Is not the Optio by Pentax the biggest shaft ever put to a paddlers hide? I'm on my 3rd. The W60 is the first one that actually stayed working for more than one season. Working, just long enough for the lens to do it's impersonation of the record from Monty Python's Hungarian phrasebook sketch. "I will not by this camera, It is scratched." Of course it is. There's no freaking lens cap!
The camera is like an uneven path in a Japanese garden. It forces you to slow down and pay attention to the world around you. Photography is a gift you give yourself. You need not sell or even display your work to benefit. Most of the pictures I take ultimately are deleted or thrown away and still I have pleasant memories of those moments, even when nothing caught in the camera turned out. Still, if you click the shutter enough you are bound to have a few successes.
These pictures are my very first attempts and making HDR work for for me. I took these shots yesterday. The day was a classic dark, cloudy, colorless November day. Both were taken in a little natural area called Pewit's Nest which back in the 60s was still on private property and a popular party spot for the local teens. Here Skillet Creek carved a deep gorge with 100ft sandstone cliffs and flows through a series of water falls and deep pools. When I got home and blended the different exposures I found that you could spend hours trying to get the surreal feel blended out of the final image.
Sometimes... like yesterday for instance, I'll head out of doors as soon as the sun comes up and putter around our tiny 3/4 an acre yard. I'll weed gardens while the leaves are still wet with morning dew, prune a tree branch I keep seeing in the more active part of the day when I'm in the middle of doing something else, or maybe just stroll around with my coffee in one hand and my camera in the other..
I've got a phone conference with a client coming up in about an hour and all sorts of other businessy bits to deal with today... so all you get for stopping by today (at least for now) is this photograph of my Rockpool Alaw Bach waiting to take me on an early morning paddle up the Lake Michigan coastline toward the Point Beach lighthouse. Sometimes a photograph is almost like being there... sometimes a photograph just clarifies where you really are.
The folks on the northwest coast always warn you that when the sky is dark and gray for days you simply have to get out and stay active. So yesterday under the pressured, claustrophobic squeeze of heavy clouds I drug everyone along to explore another section of the 400 Trail. Of course the problem with me and clouds is my perspective get's a big ah, filtered...