Autumn tears

There are times when God asks nothing of his children except silence, patience and tears.
- C S Robinson

Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Autumn bokeh 2

Another autumn bokeh shot, courtesy of an ornamental fruit tree in my front yard and a maple tree across the street. Lighting supplied by God.

OK, technical point: Everything in the shot was supplied God.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Happy Friday

I hope that wherever the path leads you this weekend, you may find wonder and beauty.

Have a good one.

Photo: Ladybug's Journey. Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Photoblogging: Brian McCarty In the last couple of posts featuring squirrels-eye views of autumn, I talked about staying connected to the activities of youth. Brian McCarty is a photographer that never lost his fascination with toys. Brian photographs toys in real-life surroundings, blurring the line between what’s real and not real. Check out Brian McCarty’s online portfolio.

Autumn bokeh

Bokeh is a Japanese-originated photographic concept pertaining to the quality of the out of focus area of a photograph. I am also Japanese-originated, but I digress. Many photographers have some pretty strong feelings about what may be considered “good bokeh” or “bad bokeh.” I am only now coming to understand what the fuss is all about.

Basically I am in the camp of “if it looks good to me, it must be OK.” From what I’ve gathered so far, however, it’s the out of focus points of light in a photo’s background that reveals the quality of the bokeh and, by association, the quality of the lens being used. These out of focus points of light are called “circles of confusion” and are not to be confused with the sometimes out of focus writing at Points of Light.

Some lenses render fuzzy points of light with a brighter core that fades toward the edge while others render a brighter outer ring that fades toward the center. Still others render a rather flat point of light. One optics expert suggests that lenses that render “bright core” circles of confusion produce more pleasing bokeh than those that render “bright ring” circles or flat circles. He also tested a number of lenses and discovered that even in a single lens, bokeh may change depending on aperture, focal distance and the direction of both direct and reflected light entering the lens. As if circles of confusion weren’t confusing enough.

If you are losing sleep at night not knowing the bokeh-bilities of your favorite lenses, you can test them thusly: poke a pinhole in a piece of black paper (try to make the hole as uniformly round as possible), illuminate it from the back and take some photos at various angles and focal distances, then analyze the resulting photographs.

My 135mm 2.8 prime Nikkor lens, which I used for the above photo, produces the coveted “bright core” circles of confusion at the closest focal distances and maximum aperture opening. Yay for me. Not bad, considering the lens was given to me by a friend after he purchased it on eBay for about ten bucks. Way to go, John.

Now that I've thoroughly confused you about circles of confusion, you may now focus on the photo above.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

A Queen Anne sky

I don't know what the technical name is for the expanse of small tufts of high level clouds (update: cirrocumulus clouds), but it seemed perfect for this shot. The Queen Anne's lace grew in a vacant lot adjacent to an outlet mall in Huntley, Illinois. The stalks are now dried and lifeless, but the sky presents a picture of what this field used to look like when the flowers were new and fresh and tufts of white spread far upon the earth. Those earthly blooms are now only to be seen in the sky.

Add to this scene the fact that the day has drawn to a close and it becomes a poignant reminder of the things I've experienced over the last several weeks. I guess this picture could represent the past and present. It also offers some hints as to the future.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

The oak in autumn

Being strong and sturdy, the oak tree has come to represent longevity and wisdom. Like wisdom, the tree is something that stands the test of time. It has fought and struggled and withstood storms and harsh conditions. It prevails.

Standing as I do at the midway point of my life, I find myself wishing that I knew ten or twenty years ago what I know now. Sometimes you have to experience some tough times and tackle some tough lessons in order to gain wisdom. I’m a bit more gnarled and scarred than I was in my twenties and thirties, but I have more wisdom to show for it now.

This is another experiment in exposure blending – this photo is the blending of two exposures, one for the foreground grass and one for the branches and foliage standing against the late afternoon sun. An Orton effect was added in post-processing.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

A Simple Brown Leaf

Wasn’t it just yesterday that the leaves were new and green and summer seemed a million miles away? Time has flown. This leaf has served its purpose for the tree from which it came, and now lies fallen with its comrades. It now serves another purpose – nutrient for the soil in which the tree grows.

In the imaginative mind of short story writer L.J. Davis, leaves sometimes perform extra duty.

The wind picked up and tenderly plucked the simple brown leaf from the tree which it called home. It was unsuspecting. Moving gingerly back and forth in the gentle breeze, flittering casually as the wind tickled its papery form, the leaf did not expect to be taken away so soon. It did not seem that long ago when it first unfolded from sprout to maturity. How could time move so quickly, it thought.

Read the rest of L.J. Davis' short story A Simple Brown Leaf.

Monday photoblogging: You may feel the entire world is out to get you, but don't go down without a fight.

