Tag Archives: Macrophotography

Little Things

Posted by dkrashb on

We have just returned from our annual trek to Portland, Oregon to visit my dad and his wife.  We made this a relatively low-key trip.  In the past, we’ve taken longer trips to Portland to allow time to meet our friends in Seattle and do things like take a side trip to Olympic National Park in Washington or spend a week in Glacier National Park.

This time, we spent a lot of time debating if there was a way to go to Portland with Tisen.

The reality was that we would need to spend 6 days driving if we didn’t fly and there was no way I was going to load Tisen into the cargo hold of a plane.  If we were going to take 6 days to drive to Portland, I wanted to make it an adventure through Yellow Stone–a place I have yet to go.  But, neither Pat nor I could afford to take that kind of time off work.

In the end, we opted for asking our friends to watch Tisen and keeping our trip short.  Our friends from Seattle offered to come down to Portland to spend a day with us so we didn’t have to take 2 or more days to see them.  My dad didn’t plan any multi-day side trips; we would have plenty of flexibility in our schedule to visit with our friends.

So, last Monday morning, the alarm went off at 4:00AM and I hopped out of bed like that was the time I got up every day.  By 5:45AM, Tisen was fed and walked and we were packed and ready to roll.  Tisen excitedly ran for the van just sure he was going on a new adventure with us.  I had a hard time dropping him off at our friends’ house.

We made it to Portland a little early and by 2PM were sitting in my dad’s family room with full bellies (having stopped for lunch on the way from the airport) and suffering from only mild separation anxiety.

It felt good to just sit and hang out, catching up.  I, of course, got out my camera and started looking for things to shoot.

Pat sat across from me with his feet up on a foot rest.  I noticed for the first time that his shoes, which he has had for at least a couple of years, have outlines of the shoemakers on the soles.  I couldn’t resist trying to shoot the soles of his shoes.

Then, my dad was telling a story and chuckling.  I had to capture some of his facial expressions (although most of them didn’t come out so flattering).

Finally, I put my macro lens on my camera and went out to the garden.  My dad’s wife is an amazing gardener and can always be counted on to have beautiful flowers.  Although the surprisingly cool temperatures sent be back inside after only shooting a couple of flowers.

The Fungus Among Us

Posted by dkrashb on

I’m a big fan of mushrooms.  I like to eat them (when someone else has tested them first) and I like the way they look.

When we started off down the Savage Gulf Day Loop trail, it seemed like there was a new mushroom we’d never seen before every 10 feet or less.

In fact, sometimes there were whole families of mushrooms and, in some cases, it looked like the children were adopted.

I was blown away by the colors and sizes and varieties of mushrooms that added color to the trail in a way previously left to flowers.

Unfortunately, after toting the tripod around for 2.5 miles at Laurel Falls and Stone Door, I’d decided I didn’t want to tote it around for potentially 5 miles on the loop trail.  I opted for my camera with the 24-70mm lens and a 100-400mm lens in my bag in the hope of having less weight on my shoulders.  I also made a mental note to myself to, in the near future, look for a backpack with a hip belt that I can use to carry photography equipment–I have got to get the weight off my shoulders.

I’m fairly certain that the decision to leave my 100mm macro lens and tripod behind actually caused a massive mushroom bloom from the time we left the car to the time we started down the trail.  I would bet a lot of money that had I carried my tripod and macro lens, we wouldn’t have seen a single thing interesting enough to shoot up close.

As it was, I was left to try to simulate shooting macro in a dark environment with a hand held camera.  I was thankful that my Canon 5D Mark III has such awesome higher ISO performance (well, compared to my 40D, which I also left behind).  Were it not for that, I wouldn’t have captured a single mushroom.

On the way out, I shot mushrooms at 70mm, getting as close as possible, which isn’t that close since it’s not a macro lens.  The images are all cropped as a result.

