve kind of, sort of, had my eye on for a few years. Until then, though, patience is the name of the game and that’s what we’ve got here with this squirrel picture.

I saw this rascally little rodent circling one of the cypress trees near the pond and even though I just had my usual camera/lens combination, I thought I would make a go of it and see if I could get a good, or even halfway decent, shot. Taking photos of squirrels with a 105mm lens is tricky, but not impossible, and sometimes it’s nice to have a bit of a challenge. It mostly meant moving slowly, waiting, moving a bit more, waiting some more…you get the idea. Eventually he held still long enough for me to fire off just a couple of clicks of the shutter, and honestly, I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I like that the squirrel’s pose is more interesting than if he were just sitting there minding his own business. It’s like we’re engaged in a bit of a face-off, him wondering what I’m up to and me just hoping he holds on for just a few more seconds while I take his photo. Thankfully, he did :)

I shot this at f/5.6 to keep the depth of field under control, 1/180 second to minimize motion blur, and ISO 400 because that’s what my camera decided to use in Auto-ISO. If you zoom in super close you might find a few things to nit-pick, but overall I think it turned out just fine. I haven’t taken a photo like this in a good long while, and who knows, maybe one of these days I’ll bring the ol’ zoom lens, leave the 105mm at home, and see what else I might be able to get.

Finally, as this image just happens to be posted on December 25, and is also the last one of the year, allow me to wish you all a very merry Christmas and a happy, blessed, and joy-filled new year. Thank you for being part of Weekly Fifty, and here’s to a 2026 full of photographic possibilities 📸

Welcome to another Year in Review! Join me as I look back on the past year, share my top three photos, talk a bit about AI, show a few of the pieces of gear I have used, and look ahead to 2025 and beyond. It’s been another great year here at Weekly Fifty, and I couldn’t do it without all of you :)

Check out the podcast my brother Phil and I are doing, which is all about parenting and photography: Camera Dads

This is a photo I have been thinking about taking for months, but until recently I simply did not have the opportunity to do so. One of my friends at work has several dozen tiny colored glass ducks lining the top of her cubicle walls, and it’s the kind of scene that’s just ideal for a close-up shot with a macro lens. The problem is, our cubicle walls are about seven feet high so taking a shot like this requires a tripod and a bit of time to set it up. As a result, there aren’t many opportunities to get a picture of these little ducks. However, one morning recently I decided to finally make the shot happen and I’m so glad I did.

I got to work early before anyone else was in my department, set up my tripod with each leg resting on a chair, stood on a stool, and took the shot. I played around with the aperture a bit, but ultimately decided that this one at f/16 gave me just the right amount of depth of field: the entire yellow duck is in focus, while those on either side of it are not and the background recedes into a beautiful blurry rainbow of color and light. I didn’t need to do any cropping, and the only editing (aside from my usual color adjustments like white balance, exposure, etc.) was cleaning up some dust and dirt using the manual (i.e. not AI-powered) spot-removal tool in Lightroom.

The only thing that bums me out just the slightest bit about this image is the yellow duck is set against a yellow background. If I had been paying more attention in the moment I would have simply swapped the position of the yellow and purple ducks, but the one thing that ultimately redeems the image is the shiny lights dancing on the surface of the subject. Were it not for those I think the yellow duck would melt right into the background and the shot would be…well…not ruined but not nearly as good. Ah well, you live and you learn, eh? And who knows, maybe someday I’ll try the shot again just to see if I can improve it a bit.

It’s not uncommon to walk past the rows of bushes and shrubberies on the Oklahoma State University campus and see birds sitting on top of them, just kind of hanging out and going about their day. The problem, from a photographic perspective, is that these little avian friends often flutter away before I can get close enough to take their picture. Not always, but most of the time, and as a result it’s just not easy to get the kind of shots that I’m often going for. Not with the lenses I usually have with me, anyway. So when I saw this feather resting where its owner once sat, I thought I might as well use it as the next best thing to actually capturing an image of a bird.

The basic idea with this composition is really, really simple. It’s a single easily-identifiable subject set against a blurry background. There’s nothing else to distract the viewer, and in that sense it’s also kind of boring and pedestrian. And yet, there’s a sense of activity present because of the nature of the subject. You get the feeling that the feather could flit away at the slightest breeze, and you just so happen to be catching a glimpse of it before it disappears. So while it’s not exactly groundbreaking in terms of how the shot is composed, there’s still something of value here and I like the sense of peace and calm that it tends to instill.

I shot this with my 105mm macro lens at f/5.6 to get the depth of field under control, and if you click through on the image to the original file on Flickr you’ll see a ton of detail in the individual white strands on the feather–the kind of thing you just can’t capture with a mobile phone. You might also notice how the feather seems to be resisting the wind ever so slightly, with some strands bent one way and others bent in the opposing direction. It all lends to the overall sense of kinetic energy while at the same time seeming still and composed.

This is one of those pictures that, like others I have shared recently, is just fun to take. It’s not going to upend the photography world, but I enjoy the result and I got to practice my image-creation skills so that’s a win in my book :)