Photograph: Fallen. Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Autumn: What the squirrel saw

Yesterday was a beautifully sunny autumn day. In the late afternoon, the sun created patterns of light across my backyard, so I grabbed a camera and took a walk around the house, looking for interesting sights to photograph.

The low angle light created some brilliant backlighting on the grass and some of the oak leaves that lay on the ground. The best way to capture it was to get close to the earth. So I did.

After I had taken this photo I was reminded of those times when I played in piles of leaves when I was young. So in this instance, capturing the present included a bit of reliving the past.

Maybe that's the way it always is.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

End of the season? Or what goes around comes around

Rental boats sit on the beach, ready to be placed into storage until next year. This was also taken at Shabbona Lake State Recreation Area (yesterday's photo) with my dad's Canon TL. The last time I had used this camera was in high school, more years past than I really care to mention. But let's put it this way; back then, a 50s greaser ruled the TV airwaves, Sylvester Stallone made his best movie ever - at the time it was his only movie, so I am technically accurate - Peter Frampton came alive and Time and Newsweek simultaneously proclaimed a guy named Springsteen as the "new Dylan." But I digress.

Or maybe I don't digress. Maybe it is appropriate to revisit the passage of time. Like these boats or my dad's cameras or even our own memories, things get put away for a while then are rediscovered, taken back out, dusted off and enjoyed again for a season, then the cycle repeats.

Back then I never thought that 30 years hense, I'd look back on those things that seemed so important and cool and just shake my head in wonder that we fell for that kind of stuff. But then again, today we have a musical about 50s greasers burning up Broadway, AARP member Sylvester Stallone still capitalizing on that first movie, Frampton has come back alive more times than a zombie in a B-movie and Mr. Springsteen is in his umpteenth reinvention.

OK, so maybe the more things change the more they stay the same?

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Last leaf

A lone red leaf hangs on in a stand of sumac bushes at Shabbona Lake State Recreation Area near DeKalb, Illinois.

My family decided that I should have my dad's photo equipment. I looked through cabinets filled with cameras and I returned home with a 60s vintage Canon TL, the camera I cut my photographic teeth on when I was in junior high school. I also returned with an old Polaroid 340 Land camera. I'd like to experiment with some black and white shots. Some marvelously inventive Polaroid shots can be found here.

This photo was taken with the TL, a very basic camera, and using a 135mm prime lens. The lens creates an interesting bokeh (background blur). It's not smooth, but the roughness works in this particular case, I think, adding a harshness to the environment in which our lone leaf finds itself.

The camera's battery has long since expired, so the light meter is not functioning. The beauty of a manual camera is that a battery is optional if you know basic exposure settings. I may get around to replacing it someday soon.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Happy Halloween

This is my third annual weird photo for Halloween. I played with an oil candle placed on the end of a long black wrought iron rod to maneuver it through the frame while making a long exposure. Yes, it's the end of October in northern Illinois and I still have morning glories. But you can see they're confused by the shorter days - they're blooming at night now.

This technique was used in my first annual weird Halloween photo back in 2005 (and be sure to check out the photo underneath the first entry). Last year's strange photo featured an unusual fogging of my film taken at a Native American sacred place in Wupatki National Monument in Arizona. I still haven't figured out what happened. Other than the series of photos taken near the ancient ruins, all other photos taken in the area turned out just fine.

Spooky.

Looking for more spooky photos? William Hundley has a unique way of staging photos - wrapping people in sheets and photographing them as they jump in the air. Makes for some weird looking images. Check them out.

Photograph © 2007 James Jordan

Queen Anne’s lace and fall poplars

The color of a stand of poplar trees rises above the gray sea of dried Queen Anne’s lace. Autumn is a conflict of emotions. The celebration of life. The anticipation of death. Joy and sorrow intermingled. Bittersweet.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Shell Wildlife Photographer of the Year winners released. The Shell Wildlife Photographer of the Year Competition aims to find the best wildlife pictures taken by photographers worldwide, and to inspire them to visionary and expressive interpretations of nature. Here’s a look at some of the winning photographs.

Katydid OK for herself

I found this katydid while strolling through my dad’s garden a few days after he passed away. She was pretty sluggish in the chilly morning air, but she’s a survivah. Missing one hind leg, lost to who knows what? A bird? A small animal? A kid with a thing for sadism? How many times did she nearly become somebody else's meal?

She made it this far, through the days of warmth and sunshine to this juncture between summer and winter. Her time is short, but she has accomplished what she set out to do, which was to live long enough to keep the species going.

We’ll hear from her kids next year.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Wild and lucky, that's me. I've had a photo selected as a favorite at the Moody Monday photo challenge for the second week in a row. Two weeks ago, I apparently captured the essence of the word "lucky." Last week, I scored with a depiction of "wild." We'll see if I can add "lazy" to my resume this week.

