
My mother-in-law gave my wife some daffodil plants last fall, when she was thinning her patch, and my wife planted a few up close to the foundation of the house in a sunny spot under windows. We had a 3 days of unseasonable 80 degree weather last month, and those daffodils have been trying to bloom ever since. They made it on Wednesday. I waited until afternoon, when the sun was full on them, and went out for some daffodil macros. It was a really challenge…as the wind was blowing, and daffodils are notorious, famous in song and poem in fact, for bouncing around even in a light breeze. And they do “nod”…the blooms hang down so all the action is facing the ground. I swung the lcd on the Canon SX40HS out to the side and faced it forward on the camera to get under the flowers, and set the camera to macro and 2x digital tel-extender for scale. I used aperture preferred exposure. so I could lock in f8 for maximum depth of field. The rest was just patience (and 4 frames per second burst mode :). The angle of the light could not have been better…a combination of direct light on the petals and back light coming through the petals.
Canon SX40HS at 24mm macro equivalent, plus 2x digital tel-extender function. Aperture preferred. f8 @ 1/160th @ ISO 100.
Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness.

As I mentioned in yesterday’s Maple Blossom Special post, snow squalls were in the forecast for Southern Maine yesterday am, and one hit our back yard about 7:30. Of course, I threw on a coat and ran out to get a few shots of my maple blossoms with caps of snow. It was still snowing, and you can actually see a clumpy “flake” coming in for a landing in this shot.
The light was very different, afternoon to morning, sun to heavy cloud with snow in the air, and exposures were considerably different. Program with iContrast on the Canon SX40HS pushed the ISO well up to handle the subdued light, and the yellows brought out by the afternoon sun of the previous day turned dull. Only the reds held color.

Though a lot of my attention went into keeping the camera dry, I did manage to pay attention to the background of the shots. I tried both open framing, with the whitish sky behind, and closed framing, with the dark trunk of the tree behind. The top shot is in between, with background blossom clumps and branches making a patterned bokeh. One of the advantages of extreme tel-macro is the interesting bokeh effects you get.

All at 1680mm equivalent field of view (840mm optical zoom plus 2x digital tel-extender function). 1) f5.8 @ 1/200th @ ISO 500. 2) same. 3) f5.8 @ 1/100th @ ISO 800. These are all at –1/3EV exposure compensation.
Processed in Lightroom for color temperature, intensity, clarity, and sharpness.

Maple blossoms are another of my yearly subjects…one of those happenings I time my life by. I love them. Many people are probably totally unaware that the maple blossoms at all, let alone with such intricate beauty. They might see the red blush on the trees in spring, but unless they have gotten really close, they may not have realized that the first red blush is flowers. There is a second red blush, generally as intense, when the first leaf buds open, but that comes later.

You have to get really really close to see that the flowers are not just red…they have yellow centers with red petals and frilly green stamens. The impression from a distance is much redder than the actual blossoms.
I checked my archives and the maples in the back yard have bloomed a full month ahead of the same trees last year. That is how mild the winter has been (though snow-squalls are predicted for this morning).

In past years I have had to wait until the lower limbs blossomed or until I could find a small maple in bloom. This year, with the Canon SX40HS’s long zoom, close focus, and digital tel-extender function, I was able to capture better-than-life-size images higher up in the tree. The close-ups here were taken at 1680mm equivalent…840mm optical plus 2x d.t.e. function, hand held, from about 6 feet underneath. Since the breeze was bouncing the limbs around quite a bit, it was a matter of timing and taking bursts of shots at 4 fps. Using d.t.e. function keeps shutter speeds on the high side anyway.
1) f5.8 @ 1/500th @ ISO 160. 2) 72mm equivalent. f4 @ 1/1000th @ ISO 100. 3) f5.8 @ 1/320th @ ISO 125. Program with iContrast and –1/3EV exposure compensation.
Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness.
One last shot before the Maple Blossom Special is round the bend, and the red is gone until the leaves first pop!


