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

I used to think these flowers were from the Dogwood tree, but I’m pretty sure they are actually found on Bradford Pears. I think. Like I’ve said many times on here I’m no botanist or arborist or any kind of -ist, really, but I do like going out and taking pictures (photographist?) of the world around me and that’s really all I did here. This is almost an example of the kind of picture you can get right in your very own back yard, but to apply that common description would be a bit misleading here: this is not, in fact, my own back yard. However, the tree does belong to my neighbor and this branch was hanging over the fence into my yard so I guess it’s really an issue of semantics. In any case, this flower was practically begging to be photographed when I saw it on a bright sunny Saturday afternoon in mid-March and I was glad to oblige.

One of my favorite ways to enjoy photography is simply doing it with another person, and that’s exactly how this image came about. I often find that when I’m walking around taking pictures with someone else I’m able to see things, even familiar everyday objects and scenes, with a fresh, new perspective that brings out a lot of picture-taking opportunities I don’t usually see. I shot this while hanging out in the yard with my brother, his wife, and their kids who came down for a visit over Spring Break while my brother and I were just kind of walking around, our cameras at the ready, catching up on life and looking for some fun photo opportunities. He saw a branch full of flowers bending lazily over the fence, brought his camera and macro lens up to his eye, and started taking some pictures. I felt almost a bit silly right there in the moment: for all my talk about looking for photo opportunities in everyday life, here was a great one that I see literally every single day but didn’t even think about until my brother showed up and put a new perspective on the ordinary.

I quickly followed his lead and started taking some shots of my own, not really expecting much or thinking they would turn into anything particularly special, but when I loaded my RAW files into Lightroom I was pleasantly surprised at what I saw. The rich purples on the petals, the bright blue sky, and the tree branch bisecting the frame and adding a bit of energy to the image, all came together to form a macro shot that I like a lot. It was a really fun reminder about one of those fundamental aspects of photography that I need to remember more often.

If this pictures gives you a bit of deja vu, your brain is probably on to something. It’s remarkably similar to this one I took back in November, and that’s actually the reason I almost didn’t take this week’s picture at all. It seemed too derivative, too uninspired, and possibly even too boring to be an interesting shot. But the thing is, when I saw this jar of sugar sitting on the counter one warm Saturday morning while I was eating breakfast with my son, it just seemed like it was begging to be photographed. So I picked up my D750 and 105mm f/2.8 macro lens, clicked the shutter a few times, and got the image you see here. I like to think of it more as a shot that was inspired by the original five months earlier rather than a cheap sequel or copy of it. Perhaps that’s just some kind of semantic nonsense, but I felt like I learned something by taking this picture and that’s all I need :)

The original shot used a 20-ounce soup mug that I used for tea as its main subject, but in the months since then I have migrated to coffee which I like to sweeten a teaspoon of sugar and a bit of half-and-half. I keep the sugar in this little jar that you see here and, after pouring my second cup of coffee for the morning, I scooped out a bit of sugar and left the jar sitting on the counter while I talked with my son over breakfast. The sun soon cast its morning rays through the kitchen window and the sugar jar began to take on an almost otherworldly appearance: glowing in the golden rays, the sugar inside taking on what almost seemed like its own inner light, the silverware sitting in the dish rack behind sparkling with a particular vibrance that only shows up in that special slice of time right as the day is getting started.

Clearly, I had to capture the moment in photo form.

I shot this at f/3, 1/180 second, ISO 160, and from just a slight upward angle as if to heighten the presence of the jar and showcase the bright points of light dancing off the forks and spoons in the background. I think the shot works pretty well as-is, but if I had to do it again I might do more of a straight-on composition to make the scene feel more homely and less monolithic, like something out of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Even so, the shot does a pretty solid job of capturing the essence of the scene as I saw it while sitting at the table, and is a fun reminder of the beauty that we can find even in everyday ordinary things around us. Like a little jar of sugar.

There are certain immutable, unchangeable, perpetual signs of spring that come around each year regardless of whatever natural circumstances might befall our front yard. Henbit will always cast its purple pass over the brown buffalo grass, thunderstorms will always roll and echo across the plains, and these little yellow crocuses or, as I like to say however outdated and deprecated the plural may be, croci, will burst forth in the alcove between our garage and the east wall of our house. The delicate yellow flowers appear as though on cue, spread their petals during the day, close up tight at night, and then return to the ground after less than a week to remain in hiding until another year passes. It’s natural clockwork, and a fun reminder that winter will certainly end and the cold will too yet pass, and a harbinger of mild days and long evenings soon to come.

