It's About Time

This discussion all began with a critique by a fellow photographer stating that his preference for showing moving water was with the camera "freezing" movement. He preferred that and suggested  long exposures were artificial.  So, he viewed the creamy texture seen below as not natural.

The exposure for the above image was slow, 0.8 seconds.  I liked this because it gives a feeling of gentle flowing water. It occurs to me that before the invention of the camera shutter, we had no idea of what any moving subject looked like.  Before that, we could not see crashing drops of water spilling over a water fall, or the wings of  the Goldfinch launching into flight seen below.  It was a blur.

Time itself is a human invention.  It was developed for navigators to determine longitude.  Then it was extended in the industrial revolution to economically quantify labor delivered, and later refined to coordinate railroad schedules across wide distances.  Moving pictures use the shutter to create a stack of still images which, when displayed sequentualy at 25 frames per second,  create an illusion of motion.  Again, that is not natural but a human artifice.

 

Our perception of time is also shaped by the speed that our brain processes what we see, clock speed.  If you are driving behind a truck and something falls off the truck and into your lane, it takes your brain about 250 milliseconds to send the orders to  your muscles to brake sharply.  That's 1/4 second.  That won't work for the Louisiana Waterthrush at right.  Survival demands increased speed to capture little water bugs.  So, our human perception of time is not universal.  Our clock speed is natural for us, but not for all creatures.  

 

Here's a big idea.  The shutter allows us to switch to a new perception of time.  It freezes a bird in flight on one side, and alternately revises how we interpret the sea swirling over a rocky coast or how we see a waterfall.  I want to explore how very long exposures present a different interpretation of time.  Below is a winter favorite of mine, Taughannock Falls in nearby Trumansburg, New York.  The gorge and waterfall were created over a span of about ten thousand years following the last ice age.   It is winter now, so ice is appropriate.

The view from the north wall is in two layers -  a warmly lit foreground that is crisply defined and the distant falls in cool blue light.  To me, stopping the water's movement is not what my eyes see.  The gorge walls are reasonably defined so the creamy water speaks for falling water.  

There's an easy hike from near Cayuga Lake up the gorge to near the big falls. 

On both sides of the falling water, there is a constantly evolving filigree of ice formed as varying winds paint patterns of ice.  This was a 1.6 second shutter.  My mind is wrapped in a slower clock speed.  I want to distill the scene even more. I really pushed the clock speed to 48 seconds.

What feelings does this create for you?   For me, I feel the cold, raw power of Taughannock.   

As one retreats back down the gorge, there is a final waterfall that is more complex than the big drop.  It offers some delightful forms to explore with slower shutters.  (I am keeping these images in a cold, blue light because that's usually what my cold hands are feeling like after two hours in the gorge.)

It's a different feeling to me, and the pathways my eye follows are more varied. 

Shifting my lens to the left, I discover another ice sculpture that would be missed at a fast shutter.

It is now five days past when I saw these frozen falls.  We have had three days of very warm, above freezing temperatures.  The ice is nearly gone, but I know the cold will return and create new ice forms.  I'll be back to find new ice sculpturess at a slower clock speed.

Paul Schmitt

 

 

Is it still just a phone? ... or a photographer's tool now?

I recently switched to an iPhone 13 Pro after five years with my iPhone 8.  I'm not a "first" innovator, and the newer iPhone 14 just did not fill any additional needs for me.  Honestly, the three lenses were the major reason.  While in a photo workshop in October, someone kindly allowed me to play with his iPhone 13.  I was sold. Now,  I am going to take you along on my discovery of the phone plus offer a few "hacks" which may liberate you to do even more with a phone camera. 

Mixed in will be images with each of the three lenses.  I hope to keep a good balance with some techie talk.  The experience has lightened the weight when I am exploring new locations looking for future  photography.   I can now move faster with a day pack devoted mostly to water, snacks and maybe battery pack. 

