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

Several years ago my wife and I got our kids one of those battery-powered bubble makers–the kind that sits on the ground with what looks like a turbine made up of bubble wands with a fan behind it to produce bubbles–and while its daily usage ebbs and flows, it keeps coming up when they need a fun outdoor toy. On a warm day in late August that’s exactly what our boys needed: a reason to get out of the house despite the heat and just blow off some steam. As usually happens they soon found other ways to use the bubble machine, putting it on top of a ladder, whacking bubbles with tennis racquets, and shooting these little colored circles high into the sky with my air compressor. I brought my D500 out to document the excitement, and after getting a few shots of the kids and my wife playing around in the later afternoon heat I found myself chasing individual bubbles to see if I could get a good shot of one.

Turns out it was a bit harder than I thought, for two reasons:

1. Those bubbles would not stay in one place.
2. As soon as I got close to one, it popped.

I ended up looking for slightly larger bubbles floating in the midst of the pack and then, with my eyes fixed on a single one, firing as many frames as I could before its beautiful but vapid existence ended with a slight piff. Autofocus was kind of unreliable because my camera had trouble even figuring out what to focus on, and the path of the bubbles was so erratic it was really difficult to even keep one in the viewfinder.

Nevertheless I did get a couple good shots, and this one ended up my favorite. I like how the bubble is isolated against a dark background, framed by bokeh balls with a bit of a starburst on the top right and bottom left. I also think it’s kind of neat that if you look really closely you can actually see me (or, at least, my blue T-shirt) reflected in the very center. The closest I’ve ever come, if I’m not mistaken, to putting a picture of myself here on Weekly Fifty.

I don’t know if there’s a metaphor here…maybe something about chasing your dreams before they disappear? I dunno. To me this just represents a fun afternoon with my family thanks to nice weather and a bubble machine. And some days that’s all you need :)

Sometimes I’ll say things about a particular photo like “This was a fun photo to take” but those statements often apply to the act of making the image, not necessarily the activity or actions taking place during the scene. That was different here, as the activity was 99% of the enjoyment and the photo was almost an afterthought. Almost.

A few years ago my brother-in-law and I built a water rocket based off some plans that NASA has available, and pretty much anyone with some basic tools and access to a hardware store can construct in an afternoon. I made a few modifications to the launcher mechanism over the years (including the four vertical poles you can see in the image, which serve to guide the rocket straight up instead of shooting outward at kids, cars, or windows. I also use my air compressor instead of a bicycle pump, which makes for a pretty entertaining spectacle when you pull the string to release the rocket.

My kids and I always have a blast (har!) when we get this thing out, and so do any neighborhood kids who happen to be in the area too. The rocket easily goes 100 feet in the air, and since all it takes is a little water and compressed air it can be used over and over. One afternoon this summer we were putzing around (to borrow a phrase from my dad) with the rocket and after several launches I asked my kids if they minded me taking a picture of it, even if it would take several attempts to get it right. They were game for trying, so I got out my D500 and 70-200 f/2.8 lens while we got to work on setting up the rocket.

I found a spot to shoot where the background would be dark, and the sunlight was coming from behind the rocket which I knew would make the water shine and sparkle more than if the light were coming from the front. The tricky part was getting a picture of the rocket at just the right time (like what you see here) which is easier said than done. Once you pull that string the rocket launches so fast you can barely see it, and capturing that instant in time is almost a matter of luck more than anything.

Thankfully the D500 was up to the task: I shot at 10fps and 1/8000 shutter speed (f/2.8, natch) because even 1/4000 was too slow and the bottle looked blurry. It took a few attempts to get this shot but we were all super excited when we looked at the result. It’s amazing to see the texture and contours of the water cascading down the sides of the launch pad, and if you click through to see the high-resolution version on Flickr you can see every tiny detail that you miss when just watching with your eyes.

This is the final picture I took during my trip to the Boundary Waters this summer. I shot this looking northeast out on to Clearwater Lake right from the dock, and if you look very closely in the middle along the right side you’ll see a bit of an Easter Egg, so to speak. A Loon, the state bird of Minnesota, casually swimming in the chilly waters as if to bid us a fond farewell on this overcast morning.

On Tuesday night my cousins and I had a campfire roaring for several hours as we talked long into the evening, but eventually the flames died to embers and we started to tidy up a few things for the trip back home the next morning. What a time it had been–three days completely separated from society, well out of range of any road or radio signal. Just the three of us and our canoe, and we knew the trip was coming to a close. They had been to the Boundary Waters several times before but for me everything was a new first experience and I tried to take in as much as I could and enjoy, as well as appreciate, everything from the fishing to the rowing to the sitting around and talking. But when the sun goes down and the lights go out and you know it’s time to close things down, there’s not much else to be done but head for bed and wait for the morning. Soon I was in my hammock listening to the sounds of crickets…and that’s when I felt the first raindrop.

