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

Almost every year when my family gets together at Milford Lake, Kansas, I like to go out at least one evening and take a picture of the sunset. Views like this aren’t something I see in my normal daily life in Oklahoma, so it’s fun to be able to try different kids of shots compared to my normal repertoire of bugs, insects, and scenes from Theta Pond on the OSU campus. While most of my family was up at the campfire I stole away for a few minutes to run down to the beach, set up my camera, and see if I could get something maybe a tad different from the similar compositions I had created in previous years. Not that there’s anything wrong with repeating a photo year after year, and I have certainly done just that more than a few times in the past decade or so, but it’s also fun to try something new. Novel, perhaps, or at least novel to me if not to other nature and landscape photographers.

What I eventually came up with was the idea of using my D750, 50mm lens, and 10-stop ND filter to smooth out the water (of course) but also to create a sense of wistful peacefulness in the foreground. Instead of focusing on the treeline with the setting sun in the background, I instead found a chunk of rock sticking up from the water right near the shore and got that nice and sharp even though it meant the background would be a bit blurry. (One of the consequences of a relatively inexpensive lens like the Nikon 50mm f/1.8G is that you sacrifice a small aperture; f/16 is as low as this lens will go, which means super deep focus is kind of out of the question. C’est la vie.) I set my ISO to 100, my shutter speed to 30 seconds, and got this image which is quite unlike most of the other pictures I can recall taking. It looks like the rock is shrouded in a fog or mist, but it’s really just small waves lapping against it as a hushed breeze barely breathed across the surface of the waters.

This was a fun picture to take and one that I hope to revisit in the future, possibly with the light behind me instead of in front of me, but that goes to show that if nothing else this at least gives me some new ideas to try which is always a good thing when it comes to photography :)

Last week I wrote (and spoke) about how the shot of a dragonfly, when compared to a similar picture from seven years prior, was evidence of just how much I have learned in the time between the two. This image, while similar to one that I took a few months ago, isn’t so much an example of what I have learned but how earlier shots can inform later shots. This hummingbird moth is closing in on a white ball of…something? (I’m still not sure what in the world these flower-ish things are, but they must taste good to bees, moths, and other insects.) When I saw the animal flitting from one bulbous protrusion to the next on the shores of Milford Lake, Kansas, I immediately thought of this picture of a similar situation that I took in my very own back yard in April. I knew I didn’t want to re-create the original backyard shot as much as I wanted to use what I learned from it to create something new. I’m not entirely sure it worked, and in the end I think I prefer the original to its more recent counterpart, but the entire process was an exercise in education and personal growth which is what really matters in the end.

What I really wanted to capture in the image you see above is a sense of energy, especially as it relates to light. The original photo from my back yard is evenly lit, which is to say that the entire shot is shrouded in shade. This is great for creating a nice sense of uniformity, but there are other, more creative, ways to use light to elevate an image. That’s what I wanted to do here. The moth you see in this shot was one of several hovering around this patch of lakeside greenery, but I specifically chose to put myself in a position such that I would be more likely to get a picture of one when the sun was behind it. See the transluscent glow on the moth’s wings, the bright colors of its curling proboscis, and the vibrant energy of the white bulb? That’s all due to backlighting, and you won’t find any of this in my photo of a hummingbird moth from April. So in that sense, I consider this image pretty great :)

However, what I didn’t quite nail here was the position of the moth and, as such, the focal point of the composition isn’t quite what I want it to be. The moth is facing slightly away from my camera and, as a result, you can’t see its face or eyes clearly. It’s not a dealbreaker per se, but I do wish I could have gotten this same overall composition but with a better view of the animal’s face. I don’t say this to be self-critical, but just to examine the image and see what I like and don’t like, and then see what I can learn from it.

One of my favorite things to do as a photographer is look back on earlier images and compare them to similar shots that I have taken years down the line. While sometimes embarrassing, particularly when I think about the portraits I used to take in days gone by, it’s also refreshingly illustrative, and even a bit instructive, and if nothing else it’s just fun to see how far I’ve come. (I recommend this to other photographers too: try going through your earlier shots and see what you have learned and how you have improved over the years. It’s really cool.) Such is absolutely the case here.

Back in 2016, not too long after I got a set of close-up filters for my 50mm lens, I took this shot of a dragonfly near the shore of Milford Lake, Kansas:

At the time I was kind of blown away, having never taken a picture quite like this before. I was astonished that an amateur photographer like myself could get an image of a dragonfly with such stunning clarity. And without a true macro lens, no less. I thought I had peaked, but years later I can clearly see just how wrong I was and how much room for growth still remained.