On the way back, I shot mushrooms at up to 400mm, standing back further and desperately trying to hold the lens still.  I’m impressed that I got any decent shots at all.  I think this speaks to the amazing technology of image stabilization built into the lens.

Granted, some of the shots are a bit blurred from too much movement with too long of a shutter speed.  The second image is an example of this.  It’s one I should probably just delete.  But, when I looked at it in post processing, I was so pleasantly surprised to discover what I assumed was leaf debris was actually a tiny snail sitting on the mushroom cap, I couldn’t think of deleting the image.

It’s funny how sometimes the most pleasure comes not from executing a shot well but by discovering something in a shot completely by accident.

A Mini Krash

Posted by dkrashb on

Perhaps this is a good time to mention that I am extraordinarily clumsy.  In fact, I was given the name “Krash” many years ago by some friends who were amazed by my ability to hurt myself (thanks, Mike and Bart).  I really should have a blog dedicated to the ridiculous ways in which I’ve hurt myself.

It only follows that, on my first field trip with a new group of people, while hanging out with someone I’ve just met, I would do something embarrassing and at least mildly alarming.

After lunch at Gibbs Gardens, my cohort (let’s call him John in case he doesn’t want to be included in my blog) and I headed off to the Japanese garden.

As we walked towards an arbor-like structure, several people were gathered around looking at what turned out to be bats.  I happen to be extremely fond of bats.  I would say my fondness for bats is in direct proportion to how much mosquitoes like to bite me.  Besides, bats are really quite cute.

Two of the bats had gone astray and were clinging to the post of the structure close to the ground.  One appeared to be quite young.  I happened to have my macro lens on my camera, so there was no question but that I was going to get some shots of at least one of the bats.

I opened up my tripod’s legs so I could place my camera very low to the ground, level with one of the bats.  Then, I bent over to look through the view finder.  This is when the 40+ pound pack on my back slipped forward and conked me in the back of the head.

This is also when I discovered I had mounted my camera backwards on my tripod head.  I never really worried about which way was forwards or backwards, but now I will.  When you mount your camera backwards in the clamp on my tripod mount, there is a metal lever facing you.  This doesn’t seem like a big deal until a 40+ pound backpack smacks you in the back of the head and shoves your lip into the metal clamp.  Fortunately, I lost only a little blood and no teeth.  Poor John kept trying to find ways to carry things for me after that incident.

It reminds me of a former boss who used to watch for things I might run into and steer me around them when we were walking together.  He started this practice after I bounced off a wall turning a corner too soon while I was mid-sentence.

I’m thinking about teaching a photography workshop on how to prevent injury while shooting.  Most people probably worry about that when they’re shooting on a cliff or going on a safari in Africa or shooting for a newspaper in the middle of a war.  I have to worry about it when I bend over to look through my view finder.  But, hey, it could be a niche market.

The Importance of Yoga

Posted by dkrashb on

The most important thing I learned from my mother is to allow myself to experience awe and wonder.  To experience the feeling of wonderment is to experience a sense of delight with what is.  It’s a moment of rest for the brain where you just accept and feel the feeling of “wow.”

As someone who is overly analytical and who could keep up with a three-year old on the frequency of uttering the word “why,” I particularly appreciate these moments when I’m simply too awed to think.

Today, I want to experience the joy of exploring beautiful flowers.

Instead of picking flowers, I photograph them.  One would think that photographing flowers would be a relatively easy task.  They are, after all, not going to run away.

However, given the flowers I most want to photograph are growing in colonies on a hillside, getting into the flowers with my big feet and a tripod turns into quite a feat of athleticism.  I carefully plant the toes of one foot and balance like the karate kid on one leg as I try to gently create a space for my other foot; I am painfully reminded of how long it’s been since I last went to yoga class.

Once I get myself in a spot where I can put both feet on the ground without crushing anything, I bend down and look through the viewfinder to focus on the flower.  The wind is blowing so hard the the flower is literally blowing completely out of my frame.  I have to hold the flower gently with one hand while I move the camera a bit with the other.  And, it turns out, I’m not close enough to the flower to focus.