Soon a drizzle became a downpour, and it didn’t let up all night. I slept fitfully, thinking about the sort of things you might expect of a new camper like myself: did I pack everything securely? Did we pull the canoe up on shore? Will everything be wet in the morning? What if the rain doesn’t let up? And on and on it went, with me slipping in and out of sleep all night long until about 6am when I resigned myself to the forces of nature. I got up, started gathering my things and taking down my hammock, and looked for some energy bars that were in the bottom of my soggy pack. The rain was unrelenting, and the three of us slowly packed everything into the canoe and an hour later we were on the water and on our way back home.

But nature was not done with us yet.

We had to paddle the length of Caribou Lake against the wind while the rain fell in sheets all around us. It was over three miles and while I don’t know how long it took, it felt like days. We were in good spirits through it all, because we knew there was nothing to be done and complaining wouldn’t help, but by the end were simply exhausted. Then we had to portage all of our water-logged gear over to Clearwater Lake and do it all over again.

It was not an easy task. But it was one I am glad to have done, and I do not believe I have ever been so relieved to put my feet down on a sandy beach in all my life. Clearwater Outfitters, where we rented the canoes and some other gear, is in a cove that keeps the waters calm so you can’t really tell how windy it was just from looking at this picture, but my goodness it felt like mythical Aeolus himself was against us. And at the end of it all I wanted one last picture to document the events, which is what you see here. It’s a quick snapshot from my iPhone, and it might not look like a whole lot to you, but for me there’s some really intense memories wrapped up in this single frame.

And that’s why I like photography :)

This photo marks a first for me. It’s either a really big deal or nothing at all depending on your perspective, and honestly it probably isn’t anything to raise a fuss over whatsoever. It’s just that this image is different than any other I have posted on Weekly Fifty. Ever. For one simple reason: it’s the first time I’ve shared a picture that I took with my cell phone.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those purists who thinks that real photographers have to use a fancy-pants expensive camera, or that real photography requires expensive dedicated camera gear. Shoot what you like with the gear you have, and don’t worry what anyone else thinks. At least that’s my general approach, and it has worked pretty well for me over the years. The reason I started Weekly Fifty was to hold myself accountable for using my camera gear more and, as a result, grow as a photographer. Because of that I have only ever shared pictures that I have taken with my cameras and not, well, my phone camera.

In this case though, I have to make an exception: there’s no way I was going to bring one of my dedicated cameras on a canoe trip across two portages in the middle of absolutely nowhere just south of the Canadian border. I did bring my Fuji X100F with me on this particular trip, which I used for two sunset photos that I posted a few weeks ago, but that camera, though small, is not exactly pocketable and not at all waterproof. Thus, when my cousins and I set out for a day-long canoe trip from our campsite across some portages in search of a waterfall, the only camera I felt comfortable bringing was my iPhone. (Which just happens to have a bit of water resistance.)

I got this shot as we were paddling across the eastern tip of Pine Lake on a warm day in June with me taking up the middle position in the canoe. It wasn’t exactly the type of scenario where I could position our watercraft just so to get the perfect shot, so I just put my paddle down, grabbed my phone, and made the best of what I had to work with. I took a few pictures mostly paying attention to the horizon line (I didn’t want it too high or too low in the frame) and the clouds overhead, and of the half dozen shots I was able to snap this was my favorite. There’s no editing here, just an image straight from my iPhone camera, though I believe the built-in software plays a bit with the highlights and shadows to get an even exposure even if the end result looks a tad HDR-ish at times.

I’m really pleased with how this turned out: you can see miles into the distance and I think it captures a sense of how remote the BWCA really is. A remoteness I had never before experienced, and hope to once again someday.

I realize that this picture seems like it has very little to do with perambulating, but part of the title is just the simple fact that I’m not very good at coming up with titles. In typical Simon fashion I don’t know what kind of flower this is, but I do know that it’s big. Large. Huge. At least by my reckoning, anyway. My wife and I walk by this flowering plant every morning on our usual route while our kids bike up ahead, and for a while now I’ve thought about taking a picture because it’s just such an interesting flower to look at. Most days I simply forget to bring my camera and on days when I do remember there’s usually some kind of aesthetic issue: bad lighting, harsh shadows, or the flower itself is a bit closed-up and not very photogenic.

On this particular morning I don’t think I struck photographic gold or anything, but it was a rainy, overcast morning and I do think it made for some good lighting and a nice bit of texture with the damp petals making the pinks and reds just a shade or two richer. I brought my D500 and 85 f/1.8 lens so I could get some shots of the kids on their bikes, but turns out that camera/lens combo worked great for this picture too. I shot this at f/2.8 because that lens isn’t all that sharp wide open and depth of field is super difficult to control at f/1.8, and f/2.8 still gave me plenty of background blur while making all important parts of the flower as sharp as a tack. I played around with composition a bit, shooting from different angles until I got a background that I liked: the street receding into the distance, with the flower mostly against dark earthy colors instead of the sky. I kind of wish it were a bit more isolated with that second flower in the background not present, but I didn’t want to go altering the scene or, worse, damaging the plant just to get a shot. Besides, I know the guy who lives here and I don’t think he would like it too much if I went around bending and poking his plants while snapping some photos.