Yesterday, being the first day of spring, on my lunch break I went out into our yard to look for signs of spring. We live in the tidal zone along a river about 2 miles inland from the sea, and our spring is delayed up to two weeks from those who live even a mile further inland. Our crocus are just pushing up the first green sprigs…just up the street they are in full bloom. We get payback in the fall, when, baring an early snowstorm, our warm days linger a bit longer, with 5 degree warmer temperatures than our inland neighbors.
I took shots of the crocus and the buds of the maple flowers, still little hard red balls on the branch tips, and was surprised by a butterfly flitting round the yard. It would fly a short hop and then sit with the sun on its spread wings, evidently building up energy for the next hop. I chased it down for a pic.
It is a Question Mark, and despite how common they are in New England, only my third conscious sighting. When I got the image on the computer screen for processing, I saw pretty clearly how worn the critter was. This is not a spring butterfly…so I looked up the Question Mark’s life cycle. In addition to the fact that the Question Mark feeds mostly on rotting fruits and vegetables, and carrion, in preference to flowers, which is interesting enough in itself, I found that there is a summer flight, and a winter flight (which actually flies in the fall). The winter flight over-winters in hibernation in sheltered nooks and crannies (an assumption since no one sees them), and emerges in the spring to lay the eggs that will become the summer flight. This winter flight specimen was evidently tempted out of its nook by the first day of spring.
Canon SX40HS at 1680mm equivalent (840mm optical plus 2x digital tel-extender). f5.8 @ 1/640th @ ISO 100. Program with iContrast and –1/3EV exposure compensation.
Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness.
The Eastern Redbud Tree is common in Virginia around our offices there, and it is a truly beautiful tree in bloom. This is not it. The Redbud blooms purple. In early spring Redbuds look like purple smoke in the understory of Virginia forests and the margins of Virginia lawns.
This is the humble Swamp Maple, which really does have red buds, growing in an untended area along the catchment ponds of our industrial park. It was taken in the soft light of dusk, barely enough light for the camera to focus, at the long end of the zoom, from about 5 feet, which accounts for the interesting bokeh, and the slightly magenta cast to the reds. In fact, the light was low enough already to push the ISO to 800, which puts this shot in the “not possible a year ago with a Point & Shoot” category. It is great when the technology catches up to your vision, even by tiny steps.
Canon SX40HS at 840mm equivalent field of view, f5.8 @ 1/40th @ ISO 800. Program with iContrast and –!/3EV exposure compensation.
Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness.
And for the Sunday thought. I love Maple blossoms. They appear on the branches well before the leaves, taping the last of last summer’s store of energy, braving late frost and spring winds, to stain the Maples with a tinge of the red they will carry in abundance at season’s end. They are always such a hopeful sign of the coming spring, among the first. And, close up, they are delicately beautiful…tight scaled buds, almost like tiny red pine cones, that open to miniature roses with long lacy filaments of red or yellow (depending on the species)…so small you have to be within inches to realize they are flowers at all. And of course, these tiny blooms are, most often, at the branch tips of massive maple trees, 4 stores high, and spreading over whole yards…or, in mass, shading acres of forest. The contrast could not be sharper.
They are brief…having seen these open in Virginia I can now see them, since I am looking, already formed on the branch tips of the Maple outside my window here in Maine, but they will not open here for several weeks yet. They will open, bloom a day, or a week at most, and be gone, as the leaves push right in behind them. (You will probably see more shots of them before long.)
I like them too, because, at winter’s end, they match the little blooming of my spirit. While we are here on Earth we are as much seasonal creatures, and creatures of the season, as is the rest of life around us…and this is true in the spirit as well. There is a spirit of winter, a spirit of spring…a spirit of each season. No, not that kind of “spirit of spring”…some kind of green leafy lady with a flower face…in the pagan sense. There is only one spirit…but that spirit is, in my experience, colored by the season. The hue of spring is hope. The hue of spring is quickening. The hue of spring is awakening. I feel it in my spirit as the days lengthen and the sun climbs…as the Maples bloom. Early and brave, despite the fact that winter storms are yet due, the Maples bloom. And so do I.
I arrived in Virginia in a mini-blizzard, and spent my first morning trying to keep my feet dry and still get out to see a bit of the snow shrouded landscape. Of course the snow was mostly gone by the end of the day, and by Thursday, yesterday, the temperatures were in the more seasonable upper 60s. When I left work at the sun was still a half hour from setting, birds were calling, and the pansies in the industrial park plantings were bright. I had to take a little photo-prowl.
