While exploring the shrubs and trees on the south side of the Rye Patch next to Berrie road, I was attracted to the scene in my Wind Down piece by the naturally abstract design of the vine. I refused to give up on capturing this even though Mother Nature tried hard to convince me that I should move on to another subject. She threw wind, cloud cover, and lighting changes at me, but I would not be deterred. It took more than an hour and over a hundred attempts to create. Composing anything that is connected to a bush or tree is always challenging when you only use natural light and even more so when the magnification level is increased. Their surface area is so large that the smallest amount of wind affects the branches and results in subject movement. Usually employing a plamp will only minimally increase stability since it’s not strong or large enough to counteract the movement of a branch or limb. Having patience becomes very important, which can be quite difficult because, more often than not, you feel that other, better subjects are being missed while you wait for the perfect conditions. If you are also under a time constraint, the pull to seek another opportunity is easily amplified inside your head. If you simply can’t fight that feeling, it sometimes works to convince yourself that there isn’t anything else as good as what you currently want by giving up on it temporarily. That is, complete your exploration of the remaining area and then come back. That doesn’t always work though, and I’ve left images with the intent to return without being able to (e.g., ran out of time, sun went down and I lost too much light, etc.). And I learned a long time ago to never think that you can come back another day. It might seem reasonable at the time, but, for me, that hasn’t ever worked.
I discovered the garden spider and web in my Spun piece while exploring the Rose Garden at the Rye Patch. As soon as I saw all of the squiggly lines on the backside of the web, I instantly knew that I had to capture this scene for my Naturally Abstract gallery. My artistic vision was to fill as much of the frame as I could with the wonderfully stitched web pattern. While not too easy to see, the spider is actually on the other side of the web, which increased both my desirability to create a composition and my excitement level. If you look real close on a larger image, you’ll be able to see some legs and her abdomen. Since the focal point was the web itself and the depth of field was fairly shallow, not much detail in the background remained. That said, individual strands of silk and hairs on her legs are visible.
I’ve created lots of pansy artwork over the years with many of them coming from Patsy’s Garden at the Rye Patch. Maybe she loved them and their wonderful designs as much as I do. Who knows, she may have even agreed with my “Pansies Rock” mantra. Longtime readers of this blog are familiar with her special, memorial area within the Rose Garden, but for those of you who aren’t, my Patsy’s blog tag is a good place to learn more about it. I was attracted to the flower in my Sunburst piece by the pattern of purples that are streaming out and away from the center of it combined with the yellow and orange tones. As I usually do when framing these little flowers, I placed the green heart in the core so that a one third line, using the rule of thirds, crossed it. The high level of captured detail allows lots of tiny dew drops and pollen to be seen.
I was initially attracted to the rose bud in my Wet Paint piece by the colors, which will not be a surprise to anyone who has been reading this blog for a while. Those gorgeous oranges and reds were appealing from the entrance door all the way across the Rose Garden at the Rye Patch. As I got closer to the subject, my artistic vision was to add to my Naturally Abstract gallery by focusing on a specific section of the bud. One of the things that fascinates me about macro photography is how just being physically close to something while simultaneously using magnification can break it down into simple colors and lines. In this case, to the point of not even being able to tell that it’s a flower. I love that, and to achieve it, I composed this at two times life-size. There was a bit of wind the morning I created this and, while I had a Plamp holding the bud, I lowered the F-stop to gain back a little shutter speed. Doing that further reduced the already razor thin depth of field, but that also amplified the aesthetic effect I wanted. The colors reminded me of paint, as if someone had pulled a brush across the frame, and the tiny dew drops that completely cover the surface provide a wet look.
As I was walking through the Rye Patch Rose Garden looking for subjects, I discovered a naturally abstract scene that I couldn’t pass without further investigation. The Rose Garden is an enclosed area with two side entrances that each have a swinging door. Within the garden boundaries are hedges that are usually neatly trimmed in a rectangular shape that further segregate the various areas. On top of one of the hedge rows was a web that was completely covered in dew. Upon closer examination of the area I subsequently captured in Dew Veil, I was struck by how I could see the leaves underneath the web while at the same time the drops of dew created a mask over them. It was a curious effect and almost felt as if I was looking at leaves that had been embedded in glass. I found a group of leaves that had a couple of tips poking up and out of the web as well as other leaves surrounding it in an artistic manner. I then placed that group in the frame so that the rightmost vertical one third line, using the rule of thirds, nearly bisected them. To achieve side-to-side sharpness across the entire frame, a technique known as focus stacking was employed. The high level of captured detail allows web strands and a whole bunch of tiny dew drops to be seen.