This week’s featured image of a blue dragonfly, which was taken about 200 yards away from where I shot its counter part in 2016, is improved in every possible way. The dragonfly is sharper, the lighting is better, the colors (and thus, the entire composition as a whole) are vastly improved, and overall it has a sense of life and vibrancy that was almost entirely absent in the earlier picture. I don’t say this to downplay the first shot, but to show how fascinating it is to see how much I have learned over the years. It’s something I don’t see too much on a daily basis, but when comparing compositions it becomes clear. And I think what excites me the most is thinking about, seven years from now, just how much I will have hopefully improved over what I can do now.

The journey really is the reward :)

One of my white whales, as it were, in macro photography is a picture of a bee hovering just next to a flower or other such source of nectar. It’s a shot that I have been chasing for years but never quite achieved, though I have come close on a couple of occasions. This shot, clearly, is not me reaching my goal but it isn’t bad and a good example of a kind of picture that I do enjoy being able to create while also serving as a reminder that if I just keep at it I’m sure I will get it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but hopefully soon. And in the meantime, there’s still so much to learn and so many new things to try. It’s a magical world, after all :)

Anyway, at the risk of waxing introspectively poetic, let’s talk about this image of a bee on…well, I’m not sure what on earth this thing is. Some kind of flower? I don’ have a clue. It looks almost otherworldly, but was really just growing in a thick patch of greenery right next to the beach near our cabins on Milford Lake, Kansas. One thing I have learned about these big bumblebees is that they aren’t super fast, especially compared to some of their smaller, more nimble, counterparts and when they land on a food source they like to stick around for a few seconds. Just long enough, at least some of the time, to fire off a few snaps of the shutter.

Autofocus and exposure settings are key, obviously, but one other component of this shot that I was really trying to keep in mind was lighting. This image would have been find if lit from the front, but composing it in such a way (i.e. moving myself and my camera) that the sun was above and to the rear of the bee and the, um, flower? elevated the composition to a new level. It looks like the subjects are glowing, and the bee, in the midst of a nectar snack, has a sense of kinetic energy and life that would be missing if lit differently. It was a good reminder that even though I haven’t yet gotten my shot of a bee next to a flower, there’s still lots and lots of great photographs out there just waiting to be taken.

Every year since 2012 my family has spent a few days each summer in cabins at the shore of Milford Lake, Kansas, just enjoying each other’s company. We talk, play games, go swimming, ride the pontoon, sit by the campfire, and stay up way, way too late knowing full well we really should be getting to bed. But we don’t, and it’s great :) And every year I bring my full suite of cameras to take some photos that I can’t get any other time–nothing groundbreaking, mind you, but pictures that exist just outside the boundaries of my normal daily life. This bug (beetle?) you see here is one such image, and even though nothing about it screams lake vacation it’s a shot that I don’t really have the opportunity to take at home or walking around the Oklahoma State University campus. Not that there aren’t plenty of bugs and insects around, but at the lake everything just seems so much more vibrant and alive! Or, perhaps, maybe I am just a bit more attuned to things like this when there’s wind in the trees, the smell of lake water in the air, and the sound of my kids playing with their cousins down on the shore.

My brother Phil had his Tokina 100mm f/2.8 macro lens firmly attached to his Nikon D7200 for most of our time at the lake this year, and the two of us had a great time talking about, and taking, shots of the small world around us. There was a patch of greenery between our cabin and the beach, and one afternoon I just kind of stood there poking around with my D750 and 105mm f/2.8 macro lens, marveling at the sheer quantity of life right in front of me and getting a few pictures along the way.

It wasn’t long until I saw this tiny creature crawling along a leaf, and even though I wasn’t sure exactly what kind of picture I would be able to take I figured I would at least give it a shot. It wasn’t exactly running but when working at such close distances even the smallest movement can mean big changes. I set my aperture to f/16, Auto-ISO to a minimum shutter speed of 1/500, and followed the bug as it made its way across the greenery. Soon it paused and peered over the edge, possibly contemplating the relative height from which it was now gazing, and it was at that instant that I snagged the shot you see here. I had my camera set to high-speed continuous shooting so this was just one out of a short series of shots but even so, it was the only one that just worked. The only things in focus are exactly what should be in focus, and the rest of the picture provides much-needed context to understand what is going on. I also like the backlighting on the creature, particularly its antennae, which was a direct result of the time of day: you are more likely to get photos like this in the morning or, in my case, evening.

While this wasn’t the first macro picture I took on our trip it was one of my early favorites, and I’m excited to share more in the coming weeks.