The thing is, each year when these little flowers show up I’m just not quite sure what to do with them–photographically speaking, anyway. I always think they will be cool photo opportunities, but when I bust out my camera and get down on the ground and take a few shots, the results never quite look like how I want them to look. I find that it’s often helpful to envision some kind of end result when taking photos and then basically work backwards from there: what do I need to do with my exposure settings, choice of focal lengths, etc., in order to make that happen? Those thoughts usually drive the process and, hopefully, lead to some kind of pleasing end result. With the croci (crocuses?) both the journey and the destination are always a bit of a muddle. That said, I still do enjoy the process and even the end result even if I don’t quite know what I have in mind or what I’m actually doing.

I normally post photos in the order that they were taken. If I take a picture at 2:30pm and then another one at 2:35pm, my usual course of action is to post the first one first, and the second one second. Sometimes it’s just easier to do it that way since it makes logical sense in my mind, but there’s also the educational angle I like to consider too: the latter image will often be informed by something I learned when composing the former image. And while that progression is certainly the case when looking at this week’s image next to last week’s image, I ended up posting them out of order just because I really liked the second one more than the first. And because it’s my blog, I figure…why not :)

Side note in case you’re wondering: These are not mushrooms, nor is there a gorge anywhere nearby. Rather, they remind me of a particularly memorable course from Mario Kart Wii. Not a particularly awesome course, but one that sticks in my mind due to the way it sends all the racers bouncing atop giant mushrooms sticking far into the air. Also, my oldest son wanted me to mention that there is, and I quote, “an insane wall-clipping glitch” on that level that he and his brother invented.

In a lot of ways this is the photo that could have been. It’s a good start, but I think if I could do it differently I would have changed a few things to get a better end result. Overall the composition is fine, but there are two main factors that make this about a C+ or B- instead of a solid A. The first is the focus: At f/9.5 the depth of field is fine, but a smaller aperture would have yielded a much sharper subject while still, I’m pretty sure, giving plenty of blur to the background. Even after more than a year I still don’t quite have a good sense of how apertures work when shooting at very close range on my macro lens, and I almost always end up taking pictures at wider apertures than I really need to. In this case, had I shot at f/16 or f/22 I think I would have gotten a much better result without much in the way of compromise.

The other factor that hinders this image is the exposure. I should have underexposed it slightly and then adjusted in Lightroom, but as it stands the subject is a bit too overexposed and there’s nothing I could do to get it under control. Despite shooting in RAW and having access to all the data captured by the camera sensor, there aren’t really any viable options when there is no data to use at all–which is exactly what you see in the blown-out highlights.

So what do I like about this photos? For one, I think the huge circle of sun blur right behind the subject is pretty awesome. I don’t think I could have planned that better even if I had tried, and it’s something that I am probably not likely to replicate any time soon. I also like the subject in the center paired with another one of these plant-thingeys off to the side and behind it. It lends a sense of three-dimensional space that I think is really cool. Also, I like that my wife said she likes this picture, and at the end of the day I trust her judgement much more than my own :D

Photography is all about capturing light. In fact, the word photography literally means drawing with light. One of the always-challenging but ever-rewarding aspects of learning photography over the years has been refining my ability to see the light in a given scene: where is it coming from? Where is it, like Unicron or Cotton-Eyed Joe, going? Where is the subject in relation to the light? What will happen if I reposition myself, or the light, to change the mood and composition of the image? So many things to think about and, often, so little time during which to think about them. At least that was the case with this week’s photo, anyway. I shot this while out hiking with my family at Lake Carl Blackwell, and while walking down the path I came across this scene:

It wasn’t much to look at, and I nearly just kept on going without giving this dried-up plant any consideration whatsoever. Then I thought about the light and what effect it was having on this subject, and paused to consider this rather unremarkable scene from a photographer’s perspective. From one angle, such as the iPhone shot you see directly above, there was nothing interesting going on whatsoever. But from another angle, with the subject backlit, the entire scene was transformed into something else entirely. No longer a small collection of dry, dusty flora: instead the image came alive with bright highlights around the edges, rich color gradations, and a beautifully-blurred background. I had my Nikon D500 and 105mm f/2.8 macro lens with me, but rather than trying to get as close as possible to this plant I instead just attempted to create an interesting composition regardless of how close or far away I was. What I got is what you see here, albeit with a slight crop in Lightroom in order to remove some empty space on the left. I shot this at f/8 but also took some at smaller apertures and, once again, I was reminded by my macro lens how rarely I really need to shoot with a wide aperture. Even at f/8 the center is tack-sharp while the leaves (or whatever you call them) just to the right and to the left are ever so slightly blurry, which lends a sense of depth to the scene that is, as Goldilocks might say, just right.