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

Those of you who have been reading Weekly Fifty long enough know that I like to schedule my posts well in advance–weeks, even months before they go live. As I write this it’s about a month prior to the post being published, and we’re coming up on the end of a pretty rough year for a lot of people. 2020 has been soul-crushing in a lot of ways for a lot of folks, and if you have been hit hard by the pandemic then please know my heart goes out to you and I hope you are doing OK and starting the new year with a sense of optimism and even excitement. It’s been tough to see the silver lining with everything that has been unfolding these past several months, and yet, it is there if we look hard enough. There is news of a vaccine on the horizon, and the Biden administration will undoubtedly bring a host of changes from the past four years, and even though you are reading this during the cold of January it’s only a few months until things warm up and the browns and grays give way to green grass and bright blue skies.

And this photo, I hope, brings a tiny bit of a sense of optimism to you as you start the new year.

I rarely share photos of my kids here on Weekly Fifty (and even when I do, I never show their faces) but I thought this would be worth posting as we all begin 2021 together. I shot this over Thanksgiving break when my wife and I took our boys to Lake Carl Blackwell just west of town and spent the afternoon walking on trails we had never seen before. We didn’t know where we were going and had no map or GPS to guide us, and instead just told our oldest son to lead the way while our youngest followed close behind. Some spots on this trail (which I think was an equestrian trail, but I’m not sure) were muddy, others were covered in leaves, and a few spots were nothing but knee-deep trenches through the dirt and mud. It was exciting not knowing where we were going or what we would find along the way, and through it all our kids just kept forging ahead without a plan other than to see what was just around the bend.

And that’s kind of how I feel going into 2021. There’s uncertainty, of course, but I also have a sense of hope and excitement as opposed to the overbearing foreboding which has characterized much of 2020. What lies ahead I’m not sure, but I know we’ll get through this with the Lord’s help, and hopefully we will soon leave COVID-19 and the pandemic in the rearview mirror for a long, long time.

Here it is, my final photo for 2020. And just like usual, there isn’t really anything special or noteworthy about the fact that this image is the one to close out the year but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I schedule my posts weeks or even months in advance, and it’s basically just dumb luck as far as which picture happens to land on any given Wednesday, but even so I do think there is something to be said for this particular image as we leave 2020 behind and head into a new year.

But first, the photo. This was the result of several attempts at capturing a backlit leaf at Theta Pond one morning in mid November. The first challenge was to find a single leaf, isolated against everything else in the frame. An inspection of a nearby gingko tree resulted in nothing noteworthy, as too many leaves were visible in the shots I was taking and nothing really stood out in the frame. Then I came upon this tree on the south side of the pond, and actually ended up removing two dead leaves from the foreground that would have obscured the leaf you see here. I put my camera in Live View because I wanted to get three specific balls of light to the left of the leaf just right in the frame, and thankfully the wind had died down a little because, let’s face it, my D7100 in Live View is…well, let’s just say it leaves a lot to be desired in terms of autofocus performance. The final composition is one that I like. Really like. I thought the greens on the top left, the bright leaf in the middle against a darker background, and the spots of yellow in the lower-left corner create a compelling composition that I enjoy a great deal. The backlighting worked perfectly, and there’s even a tiny drop of water on the bottom of the leaf–a little bonus I didn’t even plan on. It’s a great picture of a dying leaf, and yet it also fills me with hope to look at this too.

If you really wanted to (and I’m not saying I do, but…if you wanted to) you could turn this picture into a bit of a metaphor for this past year. I tried writing a few sentences about it and deleted all of them, because nothing I can say here on my little photo blog can hope to console those who have lost family, friends, and loved ones due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Make of this photo what you will: I have some thoughts in my head, but that’s probably where they will stay until I can find a better way to share them in written form. But whatever you think of this image, I hope you can focus not only just on the withered leaf but on the bright spots behind it, the green trees full of life, and the sunlight streaming through the frame lending an iridescent glow to everything you can see. Let those parts of the picture not be absent from whatever thoughts and interpretations you take from this.

