I had to get out tonight. I was that kind of day. And after shooting from my third-floor porch (made of wood), I wanted to find out if I could get better results shooting on firm ground (concrete).
Two shots below might tell the story. While they are still not as clear/sharp as I’d like, they seem considerably better than what I get from my porch–although I have to walk to get to the concrete and I did have to dodge one car in the parking lot across the way.
So the moon has been putting on quite the show over the past week. It’s been rising just about bedtime, so I can say “Goodnight, Moon” along with “Goodnight, room.” I’ve also been able to get out and capture it. However, when I went out last night (the 25th) for a session, I didn’t think anything other than “yep–that moon is full!”
But today, I see on SpaceWeather.com that yesterday’s full moon was the Snow Moon.
Here it is. I’m not really happy with the sharpness or clarity of this photo, but it was the best I could do last night.
So it’s my sister’s birthday today. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SISTER!
I cannot really remember doing anything really special for her birthday–far back as I can remember. So today while working on this technique, I decided to make something for her. It took me five photo shoots to get this right–and then I bumped it up a bit via Paint Shop Pro X2.
I sent her the full-resolution TIF of the following file. I think I like it–hope she does, too.
Having ideas is different than going out to see things to photograph.
In other words, thinking is different than hunting. Or: thinking is different than doing. My friend Mike, who teaches writing, is a believer in doing. In fact, Mike would probably agree with me that instead of thinking of something to do, it’s far better (and more productive) to do something to realize what it is I should do.
So, looking at some things that have been sitting on my desk, and the lighting today (sunny in Virginia), I started playing around with staples. When I saw the illusion, I grabbed the camera and attempted to capture it.
Here it is. Thank you, Escher, for the inspiration and the perspective.
Wildfire. Doing did create an opportunity to think. Thanks, Mike, and Don Murray! I don’t expect to do much more with this today, but I now have an idea of where I can go. Another shot:
I went out today because I needed some fresh air and I also needed to satisfy a curiosity I’ve had for the past week.
About the curiosity: While looking around my area via Google Maps, I found this odd shadow just a few miles south. It looked like a house or maybe monument–after all, Civil War bleeds through this area to this very day.
When I got there, here what I saw:
I drove away without even taking a photo. Then, the oddity of the scene made me stop and drive back to take that photo. I’d driven two miles away when the image of the house finally struck me. It’s February; trees are bare except for the evergreens. Not only does the tree by the house look unseasonably green, but the leaves were shaking in the breeze just a little too much. The road to the house is now as forgotten as the family that once lived here. But something is there. On the drive back, I didn’t see another tree in green that didn’t have needles.
This interesting location I did *not* anticipate. How peaceful to live and work in a mill.
This house stood alone in a field, happily tucked into the trees. Nearly forgotten, but not gone. I would love to meet someone who grew up in this house. . .
Alternate view of the same house. Time has moved on–but how much?
I drove by two areas that looked like this next photo. In places, the land is being stripped of all life. This particular area looked so thoroughly destroyed that it reminded me of photos of a WWI or Civil War battlefield after the Soldiers and field artillery had made their marks.
This tree caught my eye. There are many like this when power lines are near; however, nothing was in the vicinity of this tree.
Back at the end–the very, very end–of January, weather rolled through the Eastern United States. I diligently posted at an airfield waiting for the front to slam into my vehicle. I chose an airfield because there are so many trees here, I rarely see the horizon. Is there a horizon in Virginia?
On my way to the airfield, I drove past a graveyard. It was not the traditional “bones and granite” graveyard, but a graveyard of trailers. And there was this little shack. How old is it? What has it seen? Who built it? On this day, none of that mattered. The sky was ominous, the wind was blasting (gusting to over 50mph, I recall), and, once again, I felt fortunate to have my camera in-hand.