I am pretty sure these are ornamental Crab Apple blossoms. There are many of these trees in the industrial park, and, since the park is about 30 years old now, the trees are well grown and put on a brave show every spring. This is one of those industrial parks with landscaping. There are lawns and hedges, pine groves, a whole series of catchment ponds with fountains, rock walls, gazebos, ornamental reed beds, etc. And I would love to have the pansy concession! Here is another view of the Crab Apple blooms.
The difference between the shots is that the first was taken at the long end of the zoom, at 840mm equivalent from about 4.5 feet, for a telephoto macro effect…with the subject well isolated against a soft background. The second shot is a wide-angle macro, taken from less than a quarter inch, and I had to find a clump of flowers that I could catch sharp against the mass of flowers above and behind.
Canon SX40HS in Program with iContrast and –1/3EV exposure compensation. 1) f5.8 @ 1/125th @ ISO 800. As you see, the light had already about gone by the time I got to the trees. 2) f4 @ 1/50th @ ISO 200.
Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness.
While out looking for Lady Slippers in one of the two places where I know they grow last Saturday, I came across these…growing on a dead birch sapling in the deep forest. Never seen the like, but some research on Google, and a not so inspired guess considering how they look, identified them as Jelly Fungus.
Honestly…you just could not make these things up! It is called Witches’ Butter in eastern Europe, and compounds extracted from it have proven effective in stopping the growth of certain cancers in white mice. Stranger and stranger.
Nikon Coolpix P500 in Close Up mode (macro) at 32mm equivalent field of view. 1) f3.7 @ 1/100th @ ISO 160. 2) 1/80th.
Processed in Lightroom for Clarity and Sharpness. #2 was cropped from the left for composition.
Oh…and the Lady Slippers were just poking through the ground.
Happy Sunday! I spent an hour yesterday morning at Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge headquarters area, walking the little nature trail through the woods down to the Little River and the Merriland, as the sun was trying to warm a cold early spring day. There is little sign of spring at Rachel Carson beyond the light, the first hard leaf buds, and the earliest signs the intention to blossom on the Hobblebush.
This is where the Merriland River, in the foreground, meets the Little River, on the left. It is a 4 shot panorama and really needs to be seen as large as your monitor will allow. It is, in fact, considerably wider than you would be likely to take in at one view. By relaxing your attention and, so to speak, stepping back behind your eyes, you would be able to see this sweep, but generally our attention is more focused and we would only see this as a series of impressions. I like the way the early light is playing across the marsh and bringing up the blues in the water, when there are none in the sky.
Canon SX20IS, four 28mm equivalent fields of view, stitched using the Panorama tool in Photomerge within PhotoShop Elements 9, and processed for intensity and clarity in Lightroom. Average exposure was in the f4 @ 1/160th @ ISO 80 range. Landscape mode.
And,for Sunday…I think about that focused attention we bring to bear on the world around us, limiting our natural 180º plus, to between 15º of truly focused attention, and 60º-90º of operational attention. We call the rest peripheral. And yet, we could all benefit, I suspect, from the habit, say, once or twice a day, of stepping back behind our eyes, relaxing, and taking in the full width of our vision. It is certainly so in spiritual things. One of the most profound insights of any spiritual journey is just how focused on our limited view of things we all are, and what a change it makes to step back and look out of larger eyes than our own. Doing so does not diminish in any way the particular that is the focus of our attention…it just puts it in perspective. What is my own salvation, precious as it is, in comparison to the salvation of mankind and the redemption of creation? There is a kind of prayer that seeks that experience…not petition (necessary focused on the particular)…but a reverent approach to unity through love that is sometimes called meditation. Unfocused attention, while I would not argue that it is the highest form of vision, or of prayer, is undoubtedly good for us.
Which is maybe why every photographer needs to experiment with panoramas once in a while. 🙂
Spring is slowly unfolding here in Southern Maine. Catkins are hanging and at least a few trees are in flower. New leaves are just emerging. Nothing showy mind you. We are still weeks from dog-woods and the ornamental cherries in front yards, but a few of the most hardy natives have begun to think about reproduction.
