Oh, I need it! Oh, I need your help!

VOLUME UP! (I SO LOVE THIS!)


Thank you Sue W.

Monday Morning (Epilogue)

Yesterday’s post, yesterday’s comments. Loved them. Link here.

The ask was: “Two different cameras, shot taken 1 minute apart, two different perspectives. What’s your favorite?” Same photos above.  Here’s my take.

  1. I didn’t really See them until I was at my desk, at home. Wow. What a difference!
  2. One taken with a camera that had dials for aperture, for shutter speed, for exposure compensation.  So it had to be better.
  3. One had a separate, expensive zoom lens. So, it had to be better.
  4. One camera was so much bigger than the other. And was made for still photography. And was so much more expensive then the other. So it had to be better.

Photo 1: Came from an iPhone, zoomed 2x. No other alterations.

Photo 2: Came from a Fuji X-T4 with a 50mm x 140mm zoom lens. No alterations.

I stared at the iPhone photo.  I wasn’t there. Not with this scene. Not with these vibrant colors. Yet, I was drawn to this photo. “Warmer” (Beth, Darlene, Jnana, Michael, yes.) “Better composition with light and dark contrast.” (Jnana, Lori, yes.) “Bright, depicts the awakening of life…under the kiss of blush” (Christie, Louise.  Yes.)

No. No. But it just can’t be.  It had to be an aberration.

So I did it all over again this morning. Except this time, I took 20 shots with each camera.

Result: Same.

Can’t be the camera. Can’t be. Has to be the Operator. What an amateur.  Can’t be the camera. Not with the money sunk into this device.

I’m standing under a hot shower a few minutes later, thinking about the photos.

I think I need a Canon.


Inspired by Jnana Hodson‘s review of my shots —  some day I hope to see and be 50% as good Jnana.

“The top one, though I would try to level the water to flat horizontal rather than its current slight tilt. It’s warmer and speaks of sunrise. The bottom photo is tonally too muddy. There’s no light detail and no distinctly dark contrast. Also, the right side of the shot lacks the compositional closure the bit of land gives the top shot, balancing the land on the other side, even though the power lines are a bit of clutter. That detail invites the eye out into the bay beyond before returning to the heron or egret in the foreground.”

T.G.I.F.: Riding Metro North


Working from home but missing Metro North.

(Source: u/czmanix. Thank you Ray.

Miracle. All of It.

It’s 5:52 a.m., yesterday morning.

I’m done with The Cove Park portion of my 5 mile walk, and it’s the last 7/10s of a mile in the home stretch. On asphalt. Through the side streets. Heading home.

I’m tired. I’m dragging. And my head has shifted to Work.

I slip the cap on the lens while I’m walking (because one cannot waste precious minutes).  I tuck the camera into the sling, zip up the bag, and swing it over my shoulder. I accelerate my pace. And practice my breathing as instructed by James Nestor. (Because he’s so deep into my consciousness, I can’t take 10 breaths without thinking about his instruction.)

I round the corner onto Anthony Lane and hear a rustle.

And there they are. The two of them. Staring at me.

I freeze.

They freeze.

Please. Please don’t move. I slide my sling from back to front, and start unzipping the bag. I don’t take my eyes off them.

Please. Please don’t move. I don’t know anything about shutter speed. Continuous bursts. Or whatever-the-Hell-else I need to catch you in motion.

I grab the camera. My hands shake, the lens hood flies off and hits the ground. The lens cap follows and rolls a foot or two on the shoulder. My God Man. Get a Grip. You’re going to blow this.

Jack turns to his brother: “Is this amateur hour?  Can you believe this guy?”  “No sh*t. I’m getting tired of posing here.”

I raise the camera.

I see a thin film through the view finder. OMG, the humidity is fogging up the lens.

It clears.

And then comes the camera shake. I tuck my elbows in tight to my body. My breaths are short and quick, hot little puffs.

I move my index finger to the shutter, ever so gently.

I zoom in on my targets.

Now!

And Bam! I got it!  And another. And another. And another. And another.

They turn to walk to the woods.

I watch them disappear.

Wow, so Beautiful.  Miracle, all of it.


Notes:

  • Photos: Mine! A Miracle! July 27 2020.
  • Post Inspired by Kiki. She told me that if I didn’t share this story, she would send the Dale and Sawsan posse after me. So here it is.
  • Post title Inspired by Albert Einstein’s quote: “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

Monday Morning: Back to Work?