First, I want to highlight an app that offers many advantages over the standard Apple camera controls.  ProCamera was already on my iPhone 8, but I had drifted away from using it until now, when I found it was greatly enhanced.   This app offers high dynamic range (HDR) exposures for scenes with a wide brightness range.   Here's a beautiful sunset in late October.  It used the ultrawide lens.

Look at the detail seen in the shadows without the sun being washed out. ProCamera analyses the situation and usually takes 3 photo spaces to capture from the darkest to brightest areas.  (For ultra cases, it takes 5.)  It was done so quickly that I could handhold the phone. 

Let's look at what each of the three lenses covers at the overlook on Cowanesque Lake south of Corning. 
 

You've seen already the sunset using the ultra-wide lens.  Here is an image using the wide lens.

For the image above, I developed a trick using ProCamera in manual focus.  Photographers choose a small lens aperture so that the background is indistinct.  It keeps your eye on the stump in the foreground.  The iPhone 13 camera does not have an adjustable lens aperture.  However, ProCamera has manual focus plus a feature called focus peaking. Where it detects high contrast around sharply focused places, the screen puts a color highlight on the screen. In the image above, I used the manual focus feature in ProCamera to pull the focus closer to me until only the stump was flashing yellow.   That's one of many useful features it offers.

Next is an image using the tele lens.  In this case, I wanted the image to be sharp for foreground and distant.  Corning Incorporated's headquarters building shows sharpness from red fruit on the trees and right out to the iconic Little Joe Tower.

The versatility of three lenses is clearly seen in these examples.

The small size of a phone opens another window, the ability to place the camera very close to the ground.  This can create a perspective not easily seen (unless you like to lay your head on the bare ground or in a snow drift.)  Here's an example that used the wide lens.

When getting very low, one problem is precisely locating the lens vertically.  Tilted images just don't seem very pleasing.  Here's an example where I wanted to capture a reflection of a tree in a large water puddle on the abandoned farm road.

 

I did this by putting the phone in a holder attached to a small tripod.  The red grips of the Ulanzi ST-03 allow full visibility of the phone screen.  Cost $19.95 at Amazon; it adapts to Arca-style tripod mounts.  With my phone in a protective Otterbox, the Ulanzi is not directly squeezing the phone case. 

Here's another example of a setup using a tripod.  I began from the position seen at right and made a series of small moves until the foreground gate framed the decaying barn with the gate staying just below the lower edge of the barn.  It would be tough to do this handheld, and then to wait for the break in the clouds above roof remnants.

There is one more hack that I've developed.  The only lens filter I ever need is a circular polarizer.  I greatly value a CP filter.  It reduces glare on shiny surfaces whether they be on foliage or water, plus it gives a deeper blue on the sky. I've never seen a filter mount on any phone camera.  I've found  a fix for that.  It combines a SmallRig filter clip with a mating 52mm filter designed to fit the filter clip. See at right:

The details are:

•  SmallRig 52mm Filter Clip from B&H Photo ($30)
  
•  K&F Concept Magnetic 52mm Circular Polarizing   Filter Kit from Amazon ($56)

 Note that the richer blue sky is best done using manual settings in the ProCamera.

So,  when I am traveling light, in the woods or visiting family, I bring a very compact kit of accessories  including the Ulanzi holder, the SmallRig clip, magnetic filter and an ultra small tripod seen also at right.  Add a lens brush and I'm ready.

The first three items fit in a small zipper bag, and along with the small tripod, are easily included where ever I go. 

Yes, I have found this three lens phone to be a great tool.  I'll continue to use my professional cameras and lenses, but maybe I'll reduce my kit by one lens to reduce weight.

Please feel free to contact me if you have any question on ProCamera or the additional tools I've incorporated into my iPhone 13 Pro  kit.

I'll close with a favorite scene that is prepared using Ulanzi on a small tripod.

Paul Schmitt

 

Autumn's Second Season

My engagement with the scenes of fall has been extended by a simple idea.  When the brilliant red maples shed their leaves, it is not over.  I move in to see more closely. On a recent Sunday, I walked along Corning's riverside trails and found unexpected inspiration.  Hidden in an alcove of Corning Incorporated's headquarters building were some hold-out colors reflected in the facade.

