Saturday, Sylvia wrapped up a week with her family at Glen Lake. It is one of her favorite places on earth and where we spent our honeymoon.
At the end of another great day
I like the way that Sylvia used the trees to form a frame around the image of the setting sun. As you can see, the cottage sits high above Glen Lake, but the lot extends down to the shoreline.
Cousin, Linette Crosby, took this photo from a different spot and shows how great the view is from the cottage.
From that lofty vantage point, you can also see a bit of Sleeping Bear Sand Dune and Lake Michigan.
I received a message from Linette this morning. She wanted to know was anyone at the cottage on Sunday. Were they okay?
Storms had moved through on Sunday. She also wanted to know about any storm damage at the cottage. We had no info on that.
Here’s what had Linette concerned: Glen Arbor Hit by Tornado.
We hope everyone and everything is okay. The family has the cottage listed for sale.
Driver, Brad Keselowski, had a brake problem (self inflicted?). He didn’t stop in the pit box. The crew can cross the wall when the driver is one box away from entering his pit box. The results were not very nice–ugly, I’d say.
Hats off to the two crew! They got up and completed the pit stop.
Because a tire bounced off the hood and went rolling away, Brad was penalized and the number 2 car went a lap down.
Ugly day, right? Yes it was.
No further mishaps and Brad drove the car to a second-place finish. Looks like this team made a great comeback.
As I sat at desk, I glimpsed movement from the corner of my eye. Birds. Large birds walking on the edge of the lawn. Are they turkeys?
It’s not unusual to spot turkeys in this neighborhood. But five of them? That’s a first.
With camera in hand, I found a better location to observe the avian action. The young birds explored the border between lawn and willow thicket.
They turned back toward the road. Just before reaching the ditch, they entered the tall grass as they sought cover among the willows.
Playing “Follow the Leader”
I love this neighborhood, flower, fauna and folk.
Yesterday, I harvested peas, green beans, cherry tomatoes, purslane, red romaine and Swiss chard. (I’m thinking salad. Wouldn’t you?) I was cleaning my harvest at the kitchen sink when I noticed the light had changed.
I looked up, paused and then made a dash for the camera. Out on the front deck I capture this image.
Looks like the smithy is hard at work
I’ve shared other sunset photos recently, but this seems to me the best. However, like the others, the spectacular vision fades. (Sic transit gloria mundi.)
This fiery vision also makes me think of beauty that doesn’t fade. A glory that endures.
Yesterday about a half-hour before sunset, I went out with my camera. My goal was to capture an image of the beautiful red rose that is in full bloom.
I chose that time of day for the soft light. On a cloudless day with the sun high in the sky, outdoor scenes will have very high contrast. While our eyes handle this well, it is not an optimum situation for capturing a photographic image.
Also around sunset the breeze usually stills. Nothing like trying to capture an image of a long-stemmed flower in a gusty breeze.
It even looks soft!
There was more to see while I was in Sylvia’s flower gardens with the camera.
Reminds me of a star
I’m amazed at the contrast in this back-lit blossom. It seems to call out for attention.
This next one is not high in contrast, but I like the fullness of the flower. You can also see some of the other colors on the “lower level.”
You see this and know that somebody loves you
I like the quality of the light in these photos. It gives a soft texture to the image.
It was nice to have no breeze while shooting photos. The down-side is that there is no hindrance to the mosquitoes that love to dine on our blood.
The enhanced picture
Yesterday, I posted the picture of Sunday’s sunset as my camera saw it. I wanted to show you what I saw on the canvas of my mind. While better, this still doesn’t do justice to the fiery glory of that sky.
I probably wouldn’t have mentioned it were it not for what happened last evening. Sylvia had called from Glen Lake and as we were talking I heard the distinctive sound of air brakes. Sylvia said a big truck had just stopped in front of the cabin. Soon, I heard a male voice with a Carolina accent. The driver asked for permission to shoot a picture of the lake, which Sylvia granted. I heard him say, “My wife won’t believe this when I get home to South Carolina!”
The time was about 9:30 PM and the sun was below the horizon. The cabin is a couple hundred feet or so above the lake. The view is spectacular. Sylvia said, “I don’t know what he could have captured in this light.”
He was pleased. I heard him thank her as he returned to his truck and continued on his way down the road. (It’s down in every direction from the cabin, except across the road which continues to rise.)
With today’s digital photography he may have done okay. I’m surprised at what my new camera does.
That’s what inspired me take “digital liberties” with today’s image.
More to follow on this topic.
The bard wrote these lines for Brutus in his play, Julius Caesar. “There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.”
My mom used to put it this way, “It’s to late to close the barn door after the horse is out.” You probably know more expressions of the importance of timing.
I’ve seen the critical nature of timing many times while trying to catch action in a photo. Thanks to digital photography and burst mode, I’ve been able to capture action in a still shot.
Last night, I saw that illustrated in nature. I was on the phone with my son, Scott. I was walking toward the office to check on something when I looked out the window. I continued to the office, picked up my camera and went out onto the front deck.
Unfortunately, the camera does not capture the vivid contrast that my eye saw. I didn’t want to mess with the image so this has only been resized.
As our conversation continued, I told Scott what I was seeing. And as I watched, the glory began to fade. Rather slowly, but it was also obviously fading.
Have you experienced the importance of timing?
Some times your day doesn’t go according to plan.
In other words, “hasty makes wastey.”
On Saturday, I went out to check the garden. The peas were ready for picking. Everything else was looking good. That’s when I realized that there was something different about the light. A glance at the sky sent me back to the house to fetch the camera.
Here’s what I had seen:
We don’t often see shelf clouds like this
On the front deck I capture more images.
This looked ominous
Peas can wait. I’m taking pictures.
The front kept moving toward me
A couple of seconds later, I could see an interesting boundary passing over head.
Does it make you feel uncomfortable?
There would be no more images of interest in this system. I turned and walked back in the house.
Shortly after the door closed the rain began. Heavy rain. Very heavy rain.
Zucchini and butternut squash are not appreciating all this rain. I don’t like to see their yellow leaves. However, it was fun to watch this front approaching.
Recently, I sat here at this computer as I surfed the Internet. The bright sunlight coming through the window seemed to be blinking . . . What?
In one glance, I could see that swallows were feasting on insects flying near the house. Could I capture an image?
I stood and then I saw the spectator bleaches at the air show were full. I slowly lifted the blinds, but the audience remained calm.
Perhaps they like the warm pavement
I particularly enjoy watching these fellows in flight. They are so graceful–maneuverable too. They are frequently there to keep me company as I mow.
A few weeks ago I looked out a window at the garden. I detected movement. Oh no! Two rabbits were checking our romaine. I stepped outside and started to talk to them as I waked toward the rabbits. They watched, not twitching a muscle.
Then I clapped my hands . . . loudly. The rabbits panicked. And started to run to the opposite side. The first one leaped and made it through a hole in the fence. As that one ran away, the second one followed. Leap and stuck at the hips, he was left hanging in the fence. Feet flailing air. He managed to back out.
A second try met with the same result. I continued to approach talking and clapping. The poor bunny was terrified. He ran to another end where the path is blocked with chicken wire fence. No wriggling through that.
He turned hard left running beside the fence and into more fence. Spin around and run as fast as you can, he seemed to be thinking. Then as he sped toward the end, he gave on tremendous leap and cleared the 24″ fence.
I laughed as I watched him run out of sight. Do you suppose that rabbits tell their grandchildren about their great adventures? Hhmmm . . .