And may all of us, Lord willing, look forward to a bright and hopeful 2021. May God bless you and keep you, may He make his face shine upon you and be gracious unto you, and may He look upon you with favor and give you his peace that passes all human understanding.

Cheers, everyone. See you next year :)

It’s amazing how much difference it can make to shoot photos in the morning. Or in the evening. Or any time the sun isn’t higher in the sky. I have always enjoyed taking pictures at the extreme ends of the day, and not just because the light is better. In the morning the air feels fresh and there is a sense of newness about the day that falls away as the sun reaches into the sky, and in the evening you can feel the calm and order settling on the earth as things wind down before the final rays recede into the distance. Taking pictures during those times feels like a slightly more tangible way to explore the world, and try to capture just a glimpse of what it feels like in person. Not that I want to be melodramatic here; the point I’m making is that it’s really cool to go out and shoot pictures in the morning and the evening. But especially the morning.

This was a classic scenario of finding a good subject, but not seeing (at least immediately, anyway) a great way to shoot it. I literally walked around this rose for a minute or two thinking about what angle to use or what I wanted my composition to look like, and then I realized I could use the backlighting to my advantage. With the sun relatively low in the sky the petals on top had a really nice glow to them, and the background foliage was brilliant-lit as well. I spent a few minutes scooting from left to right and back again, taking photos the whole time, trying to get a good combination of a well-lit subject, an interesting background that complemented the subject, and placing other elements like the dark green branches of the rosebush in the frame in a way that accented everything else. It occurred to me as I was shooting this that I had taken a similar photo earlier this year which used not only backlighting, but the sun reflecting off passing cars to create bright spots of light in the background too. As I often do, I borrowed from that idea and tried to wait until some cars were going by on University Avenue to get a similar effect here, but with almost no traffic on the road that idea just wasn’t working out.

I think the photo is better off this way though, because the absence of background bokeh balls invites the viewer to focus more closely on the flower. I shot at f/2.4 to get a clean, crisp image and edited the final result just a touch in Lightroom to make the colors stand out a bit more. While this picture in and of itself isn’t really all that special, it was a fun shot to take and a good reminder of why it’s nice to take your camera out early to see what difference that can make for your photos. It might be a lot more than you think.

I took this picture eight days after one of the worst ice storms in a while, but you would almost never know it unless you look really carefully. After a week of intense cleanup most things on campus, and around town, are almost back to normal. There are piles of tree limbs and branches on almost every curb, but most of the debris is gone from campus thanks to the tireless efforts of the groundskeepers and cleanup crews. If you look carefully at the red tree you’ll notice that it seems incomplete, almost like someone took a pizza slice-shaped chunk out of the top. That is most likely a missing branch that broke off in the ice storm, but other than that this seems like a pretty normal scene for this time of year.

With one exception: there are no students. Not just an absence of pedestrians in the image, but an absence of evidence that any students are here at all. To be fair, I did shoot this picture at 7:25am (though if you look at the EXIF data on Flickr it probably says otherwise, since I had not yet adjusted my camera clock for Central Standard Time) but even so, it’s clear that this sidewalk has not seen much traffic. During a normal school year you would never see one of the main walkways on campus covered with so many leaves! That only happens when there are no people walking around to shuffle them around, but such is the nature of college during COVID. If this picture makes you feel a sense of calm or peace, that’s pretty much how the entire school year has gone. There’s a low hum of activity, but it’s a shell of what we normally see around here. Not that it’s a bad thing, and I’m glad both students and professors are finding ways to adapt to education during a pandemic. It’s just different, and something I’m still finding it a little strange to adjust to.

As I write this it’s about seven years after I got my D7100, which is the camera I used to get this shot. It’s really interesting to me how well that camera has held up over the years, and while I certainly prefer my D750 for image quality and D500 for sports and action, that D7100 remains a formidable photographic force especially when paired with some good glass. Or even average glass, as is the case here with my trusty ol’ 50mm f/1.8 lens. I kind of wish I had something a bit wider for this shot, but in hindsight I think the constrained field of view of a 50mm lens on an APS-C sensor fit just right.

Hope you’re doing well, and here’s to a better 2021 and the hope that we will get a vaccine soon.