Continuing along the river, I found an unexpected wide landscape.  Substitute red sumac for the maple's reds.

Now, let's get a look at what I found on another day along an abandoned farm road.   Again, it's red sumac.

A bit farther along the road, I looked down and found this.  This time, no reds for a change.  Still works.

There doesn't need to be any catchy color, or even color at all, to speak of the second season of autumn.  The killing frost earlier this week removed all green from the delicate maidenhair ferns growing in a corner of my garden.

But, I have to complete my story with a magical jumble of leaves that I found. I could never have assembled such a screen deliberately.  The single feature that stopped me was the beads of water on the overturned leaf in the upper part of the frame.   I recall that this was just after a brief shower.

So, this is my piece on the delights of the second season of fall.  It extended my autumn.

All of these images used my recently acquired iPhone 13 Pro and the ProCamera app that extends controls greatly beyond the Apple offering.

Paul Schmitt

Adirondack Autumn Concluded- Seeing in Sixes

Waterfalls and autumn colors are a strong combination.  Here's an image that I had to work hard to compose and yet leaves me with mixed feelings. Why?   The central drop over the precipice hits a huge boulder in the lower right corner and is strongly redirected by 90 degrees to the left.  My eye often follows the flow downward to the right and continues out of the frame; but at times I accept the redirect to the center.

Another waterfall looks best in monochrome.  This has a backstory of a missed opportunity.   A fisherman was casting a fly rod next to the left bridge foundation.  I wanted to show the beautiful arc of the rod as the line looped out over the stream.  That would add a beautiful plus in the composition.  Needed to increase shutter speed.  In the half minute to make the change, he moved downstream and out of the frame.  Lost it!

Never assume the magic with continue.  Still, I like the image as is.

The Adirondacks are about rocks, often big ones.  The huge ones are called glacial erratics.   Their size and mass amazes me.  A rough calculation suggests that this one weighs about 110 tons.  In the fall, the fallen leaves starkly reveal its size.

In fall, I am often looking at the ground after any rain hoping to see mushrooms. That explains why my right knee is often dirty, as I find it necessary to get as low as possible.  The variety of sizes, colors and forms seen in fungi is of great interest to me.  This guy was hard to initially see, as it blended in with the freshly fallen leaf litter.  It's part of the classification called LBMs,  Little Brown Mushrooms.

While exploring the trails at Lake Durant, I discovered a nice joke.   Someone pried open the hollow remains of a fallen tree to position a nice bird box in the center.  Maybe a good caption for the photo would be: 

Is anybody home?

Probably not in October.

After the group dispersed, our leader Chris Murray noted in a message that there is a second part of autumn, which I take to be when attention shifts to smaller areas closer to the ground and more intimate.  Here is the final image that takes it direction from Chris's teaching.

 It offers simple colors and no distractions from the central subject.  I am continuing to photograph here at home mostly using a new phone camera with multiple lenses.  I will post on my progress learning the new system soon.

Paul Schmitt

Adirondack Autumn Continued- Seeing in Sixes

Autumn in temperate regions carries many meanings.  It is a sign of the impermanence of life.  There are abundant examples in the fall colors, foggy mornings, killing freezes in the garden, apple harvesting and the need for a warm sweater.  A calm October day in the Adirondacks stirs the spirits while reminding one that it is ephemeral. A cold front with steady rain will erase the view.

  The sensible person does not delay.  

It is also a time to look deeper, maybe lower to the textures that the falling leaves create.  This scene captured my attention. At the tree's base are different measures of permanence.  Soon, the fern will  wither like the tree's leaves. 

Water and autumn colors are sometimes a magical combination.  The first image of leaves reflected on glassy smooth water is highly attractive.  Add moving water and a bit of fog to add drama.

Maybe it time for a more serene moment to see the patterns usually overlooked.  The red and yellow are backed by green with little to confuse the brain.  Lovely.

 Now for a sundown finale.  

It was amazing.

