When Time Collided in the Sky

                      

There I was, all bundled up in a lawn chair in my front yard, waiting for the lunar eclipse to take place.  Everyone else I’d been in contact with reported rain and clouds.  There were clouds, but they were intermittent.  I could only hope for the best, as well as wishing my hubby would come out and join me.  “Too many mosquitoes,” was his claim.

I had no idea where my tripod was.  I’m sure it was probably in one of the storage containers from our move.  All I could do was set my camera on a pallet of cement blocks that were meant for the addition on our house.  The pallet was at slight angle, so I had to prop a towel underneath my camera to keep it level.  The only light I had was from my cell phone.

Once the clouds cleared, it seemed like forever for the eclipse to begin.  In the meantime, I  amused myself with Panda Pop. 

When my eyes got tired of the white light on my cell phone, I rested them back on the moon. This probably went on for a good thirty minutes.  

Right about then, my hubby came out to sit with me.  He was bundled to the max, even though not one mosquito had been reported the whole time I had been sitting there. 

 I’ll admit, I was a bit concerned about any decent pictures.  All I had was a 200mm zoom, and if you know anything about lenses, that’s pretty weak.  On top of that, I was shooting RAW for the first time.  

“Set it to Manual.  See what happens,” messaged my sister on Facebook, earlier.  I didn’t want to admit I had never done that.  When one of the girls in my photography group mentioned the same thing, I thought, “I was doomed.”  Don’t ask why I didn’t say anything at the time.  I really don’t know.

Thank goodness, a writer friend posted a link to an article about taking photos of the eclipse by shooting RAW.  I was so thankful.  It gave me enough time to understand what I needed to do.  It made me laugh because I finally learned what the little black dial and the AV button was for on my camera.

What I couldn’t figure out was where to find the shutter settings.  So, there I was, turning that little black dial on the front of my camera, while holding down the AV button, snapping away at the moon.  Obviously, I felt like I was driving blind.  All of a sudden, I saw them.  Inside the viewfinder.  I felt so stupid.  

Finally, the shadow began to slowly move across the face of the moon.  At the same time, we let our eyes wander to other parts of the sky, trying to make out the constellations.  

We began talking about our own childhood and how our parents would point out the constellations.  “Is that the Little Dipper?” my husband asked. I was certain it wasn't.  How I wished our own grandchildren could have been with us that night. 

I was pretty pleased with my photos, even with a weaker lens.  I learned about using another aspect of my camera.  

Most of all, I loved how the past, the present, and the future, all came together at that time for me.

How an Online Photography Course Broadened My Vision

Last month, I took a wonderful photography e-course given by Tammy Strobel of Rowdy Kittens.  I’d been following her blog for several years, and had watched her photography grow.  Every time, she would offer her course, I would tell myself, “maybe next time.”  So, when she made the announcement this would be the last opportunity to take her online photography class, I wasn’t about to pass it up.

Twice a week, Tammy posted instructions and a video for us.  She set up a private Facebook group for us to share our work.  I was surprised to learn many of the members had taken Tammy’s course three and four times.  No wonder their work was so amazing!  Even though the course has finished, we still gather there to share and comment.  Many of us have connected outside of the group to Flickr and Instagram.

Towards the end of the class, I wasn’t able to venture away from the house, much.   The usual things I had been photographing were looking rather unappealing.   The Mums were getting to be  “old hat” in my photos, as well as other things.  Then, one day, I was in the kitchen and happened to glance at a bowl of fresh peaches.  Ding!

I grabbed a few, ran outside, and placed them on our old picnic table by the
“old hat” Mums.   At first, I wasn’t sure.  It didn’t seem like enough to make a good photo, until I considered throwing a couple of leaves with them.  After a little placement adjusting, it was perfect.  And, rather than take my photo from the usual perspective, I stood above it.

Once I uploaded the photo, it became obvious that it needed something more – a quote.  It took a little bit of time; but, once I found one, the whole thing came together, perfectly.   Tammy had talked about grouping, but for some reason, I seemed to have forgotten about that. 

Grouping things in a creative manner has more pizzazz, more power to the end product.  Individually, each has its own beauty, yes.  Combined?  It becomes a small symphony: each one playing in harmony with the next.  Likewise, had it not been for this wonderful group of photographers, it would have taken me much longer to move to the next level of self-awareness and confidence (if ever at all).  And, had it not been for the constant encouragement of my writing group, I wouldn’t have completed this post.

More than ever, I find myself searching for something to photograph. Taking Tammy’s course has spurned me to take what I know and go a little further with it.  That’s why I’ve decided to take another online photography course in a couple of weeks. 

Joy Sussman specializes in nature photography.  She was one of the gals in our photography group.  Her work is stunning.  You can find her writing at JoyfullyGreen.   I can’t wait to learn from her and share more of my photos with you.

