Rambles

I’m at Great Camp Sagamore conducting my Photoshop Workshop (see the Workshop page), but I have to mention the nice little nature lesson we got to observe the other day. I was coming down the driveway after taking the dog for his mid-morning constitutional when I noticed something unusual at the end of the walkway—the dog noticed it to. I was concerned that he might try to attack it or at least rush forward to check it out. Neither of which would have been good—for the dog.

It was a large, dark lump with legs. It was a very respectably sized snapping turtle. A snapping turtle mama who was in the process of inspecting our yard for a place to deposit her eggs.

This is the Snapper by the walkway.

Here's a close-up of her "smiling" face. Similar to what I had on my home page last week.

This was about 9:00. She spent the next six or seven hours navigating slowly around the yard before she finally found a place that suited her. She seemed to be extremely discriminating about finding just the right place. But who can blame her? She was just being a conscientious mommy and wanting the very best for her future progeny. I’m not sure she found it, but what do I know about good places to plant turtle eggs? The dog, by the way, seemed to have known instinctively that this was one moving object (slow moving as it was) that he didn’t want to mess with and prudently kept his distance.

Either digging or planting, not sure which--hard to tell.

She eventually settled on a spot, and set about the deliberate and painstaking task of digging a hole and laying her eggs. It was a slow-motion operation, but ultimately a successful one. After she lumbered off toward the water, we were able to mark and protect the spot and now we are in “wait” mode to see what will emerge later this fall.

Burdette

A couple of weeks ago, returning from a little outing in my kayak, with camera of course, I set the waterproof bag containing the camera (not being a complete fool—he says optimistically) on a low bench while I put the boat away. While I was distracted by the boat, something apparently shifted in the camera bag and it fell off the bench. I heard the “clunk” and feeling my stomach do the same thing rushed to the bag. I immediately took the camera out and turned it on. It worked! Relieved, I put it back in the bag and went on about my business.

It wasn’t until a couple of day later that I had occasion to use the camera again. It was one of my early Monday morning sessions—4:30 am and mostly dark. I got the camera all set up on the tripod and got set to take my first picture. It was dark, but not as dark as the camera seemed to think it was. In order to get any image at all, I was having to open the shutter for more than 20 seconds! That was when I realized that the lens aperture was frozen at f/95. In other words, the camera survived the fall, but the lens hadn’t. I managed to get the shots I needed that morning, but it was a long, slow process. The lens that had been on the camera when it fell was the 18mm – 135mm kit lens that come with the D300 and it seems to be toast. So, time for a new lens, since none of my other lenses can handle the wider end of the spectrum on the 300′s APS sensor.

Getting a new lens can be almost as much fun, and as complicated, as getting a new camera—And, I might add, almost as expensive. I decided to not just replace the kit lens, but to do an upgrade while I was at it. After much searching (Thanks, Internet) and no small amount of angst, I decided to go with Nikon’s 16mm-85mm VR lens. It’s my first VR (vibration reduction) lens and so far I like it a lot. The VR feature helps to make up for the smaller apertures the lens has. To go with a similar lens with a larger aperture, like 2.8 or something, would have doubled the cost and I wasn’t quite in the mood for THAT much of an upgrade.

So here are some of the early pics with the new lens. It has a pretty decent macro capability which means I’m able to get in a lot closer than the old lens without having to change out to a dedicated macro lens. Good feature since I do like shooting up close and personal.

One of the first shots with the new lens.

Does well in close too.

Testing the VR feature, it’s very obvious that I’ve been able to get some nice sharp images (it seems to be a good sharp lens anyway) at slow shutter speeds. No question, it’s my new “standard” lens and it’s working.

And sharp. Even hand-held at slow shutter speeds.

Burdette

Tempus Fugit. Actually, “tomorrow” is already two days ago. (You would need to read the previous post to make any sense at all of this opening.) But I did get out early on Monday morning to finish off my Monday Mornings in May series. And boy are May mornings early! I was out with camera in-hand, well on-tripod in fact (morning light can be pretty dim – who knew?), by 4:30 am. Pheeeeuuuww! Final sample in series below.

Morning, May 31, 2010

So that took care of the project. It completed, by definition, the final event of the project. “Monday mornings in May” is a pretty definite timeframe. Defining a project that is so date specific can be a real boon. It automatically sets a couple of the most important parameters of a project. Sometimes knowing, or deciding, when to begin and especially when or how to end a project can be a challenge. Working on a project with built-in time limitations removes that part of the problem. And, since the project began with a clear idea of its finished form, all that remains is to print the combined images and mount and frame it. Another benefit of this particular project was that it was a good reminder of the fact that projects can be small and relatively unambitious and still be worthwhile. To borrow a phrase, it pays to “just do it.”

The image above was shot as the sun was rising and as you can see the air was quite clear. One of the interesting things about that particular morning was how quickly things changed. Here is a picture taken just a couple of hours later – with very different air quality.

Smoky sky.

Smoke from large forest fires burning in the Canadian province of Quebec just to our north blew in and by mid-morning the more distant mountain range was completely obscured and the not-so-distant shoreline was barely visible. Another reminder of how quickly things change and how fleeting any given moment can be. Tempus does indeed fugit.

Burdette