I just realized, as I was writing this, that I ended the season at the exact same place I started with an identical type of flower. Patsy’s Garden in the Rye Patch Rose Garden had been recently replanted with pansies. Artistically pleasing specimens were fairly sparse, but this one stood out. I liked the colors (of course), but the tiny dew drops made the difference. The petal surfaces are nearly completely covered resulting in a sparkling effect. Aesthetically, I placed the green heart in the center of the flower just below the bottom one third line, using the rule of thirds, and used it as my focal point. The high level of detail allows surface texture, individual dew drops, and individual pollen pieces to be seen.
The leaves on the tree where my Fall Berries piece was created can be quite colorful in the Fall. They were, as they have been in the past, loud enough to call me over from across the lawn at the Rye Patch. I searched around the tree for artistically pleasing scenes. I wanted good colors in the leaves and at least one berry. For the scene I settled on, I liked how the dark colors of the berries contrasted nicely against the brighter leaves as well as their mixture of purples with the blue reflections. Aesthetically, I found a perspective that kept the berries from touching each other. Then I placed the left most berry on the first lower left crossing line (a little off center), using the rule of thirds, and used it as my focal point.
I normally try to get as much depth of field as I possibly can, but sometimes I have to dial back the F-stop setting. As I’ve posted about previously, photography is about concession management. The wind picked up just as I began exploring the leaves. With the sun not yet able to provide much light through the surrounding trees, I needed several seconds of exposure time. But, Mother Nature insisted on rustling the leaves with a breeze coming on shorter intervals than what I required. To come to an equitable agreement with her, I dropped my F-stop down to F/11 which cut my exposure time down to two seconds. Voila, everybody was happy. And, as a bonus, the background leaves nearly completely dissolved down into simple colors. Even with a shallow depth of field, the high level of detail allows surface textures to be seen.
Though Fall was just a week old, the colorful leaf in my Blown In piece was a clear indicator that more color would soon be on its way. In fact, those colors stopped me dead in my tracks as I was walking up the sidewalk on the east side of the Rye Patch. The leaf contrasted nicely against the darker leaves on the small bushes that line that side of the building. It’s fair to say that it was conspicuous, though I wasn’t sure where it came from, and I didn’t see any other leaves with that much color (even after scanning the nearby trees). The high level of detail allows surface textures to be seen.
White blossoms on a small tree called to me from across the Rye Patch lawn. I’ve never seen a bloom like these in that area before, but I don’t think that it has been planted there for very long. In fact, the tree itself was only a couple of feet taller than I am. The honey bees just loved the flowers and were all over them. After more closely examining one, I loved the star shaped stigma surrounded by the bright orange and yellow anthers and filaments. For my Stigma Star composition, I utilized the stigma as my focal point and placed it on the right most line using the rule of thirds (just a little off center). I wanted to keep as many of the anthers in the frame as possible so the lens was moved slightly right to accommodate that aesthetic desire. The high level of detail allows surface textures on the stigma and anthers to be seen.
After successfully creating a macro version of one of the flowers, I wanted my Tree Flowers composition to show them blooming on the tree. I had to fight a bit more wind to get it, but luckily there was enough light to where I could keep my shutter speed under a second while maintaining a decent depth of field setting. Interestingly, it appears that only one of the flower’s petals has a fuzzy/furry edge. The high level of detail allows individual hairs (around a petal edge) and surface textures to be seen.
I discovered the growth in my Ogre Skin piece on a tree at the Rye Patch. I’m not sure what it is (perhaps some type of moss), but the green colors and pocked, bumpy surface looked pretty cool at two times life-size. I immediately thought that this could be what the skin of an ogre or ugly troll looks like close up. I searched for an area that had a good amount of festering, open pits, and additional colors while keeping height differences moderated (due to the extremely shallow depth of field and my desire to attain as much sharpness as possible).