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

Something about this bit of kitschy lawn art struck me, though I’m not exactly sure why. Those glass balls have clearly gone out of style in recent years, but I kind of liked the way the angel statue was holding it while sitting in a wagon. You don’t see Radio Flyer wagons like that much anymore, and this one had clearly seen a lot of use in its day. I like to think that this wagon spent years toting kids around and is now living out its remaining days in relative peace and quiet. But if any neighborhood children dared to ask the owners if they could take it for a ride, they would chuck the statue and let them take it out for a spin in a heartbeat.

Another photo opportunity I came across while out walking with my son, this bike rack we found outside a local elementary school has apparently been in use for more than seven decades. A lowly bike rack is the kind of thing one might easily dismiss and ignore while strolling past or chaining up a bicycle, but it’s somewhat inspiring to think that local schoolkids have been using the same instrument to secure their bikes as their grandparents once did. As this metal contraption, donated by the local Lion’s Club, was being installed outside the elementary school, American GIs were off fighting the Axis powers on the other side of the world. Alaska and Hawaii had not even joined the union. Baseball was still segregated. The United Nations had not even been formed.  Suffice it to say, this bike rack has seen an incredible slice of history.  Sure the ol’ rusty metal contraption could use a new coat of paint, but it’s still just as functional as it was 72 years ago. And that’s something we can’t say too often in this day and age anymore.

Pausing to ponder this makes me think about what else around me I take for granted on a daily basis, and how critical it is to preserve the artifacts from our history that tell us so much not only about who we are, but where we have been and ultimately where we are going.

I was walking around with my son on a nice day recently, and came across this small tree that had been decimated by some landscapers. I’m not sure why they sliced and diced the trunk after felling the tree, but I assume it’s a way of ensuring that the tree will be gone for good. Leaving all those gaping wounds no doubt allows for moisture and insects to permeate the stump and speed the decomposition process. Still, I can’t help but think of new beginnings when I see things like this: no doubt the tree was removed for a reason, which was likely so another one (or more) could be planted in its place. At least, that’s the story I’m going to tell myself :)  I also took another version of this photo from directly overhead which you can see on my Flickr page which I think is interesting but not as compelling.  It’s not entirely obvious that the photo is of a tree, and it doesn’t have the same sense of depth and context that this one does.

This is also the first Weekly Fifty photo I have taken with my new Nikon D7100, and I must say I am pleased with the results. If you click through to the Flickr page and view the image at a larger size you will notice how sharp and detailed the bark on the stump is, and while I think my D200 could achieve similar results at low ISO values, it’s nice to know the D7100 leaves plenty of room for cropping afterwards as well.

I don’t know if these are actual berries or not, or just some red seeds that happen to look like their fruit-based counterparts, but I liked how they were covered in ice after a recent day of freezing rain. The sun was just peeking over the horizon out of frame, which added a nice glow to the frozen bulbs.  When I went out to take this photo I promised my wife I would only be gone for a few minutes, because I didn’t want to leave her stranded with two kids to dress and feed while I was out tromping around in the snow with my camera.  Because of that time limitation I had to find some subjects to photograph in relatively short order, and thus I ran over to our neighbor’s house where I found these red berries/seeds/whatever encased in ice like Han Solo in carbonite.  I tried several angles to get the shot I wanted, but to be honest I wasn’t entirely sure just what shot I was even going for in the first place.  After a little while I realized that rather than shooting into the bushes I could point my camera outwards and use the morning sunrise for a bit of backlighting.  I shot this at f/4 which, in retrospect, might have been a bit too wide.  There’s a time for everything under the sun, and not every photograph calls for ultra-shallow depth of field.  A smaller aperture would have mitigated the issue with the big blurry branch jutting vertically through the middle section of the photo, but then, I do like how the viewer’s eye is brought to the red seeds on the right-hand side instead.  But photography is all about experimentation, and if nothing else this gives me a few things to try the next time we get a freezing rain.

Normally these little guys are always on the move, but I think this one was looking around for food and didn’t really care too much about the weirdo pointing a lens in his face.  This photo was almost a classic case of camera regret in that I walked past him while taking a box of stuff to my car, and for a few frustrating seconds wished I had brought my camera with me. It was back at my office and I thought there was no way this bird would stay put in the meantime. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try though, so a few minutes later I returned with my trusty D200 and 50mm lens, and much to my surprise this roadrunner was still hanging around by the west side of Murray Hall. The next part was tricky though, because I had to get quite close in order to take his photo. Since prime lenses have no zooming functionality this meant I had to creep closer on my hands and knees while doing my best to not disturb the little fella. He didn’t seem to mind too much, and let me pop off a couple of shots before rushing off to find some insects or small animals to munch on.