Posts in Category: macro
7/14/2011: Coreopsis, Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens
Since our visit to the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens in Boothbay Maine almost a week ago, I have avoided the temptation to bombard you with flower shots (okay…except for the experience and photo technique piece on Point & Shoot 4 Landscape, here). You will, however, see some shots from the trip over the next week or so.
This is Coreopsis, according to the helpful sign in the bed, but it is not like any Coreopsis I have ever seen. We have Coreopsis of the normal yellow variety in our yard (see right). This isn’t it. I can only assume that the CMBG variety is a cultivar of someone’s invention.
Ah, but it certainly is a striking flower!
Nikon Coolpix p500 in Close Up scene mode, 32mm equivalent field of view, f3.7 @ 1/400th @ ISO 160.
(The shot from the yard is also Close Up mode, as above, but 1/200.)
Processed in Lightroom for Clarity and Sharpness.
7/5/2011: Foxglove in the morning.
According to wikipedia, there are many theories as to where the name foxglove comes from, but the one that makes most sense to me is that it is a corruption of folk’s glove or fairies glove. (Perhaps combined with the fact that they were also called Fuchs’ Glove, in honor of the man who first gave them their scientific name…digitalis.) In fact, according to the same source, they are still called folk-fairies-glove in Wales. Children in Wales, apparently, still clip a stalk and strike the blooms against the hand to hear the fairy thunder as the wee folk who hide inside the bells escape in a huff. Such strange things you can find on wiki. 🙂
This is an early morning shot, and, in addition to the beauty of the blooms with their beads of dew, I really like what the sun was doing with the out-of-focus background. Great bokeh. To achieve that effect I set the camera to Close Up Mode to engage macro, and then over-road the 32mm equivalent setting, zooming up to 435mm equivalent so that I could back well away from the plant and still achieve a macro effect.
Nikon Coolpix P500. f5.6 @ 1/125th @ ISO 160. Close Up Mode.
Processed in Lightroom for Clarity and Sharpness.
This is, by the way, another shot from my The Yard collection on WideEyedInWonder, all shots taken in our small yard in Kennebunk Maine.
6/19/2011: Lichen Flowers: Happy Sunday!
Happy Sunday.
As I mentioned in my extended essay on shooting in the rain (Acadia from under an umbrella…), one of the advantages of prevailing mist and falling water is that you tend (or at least I tend) to look at what is close to hand more carefully…and, of course, the water on everything adds a glisten that catches the eye. I have always been fascinated by moss and lichen, though I know next to nothing about it. I like the forms it takes, the colors (or lack thereof) and the textures. The northern coast of Maine has both moss and lichen in abundance.
This whitish, antlered lichen forms large dense beads from the seaside path to the tops of the mountains of Acadia. It generally hosts a variety of other plants, but only a few hardy individuals, well spaced, as below.
I had, however, never seen the flowers, if that is the proper word for these reproductive parts of this particular lichen, until my day of photographing in the rain.
Nikon Coolpix P500 in 1) Close Up Scene mode, 32mm equivalent field of view, f3.7 @ 1/60th @ ISO 160. 2) 100mm equivalent, f4.6 @ 1/60th @ ISO 160 Program.
Processed in Lightroom for Clarity and Sharpness.
And, of the Sunday thought, that matter of looking close come to mind. Though we Christians don’t give “paying attention” as much attention as some other religions, I certainly find that a sense of reverence has to be grounded in attention…in looking closely at life…in seeing and celebrating all the works of creation, from the most grand landscape to the smallest lichen on the forest floor. And when you do pay attention, you see the most amazing things. I mean, how unlikely are those flowers, or whatever lichen have, and how unlikely is the lichen itself…a fungus and an alga living entwined, supporting and feeding each other? The infinite forms of creation is enough to keep me reverent…and entertained…even on a rainy day. Even on a Sunday. Especially on a Sunday!
6/14/2011: High-Bush Blueberry Blossoms in the Rain
I spent the morning yesterday shooting Acadia National Park from under an umbrella in the rain. Different. I plan an extended post on the experience on Point and Shoot 4 Landscape one of these days soon.