This is a tel-macro shot, at the limits of its depth of field, but I like the colors in the catkin and the form of the flowers and was determined to frame them both. The composition is pretty classic at that. The branches in the back were just far enough away to be pleasingly out of focus. It will actually benefit from a lager view.
Canon SX20IS at 300mm equivalent field of view, f5 @ 1/320th @ ISO 160.
Processed for intensity and clarity in Lightroom.
This needs to be seen larger, and clicking the image will open it on its SmugMug page as large as your monitor will support. You may need to scoot back in your chair, away from the computer, to really catch the effect. An exaggerated perspective on the path in the forest shot, from ground level…and with the trees still bare in spring. This shot is about line and light…the lines of the bare trees outlined in light, and the light receding at the far reach of the tunnel. The few evergreens and the leafy floor anchor the eye and help the eye and mind to make sense of it. In addition to the low angle, I used some telephoto compression to emphasize the effects. Cropped from the bottom and top for composition and to eliminate distracting out of focus foreground.
Canon SX20IS at 330mm equivalent field of view, f5 @ 1/400th @ ISO 100. Landscape Mode.
Processed for intensity and clarity in Lightroom. I took it into PhotoShop Elements to clone out a twig that was protruding upward into the frame from the bottom.
Hard to believe this was only a week ago here in Maine, after what I sincerely hope was the last snow of the season. This is a nothing shot…just a little moderate-telephoto crop of the landscape…but I like it. I like the bare branches against the sky, the clouds, the water and the leading line of melt in the foreground…I like the balance and the detail.
Canon SX20IS at 75mm equivalent field of view, three shots bracketed around –2/3rds EV, blended and tone-mapped in Photomatix Pro, processed for intensity and clarity in Lightroom.
I did shoot this as a standard Landscape Mode image just for comparison. All the HDR did was to bring up the relative brightness of the mid-tones in the trees, giving them more dimension, and bring out the green of the conifers. I might, with careful levels work and some masking, have been able to achieve these same results working with the single exposure. 🙂
Nothing like a Crocus in the clear light of early spring in Maine. They burst out of the ground and unfold to such brightness, while the grass is still brown and the trees are still bare, pushing last year’s leaf litter right out of the way. This snail’s eye view turns two emerging buds into colossuses of crocus color, commanding their horizon.
And just a few yards away we find one in full bloom, newly opened, and quite full of itself…brazenly flashing that impossible bright burning orange reproductive apparatus, shouting to be noticed. No, the Crocus is not to be denied…any more than the spring it heralds…leading the charging army of blooms, buds, new leaves and shoots, that will sweep southern Maine, willy nilly, into the new season.
Canon SX20IS, 28mm equivalent field of view and Super-macro mode. f4 and f5.7 @ 1/500th @ ISO 80. Processed for intensity and clarity in Lightroom. (And very thankful I am for the flip out LCD that allows for shots like the first without getting down on my stomach!)
Looking back, I see that both the Crocus and Easter were considerably earlier last year. Easter is an accident of the calendar, but the crocus are delayed, by a full week, by late spring snows. Still the feeling of spring is finally in the air in Maine, and Easter is fast approaching. A season of hope, both in nature and in the spirit…a putting off of the old dead shell of the world and a putting on of new born glory. Like the impatient Crocus, spring, in nature, and rebirth in the spirit, will neither be denied. Happy Sunday!
This is just two 28mm equivalent images stitched, but I guess it still qualifies as a panorama. We are looking up the Mousam from the Route 9 bridge in Kennebunk on a day with amazing clouds and a spring snow on the ground. It is interesting to me that, being familiar with the seasons in Southern Maine, I could never mistake this for a winter shot, despite the snow. The quality of the light, and its angle, marks this as somewhere very near the equinox…as indeed it was. April 4, the first weekend April. The only strange part is that I had to pull off through a line of huge snowballs pushed up by the plough to take the shot. Likely, but only possibly, the last snow of this season.
I really like the quality of the light and its variations across the surface of the water.
Canon SX20IS. Two 28mm equivalent field of view exposures, f4 @ 1/640th @ ISO 80, Landscape Mode, stitched in PhotoShop Elements 9’s panorama tool, and processed for intensity and clarity in Lightroom. There was a telephone pole at the left, which I cropped out, so it is not quite the width of the two exposures.
This is a rare panorama with waves in that the blend where the exposures meet actually works, managing to pass for a eddy in the current.