As I look at my photo archives I realize that as of late my albums bear rather generic titles. In some ways it’s as if I’m just randomly throwing crap into the ocean of the internet. Looking at the results though I can’t help but feel quite a bit of pride. Each day that I bother to take photos I feel as if I come back with something pretty interesting despite the fact that my planning is exceptionally minimal. I enter each day with very few intentions and yet good still seems to result. On some deeper level I can’t help but ponder what that means. Am I just casting my lucky chafe to the wind or is there some larger statement being made? I like to think that the statement in question is simply that “the world is beautiful all by itself if you will only take time to look!” For every picture I do take there are a dozen that I cannot that I wish I could. Our world really is a beautiful one but how many of us actually take the time to realize that? While those who bear the official title of “professional photographer” click away at the same rehearsed, banal, redundant poses, I’m hopeful that some of us will still spend the time to capture the natural world as it is, without embellishment. OK, enough philosophy. How about some photos?
Over the past week or so I’ve been fiddling about with the idea of letting the camera do what it’s good at when it comes to time-lapse photography. Until this week I’ve been very strictly following the idea that you pick an exposure and let the camera carry on with it throughout the life of the video. This was advice received very early on and it made sense since you typically want a video to be exposed consistently. This week it’s become apparent that modern equipment is much smarter than the human eye so I’ve let the light meter do it’s job. As a result, I’ve managed to span the day-to-night transition quite adequately. (Though I do tend to go out and max out the exposure time at 6 seconds as light levels drop so the timing stays in step)
Today I spent a fair amount of time on the ground. These dandelions could not be resisted against the morning sun. (Oh, as usual, you can see the day’s whole album online.)
Later in the day, Laura and I spent a good hour chasing these Tree Swallows around the Celery Bog.
As usual, there were always plenty of Flowers.
Spring is sprung, and what would spring be without the six-spotted tiger beetle?
At the end of the day, there was, of course, more yard fluff to look at. I’m endlessly fascinated by dandelions. Those barbs remind one of a really terrible weapon of some sort.
And what would any day outside be without a shy spider.
The last shot of this post strikes me as … well, very touchingly maternal. I’ve had many shots that people didn’t really appreciate until I wrapped a few words around them. This one just makes me think so much of parenthood. The dandelion is spent, its seeds exhausted, yet it looks back on this long line of hopeful seeds finding their way into the wind. It’s tragic and yet hopeful all at once. In retrospect I’m not exactly sure how this shot was even possible. It was just waiting there for me to find it.
As I sit here at almost 1am, my mind wanders a bit from the creative to the material. Today when Laura and I were out shooting it became evident to me that her camera is starting to creep towards its last legs. Auto-focus is becoming increasingly questionable, sensitivity in the sensor is starting to decline. She’s using my Canon 20D which is a hand-me-down that I bought used several years ago. Her artistic desire is strong yet her equipment is failing. Many times on this blog I’ve gone on about how art, especially that drawn from the simplest realities of the world, should be free. It’s times like this though, with old equipment starting to fail that I wish my viewpoint was a tad more materialistic. New cameras do not buy themselves no matter how altruistic the intentions.