These high-bush blueberry blooms were at the Wild Gardens of Acadia at Sieur de Mont Springs in the Park. I was shooting from under the branch, looking up at a sharp angle, and the dark background is the peak of the roof of the Nature Center at Sieur de Mont. I love the way the rain has beaded the flowers. A close look (click the image and use the size controls at the top of the window that opens) will show lens effects of several kinds…there are drops where the bush and what is behind it are imaged…you see shots like that often…but there are also drops that are acting as close up lenses, showing the fine texture of the petal they are on.
Nikon Coolpix P500 in Close Up scene mode (assisted macro) at 32mm equivalent field of view, f3.7 @ 1/200 @ ISO 160.
Processed in Lightroom for Clarity and Sharpness.
6/7/2011: Lady Slippers Reprise (the first movement)
I posted this pic on the left, taken at Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge in Wells ME, on 5/24, exactly two weeks ago. The shot above is the same stand of Lady Slippers, now in full bloom. All of the Lady Slippers this year seem a bit paler than last…as well as being almost three weeks late blooming…but this clump in particular is unusually pale. The light coming through them still brings out the delicate pinks in a way that reflected light never could.
Nikon Coolpix P500 in Close Up Scene mode (assisted macro) at 32mm equivalent field of view, f3.7 @ 1/250th @ ISO 160.
Processed in Lightroom for Clarity and Sharpness.
And just a slightly closer view.
6/5/2001: White Rugosa Rose, Happy Sunday!
Beach Rose, or Rosa Rugosa, is common along coast of New England, and especially on the dunes of southern Maine. It is not native. It was introduced for dune control and sea-side landscaping from Asia, where it is 
native to coasts of northern China, Korea, Japan, and southern Siberia. Rose Hip Jelly, a regional specialty, is made from the hips or pips (fruit) of the Beach Rose. Like many other introduced plants, it has been a mixed blessing…it certainly holds the dunes down and makes a bold show in lawns and boarders, but where it grows wild it has almost completely displaced native dune grasses and wildflowers.
Mostly you see the red variety. The white is a cultivar, and through I found it growing wild along the abandoned Bridle Path in Kennebunk, it almost certainly escaped from someone’s garden, or perhaps there was once a house along the Path just there, as there is evidence of ditching and draining and possible cultivation in the marsh near-by, and several other introduced ornamentals (including Hawthorn and Japanese Barberry) on the Bridle Path within sight of the patch of white roses.
The big showy white petals do, as I see it, very interesting things with light 
Nikon Coolpix P500 in Close Up Scene mode (assisted macro). Both main shots at f8 @ 1/800th @ ISO 160.
Processed in Lightroom for Clarity and Sharpness.
And, for the Sunday thought…
If, as I strongly suspect, what we have along the Bridle Path just there, where the white Rugosa Rose blooms, are the remnants of someone’s gardening efforts from the last century (or even the one before…there is a particularly Victorian aspect to the mix of plants) it just goes to show how much power there is in the human intention…the power to alter the landscape for generations…well beyond the lifetime of the particular person of intent. And, of course, the problem status of the Rugosa Rose on New England dunes testifies to our inability to completely foresee the consequences of our intentions. We, as children of the creator, have, indeed a measure of the creator’s power…certainly enough to create our own versions of Eden where ever we go…but as creatures of time, who lack, while we are here on this earth, the eternal perspective, we can not see far enough ahead to know what exactly we do.
I am, to be honest, of two minds about this. One part of me recommends caution…that we ought, given our limitations, to take a “hands off” stance…to leave nature to her own devices, and not meddle with the landscape.
But part of me feels that managing the ever changing landscape is what we are here to do…that in fact…we will always be gardeners in the Eden the creator is creating…and that is right that we exercise our little bit of creativity in the moment…every moment…to tend and expand the landscape of creation. If the Rugosa Rose has run beyond any intention, it will require creative intent on the part of the children of the creator reign it in.
Too often, I think, we set man and nature against each other. Man made is unnatural. A garden is not nature. Too often, I think, we forget that man is part of nature…that our creative intent is force of nature as sure as wind and sun and rain. It is, as I see it, only by remembering that all the time, and passing it generation to generation, that we can overcome the limitations of our time-bound perspectives. We are children of the creator, charged with creation in the moment. If the Rugosa Rose is a problem, we need to get creative about it. In this moment.