While I admit I was impatient for the Crocus this year, I checked back, at my wife’s suggestion, to see when I took my Crocus shots in past years. The earliest are from April 2nd, and they are mostly from the second week in April! So our crocus are, in fact, way early this year…tempted out by those three record-setting 80 degree March days. Yesterday with the temperatures in the more seasonable 40s, the crocus looked like they might be reconsidering the rush. They remained tightly furled all day. Even the most mature blooms, from the first day of the heat-wave, were only open just enough at the top to see the orange fans at the center. They are not going to have much fun in the next few days either, as we are expecting temperatures in the 30s and 40s with rain.
Still, yesterday’s more subdued afternoon light gave me a chance to try some really close shots, using the digital tel-extender function with macro on the Canon SX40HS. At the 24mm end of the zoom, in macro, the camera can focus on an object touching the outer surface of the lens…so I set the DTE to 1.5x or 2x and pushed in as close as I could, while not getting into my own shadow.
This close in, the orange fan of the feathery stigmas dominates the image. The crocus in our yard are a variety with short stamens and elaborate stigmas. (As an interesting note, discovered in my bit of research into the crocus this am on wiki, the spice saffron comes from the stigmas of one of the autumn flowering crocus. Who knew?) The purple striped petals of our crocus form a interesting backdrop for the real drama of the stigmas.
Canon SX40HS at 24mm and macro, with 2x digital tel-extender for the equivalent field of view of 48mm lens on a full frame DSLR. Program with iContrast and –1/3EV exposure compensation.
Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness. Special attention was required to balance the exposure to bring out all the color and detail of the stigmas.
And for the Sunday thought. I love macros. I love to look really closely at the details of the common things around us. Moss. Lichen. The stigmas of flowers. The little lacy network of veins in a leaf…or the almost identical network in the wings of a dragonfly. It seems as though the structure of living things, and non-living things for that matter, becomes more intricate and more elegant the closer you look…to the point where pattern dominates…to the point where pattern is all there is. And I am not aware that it ever stops…that there is any degree of closeness…any magnification where the structure breaks down. Even at the atomic level, especially at the atomic level, the structure maintains its patterns.
Scientists tell us that under that pattern and structure events are random, unpredictable…that indeed the apparent pattern that is our reality arises out of unpredictable interactions beyond our perceptions. And I am naïve enough to not believe them. I see no reason to doubt that the intricate and elegant structure goes as deep as deep is. Our perception may fail, our ability to understand and to predict may fail, but the structure, the elegance, the beauty, I see no matter how close I look, I choose to believe extends to the root of being…is inherent in reality.
In fact, it just may be the ability to perceive structure and pattern that is the most human thing about us. The ability to appreciate the elegance and beauty of patterns defines us, and defines our reality…no matter how closely we look! I believe it is part of our inheritance. I believe it is, in fact, the defining nature of the Creator to bring order out of chaos, to create structure and beauty, and that one of the strongest evidences of that we are of the family of creation is that we see that beauty and structure everywhere we look, no matter how closely we look.
And every macro I take reminds me of that. Happy Sunday.

Seems like it was only a few days ago, on the first day of spring in fact, that I was lamenting the state of the crocus (croci?) in our yard. Being the the tidal zone of a river, where the cold air from the ocean comes inland on every high tide, our spring is delayed when compared to our neighbors less than a mile inland, so I am always sensitive to the bloom of the crocus. Since the first day of spring, however, we have had three days of faux-summer here in Maine, with record setting temperatures in the 80s, and the crocus just leaped up.
Looking back through my The Yard gallery on WideEyedInWonder, I see that I have been faithful for at least the past 4 years to document the first bloom of the crocus with a series of close-ups. This year I am still learning to get the best out of my new Canon SX40HS. When I went back to the Canon, after a brief flirtation with the Nikon P500, the only thing I missed from the Nikon was the superior macro function. The Nikon, in Macro Mode, set the lens to 34mm equivalent and focused down to 2cm. It was wonderful. The Canon, on the other hand, only focuses really close (0 cm…touching the lens) at 24mm, which is, in reality, a less impressive macro effect.
A week ago, while shooting a few macros in NJ, it occurred to me to try using the digital tel-extender function with macro at the 24mm end of the zoom. I have gotten some impressive macros at the long end of the zoom at 1680mm equivalent using the DTE function, but you have to be 4.5 feet away. That is very useful with bugs, but not so handy with flowers.
These crocus are my first real experiments with extended macro on the Canon SX40HS. I’d say it works. The 1.5x and 2x DTE function allows you to shoot at 36 and 48mm equivalents, while still focusing to 0 cm. You can use the extra magnification for more impressive macro effect, or to back away from the subject to a more comfortable working distance (1 to 4 inches). And the image quality is just fine for my uses (whether seen at reasonable sizes on a computer monitor, or blown up to wall size on and LCD projector).
For comparison (and just for more crocus fun) here are two shots of the same flower…the first is at the wide end of the zoom, using macro and the 1.5x DTE for a 36mm equivalent field of view. The second is at the long end of the zoom, using macro and the 2x DTE for a 1680mm equivalent. The first is from an inch. The second is from 4.5 feet.


And to finish up, a low angle shot…just peaking over the petals to the orange fans at the center.

The addition of the DTE to the macro on the Canon SX40HS has cured my Nikon envy. And, of course, the crocus helped!

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.