 

Paul Schmitt

Adirondack Autumn- Seeing (It) in Sixes

Back from two and a half days exploring a small part of the Adirondacks during peak color.  The beauty at that time can be overwhelming and even intimidating.  It is so easy to create a repetitive package of photos that fail to really explore anything beyond the sweeping landscape view for example.  I will limit each of my blog posts to a set of just six images. Each photo is selected to offer a different subject and also use a different expanse of the shot.  (In video production, the type of shots used go from the master shot to the close up in six steps.)  Consider this an experiment in creativity.

Let's begin with the early mornings in autumn.  It's quiet and chilly that early.  Often it offers soft light on a foggy mountain lake as below.  A distant point on the lake is obscured by the fog.

After day break on another morning, the water is far from placid where the Raquette River cascades  toward Long Lake. The golden birch on the distant bank becomes a dappled reflection in the foreground.

Looking more closely in the forest, there is a pleasing symphony of colors.  Reds and yellows are separated the the bluish green of a few pine boughs.  This is easy to miss amid the temptations of waterfalls and wide angle views.

Autumn offers offers many ways to become immersed in the day.  Doesn't an afternoon paddle on the lake sounds wonderful?  Take your dog too.  Heavenly, I'd say.

For a new twist, let's abandon the fall colors to look at how weather can create an interesting image. The autumn fog that hugs the lake is flanked by a distant cloud bank, and both are duplicated in reflections on the lake with some detail added by the lake grasses.  It resembles some supersonic passage of some strange projectile. 

Now for the final image from my first day. On that particular night, the lunar cycle was approaching the Hunter's Moon.  It's bright.  I'm back on the same lake seen above, but at night.  The moon is so bright that I can dimly see the form of a canoe and a red kayak on the shore.  The fires of a few campers appear on the lake shore.  Above the canoe in the sky is Jupiter plus a few stars.  

What a way to end a day of photography.

Paul Schmitt

Fall Mushrooms- Seeing in Sixes

Looking at any of my mushroom field guides, I am intrigued by the variety of forms and colors I see.  The arrival of some nice September rains whispers to me "mushroom foray."  True, a foray is supposed to involve a group collecting fungi for food.  I collect only images, and there are few willing to tolerate my spending 30 minutes photographing just one subject.  So, it's a solo foray.

One rule for my Seeing in Sixes posts is that I can only include new images.  The fun is in the hunt for something new.  Let's begin with a decaying tree stump that resembled a mountain peak.

It reminds me of the rugged peaks in Patagonia that I saw in 2019.   The little orange mushrooms seem to be ascending the steep slopes.

Recalling how I am attracted to the colors seldom seen, the tender purple color of the next fungi was impossible to bypass.  The yellow and light orange leaves also attracted me as they are complementary.

Some would find it humorous to see how obsessed I was with finding the right background.  That clearly explains why I do this solo.

Next is a fungi that really excites me when I find one.  Coral Tooth-fungus presents itself in many forms as it erupts on the side of a tree.

This one had a nice green growth of what I believe is lichen.  It is difficult to capture slightly off-white textures, but luckily the sky was cloudy so there was no sun to blow out the whites. 

Next I found a two-for-one to share.  Fresh Chanterelles on the right are accompanied by the dried shell of a puffball.   (I really got my knees dirty getting down low for this shot.)

The best part here was that nothing had started eating the trumpet edges.  The next mushroom was not quite as fortunate.  Still, I liked the cap's rich color and the setting in the lee side of a decaying limb.

So, I am now at number six.  I wanted to end with this abundant cluster of individual mushrooms.  It is uncommon to see so many so closely packed.  There are at least twenty-six. 

Sometimes, I am asked if a particular fungi is edible. Not important to me.  My reply sometimes is on the line of "sure, but you may have a terrible experience a bit later." I am quite pleased with what I can buy in the grocery.

This is what I found in two outings this week.  I hope it is entertaining to you.  Perhaps it will inspire you to find similar beauty after an autumn rain.

Paul Schmitt