I must stand, lift the tripod, find another clear spot for each of its legs and repeat the process of focusing and framing without moving my feet.

When I bend back over the camera again, desperately wishing for a place to rest a knee, my hand is shaking–I can’t keep the flower still enough to focus.  I have to straighten up, shake out the soreness, and try again.

In the end, I am grabbing snapshots of a flower as it waves by my lens in the wind because I cannot stand the pain of the position I have to stand in to do otherwise.

While I suppose I could buy a bouquet at the store or even start growing flowers in a pot, one of the things I like about shooting flowers up close and personal in a park is the feeling of surprise.  The first time I look inside a blooming flower with my macro lens, I see something I never expected to see.  Going to the park and exploring flowers I can’t identify and have never seen before keeps me in a state of wonder.

I just didn’t expect photographing flowers to have a prerequisite of regular yoga classes.

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Uphill Battle

Posted by dkrashb on

After a day of shooting on Saturday, one might think I am all shot out for the weekend.  However, upon rising Easter morning, I look out upon that early morning light and think “I should go shoot the flowers on the bank!”

Pat decides he will come with us.  This is awesome because it’s hard to do a lot of macro shooting with Tisen trampling over everything.

Deciding to travel light, I put my 100mm macro lens on my camera and attach my camera to the tripod.  I grab my 5-in-one reflector and my extension tubes and that’s all I’m taking with me.  Pat takes Tisen and the three of us cross the street.

I suppose we might look a little odd to the families arriving in droves at the park parking lot.  There is apparently some live music event for Easter at Coolidge park and many folks are parking here at Renaissance park and walking the short distance on the riverwalk to get to Coolidge.  There are all kinds of children in their Sunday best carrying Easter baskets.  I am wearing a pair of cropped hiking pants and a black pullover also made for hiking accessorized with my five finger shoes.  Plus, I am carrying my reflector fully open, although it’s only 22” in diameter, I’m sure it looks odd.  The tripod over my shoulder might help explain some of this to those who are curious, but I’m sure it seems strange to be focusing (pun!) on flowers when there’s an Easter event going on next door.  I guess we all celebrate in our own way.

But this morning, the light is indirect, glowing like only morning light can, and it’s dry.  I manage to make my way down the steep hillside without trampling anything that won’t recover.  I try to fluff up the grass where I’ve stepped in the hope of not leaving any trail of where I’ve walked.  I work around the outskirts of the flowers, looking for a few isolated blooms that I can get to without crushing anything.  It’s a struggle to stand up the tripod and get really close to the bloom on the steep hill without either falling or smashing other flowers.  I manage to arrange things carefully so that when I’m done, there won’t be any permanent damage, but standing with my feet carefully placed in areas that were recently cleared of weeds causes me to bend over at a weird angle, straining my back.  I am getting quite a workout bending over the camera while balancing myself and trying to support my back with my stomach muscles.  Who knew photography was really a sport?

In the end, I’m reasonably happy with the shots I got.  A little more physical comfort might have led to some better shots, but to have had more physical comfortable, I would have done damage to the plants on the hillside, so I’ve decided less than perfect photos are better than damaged plants.

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Break Time

Posted by dkrashb on

Taking a break from my first attempt at a self portrait, I pack up my gear and head to the park across the street.  My collection of gear seems to be growing.  I have to leave a lens behind to make space for my loupe with a 3x magnifying viewer (which, by the way, kicks the but of any pair of reading glasses–not only can I actually tell if I’m in focus or not, but I can even use it to read the impossibly small icons on the control panel on the top of the camera).  I tuck in a garbage bag in case I want to lay in any mud (you never know when the urge will strike), and I stuff in my new 5-in-one 22” reflector in the event I decide to do some macro photography while I’m over there.