Though it was raining heavily when I wrote yesterday’s post, by 10AM the rain had become light enough to get out for a Satruday fotoprowl. Fotoprowl®. I coined that word yesterday on Google+ in describing my adventure. Or I think I did 🙂 Someone may well have come up with it before me. Fotoprowl: an exploratory walk or ramble with camera in hand, intentionally hunting for images. I think it describes what many of us do. There comes a moment when the hunger for an image overtakes us, and we pick up the camera and head out the door…only thinking of destinations as we go…as likely places for pics…not setting out to see any particular thing or place, but going in search of whatever might make an image.
Yesterday I was headed for our back marsh and my pocket sanctuary along the Kennebunk Bridle Path, but it took me a half hour to get from the front door of the house to the car door. Now that the Japanese Beetles are gone, we are getting our first really good roses of the season. This giant pink was just begging for a pic.
And this yellow was growing right next to it, head hung over and still dripping from several days of rain, but still striking.

Then, only a few steps away, the tiny massed flowers of the Sedum caught my eye and the camera’s lens. The rain water still sitting in the flowers and the subtle light of an overcast day deepened the pinks toward red.

Then on the way to the car I looked up to see the first touches of fall color, literally touches, across the street. The flow of cooler air along the pavement touches the exposed leaves of Maples earlier than the season. And I have always suspected that the higher levels of carbon monoxide above the road have something to do with it too. Later in my fotoprowl, I found trees more fully touched, but I like the way the partial color here is framed against the pine needles.

And finally, reaching the car, I found that fall had gotten there before me.

I eventually did get in the car and get on with my fotoprowl behind the beach and along the Bridle Path…but that is a story for another day.
So what is the Sunday point? Those of us who have chosen photography as a way of celebrating the world around us…as our creative medium for sharing our vision…are driven by the creative urge to our occasional or habitual fotoprowls. That fact, simple as it is, never ceases to fill me with joy, and with a deep and abiding quiet satisfaction that is indistinguishable from deep gratitude. Not every fotoprowl results in a great image…in a image that takes on a life of its own…a true creative capture…but that does not diminish the satisfaction, or the gratitude. The satisfaction is in the prowl itself. We do not hunger so much for the image as for the hunt…for the state of mind…for the intentional openness and heightened awareness that is the essence of the prowl. In the fotoprowl, the photographer is fully alive. And that is why we do it…and what we are thankful for.
Nothing says high summer like bumble bees in the Blanket Flower in the sun. And, of course, the bee adds interest to what would otherwise be just another portrait of a flower…not that a Blanket Flower portrait would be without interest in itself…I love the range of reds and oranges. Taken in our yard one morning last week.
This is a telephoto macro, taken in the Nikon Coolpix P500’s Close Up mode with the zoom setting overridden to 320mm equivalent field of view. The reach is good when working with bees, as I am somewhat allergic, but it also offers better separation from the background. With a small sensor camera you need all the background help you can get.
f5.5 @ 1/400th @ ISO 160. Close Up Mode.
Processed in Lightroom for Clarity and Sharpness.
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Happy Sunday.
I am not sure how, but this image, from our yard in Kennebunk, seems right for Sunday. We are in Southern Maine, but we lived in New Mexico many years, where Yucca is quite at home. It was somewhat surprising to find a Yucca planted in one corner of the tiny front garden of the home we bought when we moved to Maine, but there it was. Over the years it has gown to good size, and now produces an amazing show of flower stalks and blossoms every summer. This shot is from the morning after a day of rain. The rain had only cleared off at first light, and the yard, and all it plants, were still very wet…but for some reason the water had beaded spectacularly on the Yucca blooms.
Here is a second perspective.

Nikon Coolpix P500 in Close Up mode (macro), 32mm equivalent field of view, f3.7 @ 1/160th and 1/320th @ ISO 160.
Processed for Clarity and Sharpness in Lightroom. As the blooms are so white, the shadows on them showed a lot of reflected green, and I had to deal with that with the selective saturation control. Our eye/brain in real time view auto adjusts for colored shadows…the camera does not.
And for a Sunday thought. I don’t know how a plant of the desert southwest ended up in our garden in Maine, but brings enough of the desert with it to remind me of how biblical the blessing of rain is. The psalms, written in a desert land, are full of rain imagery, as is the whole old testament. It is easy to forget that rain is a blessing in Southern Maine in the summer, when a rainy week means less beach time, and a rainy weekend means lost tourist dollars, but, of course, even here it is. We are green and lush because of the rain, not rain forest lush, but vibrant and alive in way desert dwellers can only dream of. Water beading on the Yucca blossoms brings that sense of blessing even here. Grace and grace abounding. We live by grace.
We have a vigorous stand of Black-eyed Susans in the yard this year. I went out after supper to catch the late light on the flowers in the front yard and got down under this beauty to put it between the camera and the sun. Between the Active-D Lighting on the camera and some Fill Light in Lightroom, I was able to catch a fairly natural balance between the shadowed stem and the highlighted petals.
Nikon Coolpix P500 in Close Up mode (macro) at 32mm equivalent field of view, f3.7 @ 1/640th @ ISO 160.
Processed for Clarity and Sharpness (and that extra bit of Fill Light) in Lightroom.