Isn't it interesting how a small group of people can help build one's confidence enough to think you can do just about anything? That's what they did for me.  Now, I'm considering making cards with some of my photographs.  I'm even thinking about creating a book from my photos for my 5 year old grandson who's just learning to read.  I get pretty excited about that.

I think I'm on a roll.

Timing is Everything

Waiting to be discovered

When we first moved to New York State in late June, my husband and I set out to start a habit of walking three miles each morning, as much as possible.  I suppose the newness of the move brought the usual excitement that comes with a fresh start.  As time progressed, our walk began to fall by the wayside.  It took everything in me to just get dressed and put my tennis shoes on.  Several times, my husband went on without me.  At first, I felt guilty; but, it went away.  Then, something happened.

I decided to get on the scale.  That was both good and bad.  I’ve gained all my weight back from two years ago.  “Throw caution to the wind,” she said as she finished off the last two chocolate Macadamian bites from the box her son brought from his trip to Hawaii.  Oh, and of course, she needed to make berry pies for her son – you know from the berries they all picked together at their last visit in July? The good? It was time to get serious about my health. 

The second motivating factor came from an article in the Huffington post,  "Shinrin Yoku.”  This is also known as 'forest bathing'.  It's how Japanese de-stress and declutter their minds by taking long walks in the woods. After reading the article, I realized I wasn't getting the opportunity to enjoy our surroundings.  I needed to enjoy my walk, not focus on the time and distance.  The article refreshed my perspective.

Now, don't think this made starting any easier.  In fact, I balked at the whole thought, even though I knew it was the right thing to do.  Maybe it was because I got up a little later and I was still waiting for the fog to move out of my brain.  I grumbled while tying my tennis shoes, but I managed to make it out the door, and follow my hubby down the drive.  Once I hit the pavement, things seemed to look up for me.

We began to slow our pace to observe the changing flora.  Some were dying off, some were turning red, yellow, and orange; and, others were new growth.  Since we weren't actually walking in the woods, I could only observe the bark textures from a distance.  One towering pine stood out. The needles seem to drape down from the branches.  It reminded me of the Spanish moss that hung from the water oaks back in Georgia.  My guess is it was a  Norwegian pine.  By this time, I was feeling a bit like Annie Dillard at Tinker Creek. 






I was on constant vigilance for my next photo.  A bunch of milkweed pods became an interesting subject.  A close up shot made it seem as though I was walking in a southwestern desert.  

The Monarch's Life Source

My husband commented about a conversation we had with a friend regarding the Monarch butterflies.  With the decline of milkweed, the Monarchs have no place to lay their eggs causing them to no longer migrate to North America.  You can read more here. 

By the time we headed back, the sky had a bit of an overcast.  One of the things Tammy encourages is spontaneity.  Rather than be too fussy about my subjects, I just picked some of the nearest weeds, got down on my knees, and looked up into the sun.

All of this probably would never have taken place had I not stepped on the scale or read the Huffington Post article.

Timing is everything.

A Butterfly in the Sun

It's been a little over two months since my husband retired and we moved north from coastal Georgia. Talk about opposite ends of the earth, huh? 


Our house in New York has been rented out since the early 90s.  Needless to say, it needs a lot of TLC.  Of course, renovation means one thing - chaos.

In order to keep myself sane, I decided to do something I've wanted to do for ages - enroll in an online photography course.  Every so often, Tammy Strobel who writes at Rowdy Kittens offers one.

I've always loved Tammy's photography.  When she began to offer photography courses, I would tell myself  'maybe next time'.  No more.  I decided now's the time.  Taking the plunge gave me a sense of normalcy, not to mention help build my confidence in my photography.


Self-Discipline

Having weekly lessons and a group to share our photos with does wonders for keeping me motivated.  I find myself looking forward to each day.  I love seeing photos that others post and reading the comments.  Adding to the old saying of "every picture tells a story," I'm more inclined to write everyday.  It also helps me to stay focused (pun intended) and not to be scattered like my house.


Observation

I'm becoming more keen of my surroundings.  I was at the library the other day when half a dozen delightful butterfly mobiles caught my eye.  My first inclination was to just stand and admire them. Then, I remembered this week's lesson about shooting into the sun.  I couldn't have asked for a more perfect opportunity.  

Patience and Experience

I realize that it takes patience. What I see through the lens isn't always the finished product.  For instance, a vibrant evening sky isn't necessarily as vibrant when I'm done.

Everything is a learning process, especially when it comes to light.  It has so many different effects which create a variety of moods.  Last night, I went out just before sunset.  The sky was overcast and made it difficult for me to capture what I intended.  I was rather disappointed, but I posted them, anyway.

After considering some of the comments my peers made, I realized the mood created by the overcast was rather interesting: dreamlike and soft. It wasn't as bad as I first thought.

None of this would be happening if I hadn't taken the plunge.  For so long, I put something off that I really wanted, badly.  Unfortunately, the timing wasn't right.  But, now that I have,

I feel as free as a butterfly in the sun.