Or that’s what I think this Sunday morning.
Happy Sunday. Enjoy what the light does with the petals of the White Rugosa Rose!
6/3/2011: Dandelion Relapse
It grieves me to report that brother Ingraham has suffered a dandelion relapse, or in the more colorful vernacular, “fallen off the dandelion wagon.” It turns out that even as he was writing yesterday’s moving dandelion confession (which I am certain moved you as much as it did me)…he was surreptitiously watching the sun creep toward a particularly lush patch of dandelion that grows in the corner of the yard where the neighbors walk their dog, and almost as soon as he hit the publish button, he threw on some clothes, unshowered, and ran out with his camera for another fix. Oh the weakness of the human flesh. Which is why, brothers, we need each other. Staunch friends, let Brother Ingraham be a lesson, and let us rally round and support him as he returns to sanity and sobriety after yet another dandelion binge. It could happen to any of us. Guard yourselves and each other. There are weeks yet until we are safe from temptation. Just as brother Ingraham so eloquently confessed…only yesterday. One day at a time!
Nikon Coolpix P500 in Close Up (macro) scene mode, 32mm equivalent field of view. 1) f7.1 @ 1/800th @ ISO 160, 2) f5.6 @ 1/800th @ ISO 160. The sun is directly behind the head of the dandelion in both shots. The flip out LCD came into play of course…they really do walk their dog there. 🙂
Processed in Lightroom for Clarity and Sharpness (with a touch of extra recovery and some fill light to balance the difficult exposure…but still the camera really did very well). Until next time. One day at a time!
6/2/2011: Dandelion Days
Is there really anything new to say about dandelion puffs? Still, who, with a macro capable camera in hand, can resist photographing them every year? There is always something in the light, or the background, or the ambiance to justify another shot. Oh shutter buttons! No one really needs any justification for another dandelion puff shot! They are reason unto themselves…sure as summer coming…sure as we love symmetry…sure as June rains which leave them shattered or June winds that send them sailing as single parachutes to plague the lawn-keepers of future summers…sure as the grass stained knees and aging backs that make every years’ harder to catch! Dandelion puff is. Therefore: dandelion puff pictures!
These are two very different shots, from a technique standpoint. Both use the Close Up scene mode on the Nikon Coolpix P500, which is a kind of assisted macro. 1) is at closest focus and the camera selected best macro setting on the zoom at 32mm equivalent field of view…taken from less than an inch away, in open shade. f3.7 @ 1/320th @ ISO 160. 2) is zoomed out to 340mm equivalent (overriding the auto setting but still macro), taken from about 5 feet, obviously in full sun. f5.5 @ 1/400th @ ISO 160.
Processed in Lightroom for Clarity and Sharpness.
I will not claim that these satisfy my dandelion puff addiction for this year…we still have weeks of temptation facing us…but for today they are sufficient.
5/29/2011: Rhodora
Happy Sunday!
Ralph Waldo Emerson. 1803–1882
The Rhodora
On Being Asked Whence Is the Flower
IN May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,
To please the desert and the sluggish brook.
The purple petals, fallen in the pool,
Made the black water with their beauty gay;
Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,
And court the flower that cheapens his array.
Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why
This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,
Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing,
Then Beauty is its own excuse for being:
Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!
I never thought to ask, I never knew:
But, in my simple ignorance, suppose
The self-same Power that brought me there brought you.
I could not have said it better myself! 🙂 And there is even a Sunday thought in there. I have been photographing Rhodora every spring for years and this is the first time I have come across this poem.
The Rhodora, just a few scattered plants, was in bloom along the edge of a little marshy pond near my home in Kennebunk. If we ever get another sunny day (which is in some doubt in southern Maine this year) I want to go to Saco Heath, about 15 miles from here where it blooms in mass.
For now, these few will do! As I am sure Ralph Waldo would agree.
Nikon Coolpix P500 1) 32mm (Close Up mode for macro), f5 @ 1/1000th @ ISO 160, 2) 32mm (Close Up mode for Macro) f5 @ 1/800th @ ISO 160.
Processed in Lightroom for Clarity and Sharpness.
5/26/2011: Stranger than Fiction
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.