#justsaying from poppins-me


Notes: Image via poppins-me

Truth


Source: Hartley Lin (formerly known by the pseudonym Ethan Rilly) is a cartoonist based in Montreal, Canada. Young Frances, the first collection from his ongoing comic book Pope Hats, won the 2019 Doug Wright Award for Best Book. He has drawn for The New Yorker, The Hollywood Reporter, Slate, Taddle Creek and HarperCollins. (via thisisn’thappiness)

Walking. In Search of my Spirit Bird.

4:25 am. I’m out the door. Dark Sky app recap: 74° F, 100% humidity, cloud cover 89%.

It’s dark. A wafer thin haze hangs below the street lamps.

I walk.

A firefly flickers, gets caught up in a light wind gust, and disappears. And at that moment, unexplainably so, I felt Small, Little, against the backdrop of the World. This flickering, illuminating, little miracle. “What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.” (Crowfoot, the Blackfoot warrior, 1890)

Me and Crowfoot?  Crowfoot and me? Crowfoot and I? Oh, for God Sake, let it go.

I walk.

Same route. 5-mile loop. Since May 5th, daily, without interruption. Same camera bag sling, slung over my right shoulder, camera affixed with strap to right wrist. The Autonoman

Raccoon up ahead, picking away at the remains of road kill. He skitters away as I approach. Sprinkler systems fire off at 4:30 am, hissing as water hits the street.

I walk.

I note the silence. This narrow slice of time, before daybreak. Nocturnal creatures and me. Afraid of horror movies, the dark and tripping in a pothole and taking a header, I march through the suburban streets on my way to the waterfront.

I take my first shots of The Cove, high tide.  And 78 additional shots that morning.  Little did I know, that 90 minutes later I would learn that all but 10 photos, would be blurry because of some dial I inadvertently depressed. Fuming, at my desk panning through the photos, rubbing my eyes, thinking it’s my f*cking eyes going, because it just can’t be this expensive camera. I move closer to the screen. It’s not my eyes.  My God. You are an Amateur. What a waste. [Read more…]

Walking. Anybody Can Do This. (Not)

2:30 a.m., I’m wide awake, ready to start the day. Hello Day!

It’s a few hours before I set off on the 55th consecutive day of a five-mile walk to greet the sunrise at Cove Island Park.

I’m anxious to see what’s in store for me this morning. And worried that I might sleep through the 4:55 am to 5:15 a.m. peak feeding time for the waterfowl. Normal people set an alarm. I have four gadgets on the night stand next to me ready to jump into action. But for some reason I can’t explain, I don’t. I can’t. A life time of never needing an alarm to get up, I’m not going to start now. I don’t change. And, let’s face it, You don’t either.

4:25 a.m.  I gather up the camera gear. I double check to find the memory card is in its place — the recollection of backtracking 1.5 miles three days ago, getting soaked by a sprinkler system that turned on at 5 a.m., cursing the rest of the way home, and needing to take the car to the park for fear of missing feeding time. All of this is fresh. And it ain’t going to happen today.

I throw the sling around my shoulder. Take a long swig of ice cold water. And I’m out the door.

Photography.  Camera. New hobby thing. Mixing it up a bit.

I’ve watched hundreds of instructional videos on Youtube. Paged through the camera user manual – a lot of damn good this did.  Texted back and forth with a buddy who gave me some tips.

ISO. Shutter speed. Aperture.  Exposure Compensation. Continuous tracking. EVF. LCD. Autofocus. Manual Focus. Single Point. Zone. Wide Angle. Tracking. Single shot. Burst. Still. Video.  Good God. My Head is spinning.

Then add to the soup, small (very) buttons. A small, sensitive touchscreen. Clumsy, large hands. Not yet arthritic, thank God, not yet anyway, something to look forward to. Throw in farsightedness, and you have menus and pop-ups jumping in and out. And blood pressure surging. Jesus, I’m of average intelligence, it just can’t be this hard.

And forget the quality (and breathtaking expense) of the camera equipment, lenses, battery (and back up), and memory cards, there’s so much more to this Photography-thing that was lost on me. [Read more…]

T.G.I.F.: It’s been a long week

In your house for days on end,
Hours, minutes, weeks all blend.
Boredom, hunger, Tiger King.
Food depleted, you need some things.
And though I shouldn’t need to ask,
When you go out, please wear a mask.


Source: covidbookcovers

T.G.I.F.: Truth


Source: Thisisn’thappiness

 

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