1.
Morning:
2.
Evening:
Photographic Journal
Old House
Teressa’s family will be moving soon, so I thought I’d go take some photos of them in their old house. My initial plan was to utilize the playroom’s excellent natural light to take some photos in the morning. However, what was once a large room filled with the chaos of toys and (um) “wall art” has become a large room filled with a humungous totally awesome and completely nonphotogenic indoor trampoline of the sort I would have loved to have as a kid, tho I doubt they made them back then. I knew right away that trampoline photos weren’t going to be any good because indoor natural light is low light compared to outdoor natural light and low-light trampoline photos generally all look pretty similar, if you know what I mean. Nonetheless, I was able to get a shot of Opal showcasing the very nice natural light possibilities of the playroom.
Planning to go outside, everyone put on shoes. I love photos of moms putting on their kids shoes and socks. I think it’s because I remember how relaxing it was to have Mom squeeze and push and prod my floppy little foot in attempt to get it into my shoe. Then came the inevitable moment when she would say, in a slightly annoyed tone, “You could help me if you push.”
Before we went outside, I took a few more shots. First, atop the kitchen table.
I think it is possible for a foot portrait to say as much as a face portrait.
Then, boots and all, we went to the living room, where Teressa found the children hiding behind the curtains—
—and decided to join them.
Finally, we went outside. We took some nets. You never know what you might find.
Opal found the wind.
Teressa found that her feet didn’t get as wet as she expected.
And Wilbur found that if you just keep walking, you eventually get home.
2014 P52 Week 25: Slow Shutter
So. I went out in the pouring rain (um, it wasn’t pouring when I left the house) with my hydrophobic, very very clingy two-year-old, my camera, my shutter release cable (my camera cannot take a remote), a rather small tripod, and a rather large umbrella, among other things. We went into the local woods. I wanted to get some nice misty woodsy slow shutter shots. My first 25 shots were completely black. By this time it was certainly pouring and I realized I’d forgotten Iris’ raincoat. The biggest problem, however, was that I only have two hands: one for the camera, one for the umbrella, one for the shutter release, one for the toddler and— wait— that’s already more than two.
My first few awesome-seeming shots were, as mentioned, black. Eventually I learned this was because, for some reason, the camera has a minimum shutter speed of 1/35Â in Aperture Priority. Maybe I set it that way. So, after bush-whacking through stinging nettle and phototoxic giant hogweed, we came to my favorite secret little sand bar on the river. There I huddled under my umbrella with Iris and fiddled with the camera and the (stupid) shutter release and eventually figured out, more or less, what I was doing. I put the camera on fully manual and took a few lousy shots.
In theory, I should be able to leave the shutter on my camera open for 30 seconds, but I could only figure out how to get it to ¼ second, which left me using f5.6 when I really wanted f16. I hadn’t thought of raising the ISO yet. So I took some slightly less lousy shots in the woods. By this time, I was carrying wet Iris in a wet carrier on my back and kneeling down in the mud my wet pants.
I went on in this manner for some time, taking mostly lousy shots until I came to the river again, where I set up my tripod in attempt to get that fuzzy water look. I took some more lousy shots in the pouring rain. They are generally slightly blurry everywhere, which I blame on either (a) camera shake or (b) rain. Did I mention the quantity of mosquitos?
Then I carried Cutie and my loot to the stone bench, where I tried, at last, to take some photos of my adorable daughter who had briefly let go of my hand to pick her nose. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t take her finger out of her nose until she needed it to wipe a blackfly from her eye.
Then we went home. Amazingly, a good time was had by all, and the camera stayed more or less dry.
Into the Woods
Fleet of foot,
Joshua leads.
We follow.
Joshua throws big rocks.
Iris walks carefully,
studying the rocks.
It was a beautiful morning.
The Big Bad Wolf Visits New Village Farm
a horror in five acts
1.
Girl deposits Big Bad Wolf in makeshift throne amongst the pines at nearby farm.
(Music of innocence.)
2.
Close-up of Big Bad Wolf.
(Music of building action.)
3.
A happy pig eats watermelon in the sunshine.
(Music of danger lurking nearby.)
4.
Averted camera.
(Squealing! Snarling! Smacking of wolfly-chops! Music of horror!)
5.
Witnesses.
(Silence. A gull’s cry.)
Suspension Bridge
We went down to the suspension bridge over the LaPlatte River. The suspension bridge replaces the log with the rickety handrail that I crossed over so many times with Iris on my back that first winter. But the log with the rickety handrail is gone and the suspension bridge is closed: tied closed, ladder up. Someone on the other side of the river built the suspension bridge for kids to cross on their way to school. No one, as far as I know, fell in or through or even so much as got a splinter on the bridge. But it’s closed now. It probably made some nervous grown-ups extra nervous. Silly grown-ups. They always go and spoil the fun.
June 6th update:
Here is a link to the Shelburne News about the bridge and why it is closed.