I go to the park prepared  to shoot macro, wildlife, and/or landscape.  I’m nothing if not flexible.  I am also prepared for rain.  Besides my trash bag, I carry my rain jacket just in case.

I swing my camera bag and my tripod bag over my shoulder with my camera hanging around my neck.  As I pass the gym across the street, I see my reflection in the windows.  I look down at my feet, clad in five finger shoes.  I find myself thinking it’s a good thing I don’t have children–they would never go anywhere with me in public.

As I enter the park, I see an eastern blue bird.  It looks like it may have a nest on the light–it’s carrying a bug and acting like it’s feeding something.  I cannot see any baby beaks from where I’m standing, however.

Next, a great blue heron lands in the wetland.  I creep behind the cattails, hoping to get a shot.  As I get close, I see him standing with a frog hanging out of his beak.  But he flies off and I am left wondering why I didn’t change to my longest lens before sneaking up on him.

I head back towards the paved path, looking for a spot to shoot clouds, and then blooming trees.  I switch back and forth between shooting macro and landscape, wishing I had that second camera.

I make good use of the trash bag getting a new angle on blooming trees.  My reflector comes in handy when I need some shade on the red bud blooms.  However, the wind is picking up and macro shooting at 3 feet above the ground does not go well.

I shift back to shooting landscape.  As I stand overlooking the Tennessee River, it starts to rain.  My garbage bag transforms into a rain cover for my camera.  My rain jacket goes on, the hood goes up, and I head back home.

Tisen is frantic when I return home.  He jumps at my legs as if demanding an apology for being gone for so long.  Maybe someday he’ll be OK.

Up Tight and Extended

Posted by dkrashb on

Tonight, I get out a new toy I’ve been dying to play with.  Extension tubes.  For my non-photographer readers, these make it possible to focus with the lens much closer to the subject, resulting in really up-close photos.

As I start to set up to see what kind of macro shots I can get with a 36mm extension tube on my 100mm macro lens, my favorite model strikes a pose on the couch, cuddling Mr. Beaver.  I decide to see if I can grab a couple shots of Tisen before I switch lenses.

Of course, when I position a light and line up the camera, he jumps up and joins me on my side of the camera.  I coax him back to the couch by sitting down.  However, I cleverly brought the remote with me (mainly because I’d forgotten it was in my pocket) and confuse the heck out of Tisen (and probably Mr. Beaver, too) when the camera clicks but I haven’t moved.

Surprisingly, a bunch of things align that don’t usually work out–the camera is focused on the correct part of the couch, the depth of field is decent, and I am cut out of the frame.  All the things I look for in a picture of my dog.  🙂

Of course, I don’t know if the pictures are in focus or if Tisen is even in the frame because I’m sitting on the couch.  So, I sneak away to see if I can get Tisen to stay on the couch while I check the settings.  Mr. Beaver doesn’t seem to notice I’ve gotten up, but Tisen watches intently to make sure I’m not going far without him.

Eventually, my husband complains I’m blinding him with the light and I return to setting up for macro shooting.  About the time I get the extension tube on, the lens attached, the tripod readjusted to floor height, and the light angled to light the area of the floor under the lens, I realize I don’t have a subject.

I look around the room in desperation.  I remember some really cool shots I saw at a macro workshop I went to last month.  The instructor had set up a clear glass pan suspended above colored wrapping paper and mixed oil and water in the pan.

Since I can’t find a glass dish, don’t have anything to suspend a dish, and don’t have any wrapping paper, I opt for a small, fake crystal dish with a tiny bit of water and a drop of sesame oil set on top of an area rug.

I learn several things from this experiment.  First, in spite of having vacuumed only an hour earlier, there is a lot of dog hair in the rug!  Second, the shots with the oil layer in focus are the least interesting.  In spite of the dog hair, I like being able to see all the way through the glass.  Perhaps I should have tried on a different background.