He was sitting on the edge of the bridge, watching my son and me walk along the edge of the road. I did not notice him until a loud motorcycle came by and drew my attention in his direction. I waved and smiled. He waved and smiled back. I raised my camera and he gave me this look.
I do not know if this look means it was okay to take the photo or not.
That little speck down in the water is a man. A fisher man. A fisherman.
Also, this was my first attempt at this week’s WordPress Photo Challenge, Through, but when I looked at it when I got it home all I could think was that he was too small to really see. Still, I like the photo.
Happy Monday, everyone.
Today is my first day back to work after Spring Break. In conjunction with the first day back, I’m also on my first day back after having had a student teacher for six weeks. I’m feeling really rusty, and hoping for the best. Please send your hopes and encouragement my way today, and I’ll hope that I make it through.
This was shot at an aperture of f3.5. It was shot on a kit lens, the Pentax-DA 18-55mm F3.5-5.6 AL II to be exact. It’s what comes with a Pentax K200D, and the lens that I bought for my K20D. This lens is a good lens for the money (about $100), but the lowest aperture is not particularly low. I have a Pentax A 50mm lens that has it’s biggest aperture at f1.7. That’s a low aperture.
But Marc, that’s a lower number but you wrote that the aperture was bigger. What gives? Well, the lower the number, the larger the aperture (opening). So what? The photo’s background, above, is somewhat out of focus, leaving the viewer with the sense of depth that would not occur had the entire photo been in focus. The lower the aperture, the less of the photo that is in focus, the more a sense of depth is felt by the viewer. Make sense?
If you want to have a little fun, mess with your aperture on your camera. Your photos will turn out differently than if you leave all of the work to your camera, and you might end up with a result that you like better than the automatic settings.
I’ve learned that the part of blogging I like the most is the motivation to take more and better photographs. It inspires me to move and look for great photographic vistas, to become better at shooting subjects and processing the photos afterwards.
What I’m not that excited about is the process of writing about my photos. I find that I delve far too often into cliché and that I’m sometimes at a loss for what the photo might mean, or what it brings up in my head. Sometimes, like my shots from Disneyland, the words just flow out of me like they were pre-ordained.
Take this photo. It’s the third I’ve posted of the Alexandra Bridge, the second bridge over this span (built in 1926). It’s a beautiful, old, suspension bridge. Cars and trucks used to used this bridge to travel the Fraser Canyon. Until they built the current bridge, a two lane, modern steel arch construction, everyone had to use this. Now, I’m tempted to start using clichés: All of this talk of the past is really just “water under the bridge.” Or, everyone had to “cross that bridge when they came to it.” Sad, really.
Personally, I think that a photo should speak for itself. Now that I’ve written over two hundred words, I’ll leave you alone to ponder what this photo says to you.
It’s end of term and I’m ready for a good sleep. At the same time, I’m tired and ready to move on to a new group of students. I’ve made some great connections with my students but when you meet with 90 students a day for 80 minutes at a time, cabin fever does eventually settle in. In some cases, I see some students more than their parents do. For our own sanity it’s time to separate for a little while.
I prefer reminiscing about the “good old days” more than I like bemoaning the current days.
I don’t know what to write. Sorry.
Pentax K20D; Pentax DA 18-55mm AL II; f7.1; ISO 100; 1/320 sec.