Making the turn

Autumn is a turn. A change of direction. The beginning of a new reality. And October seems to be the pivotal month. It begins with the gathering of the harvest and ends with a holiday focused on death. In between, nature makes its preparation for the slumber that will be winter.

Like the sunset sky that blazes with fire before the blackness of night sets in, the trees put on their own sunset display before releasing their leaves to die.

Yet hope is retained through it all. All around are faint promises of the spring to come on the other side of winter.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Autumn's Hope

A combination of a poem by a co-worker, the music of a friend and images by me. Enjoy.

Copyrights as per their respective creators.

Mourners

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Matthew 5:4

... we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope.

1 Thessalonians 4:13

Photograph © 2007 Jamers Jordan

Michigan leaf

After living in northern Illinois for the past 16 years, I had forgotten how beautiful autumns were in central Michigan. Nine days ago, on the morning my father died, my wife and I drove at sunrise to the hospital about a dozen miles from the small town where he had lived nearly all of his 71 years. The first sunlight of the newborn day played on rolling hills - the space between them creating beds in which blankets of fog lay tucked between patchwork quilts of gold and red. The scenery was achingly beautiful.

This leaf was captured on film subsequent to that beautiful Michigan autumn morning, its shape mimicking the outline of the state that I called home for more than three decades.

And, as I discovered over the course of the last several days, it's still home.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Legacy

My dad was a gardener, and he transformed much of the yard around his home into a welcoming habitat of growing things. He has passed, and the garden has begun its slumber for winter, but next spring, the garden plants will come forth again, renewing the memory of the person who planted them long ago.

There are things that will last long beyond the time that I spend on this planet. There are people that I will have met and enriched in some way or another. There are my children and the things that I was able to instill in them as they make their own way in this world. Then there is my work and whatever meaning those who view it may take from it. I'm scattering those things like seeds upon the earth in the hopes that those things will live long after me.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Where the road may lead

Over the past few days, I rediscovered the fact that there are two levels of life. There’s the level that we find ourselves in most often on a day to day basis – the job, school, bills – the constantly recurring stream of things we call responsibilities. Then there’s the really important stuff that you don’t often think about until a crisis strikes. Faith in God. Love for the family. The pain of loss and hope for the future.

Sure, I knew this about the important stuff, but it often gets drowned out in the mundane noise of the everyday. My wife and I have returned to Illinois following the passing of my father to take care of some of that mundane stuff. Then we will return to our family in Michigan to get down to some really important stuff.

I may be lax in posting over the next few days, but things like that happen when you’re taking care of really important stuff.

Thanks for the kind words of sympathy. I appreciate them very much.

Flowers for my father

This is a repeat photo from several months ago. I’m posting it again because my father was partial to mums. You may have noticed it’s been a few days since I last posted. My wife and I have been in Michigan to be with my mother and siblings as my father fought for his life in a hospital near his hometown. He developed septic shock following surgery a couple of weeks ago to remove a diseased kidney. It was a surprise to everyone since every sign following the kidney surgery was positive up until he began to feel ill earlier last week.

Septic shock occurs when the body fights a large scale infection, putting all its resources to the task of eliminating the intruder. Unfortunately, this comes at the expense of healthy tissue and organs, and they are either neglected by the circulatory system, attacked by an immune system gone wild or both.

The doctors and critical care unit did everything to give my Dad every fighting chance, but early this morning, he lost a four-day fight against time and himself as the shock destroyed his lungs' ability to keep his battered body going. Last evening, he was alert and responsive as my mother, my siblings and I gave him our love and encouraged him to keep fighting. We are a fortunate family to not have any outstanding issues between our parents or each other, which freed us to focus all our care and concern on my father throughout his illness. He turned 71 while in the hospital. He and my mother would have celebrated 50 years of marriage in a few days.

He will be cremated and we are considering spreading his ashes in many of the outdoor places he loved in Michigan. The same places he took his family while we were growing up, and the places we came to love as well. I still seek out natural places and capture their beauty with a camera from time to time, a legacy my father gave me.

And one of many, many things for which I am thankful.

That restless feeling

The shortening autumn days trigger a restlessness inside migratory birds. The pre-migratory restlessness (called zugenruhe) causes them to take flight for no apparent reason other than to simply … move. That is, until the temperature reaches a certain level and the winds turn southerly just enough for the birds to take action and channel that nervous energy into a purposeful migratory flight.

Funny thing is, I’ve felt that same restlessness from time to time, and felt the urge to just … move. Move from jobs, relationships, situations. Sometimes the winds blew just the right way and I acted on that restlessness. Other times, I stayed put. Sometimes it’s a tricky thing, deciding whether to go or stay.

There's a kind of a restless feeling and it catches you off guard
As we gaze off at the distance through the trees in my back yard
I can feel that restless yearning of those geese as off they roam
Then trade that for a warm bed and a place I can call home

Gordon Lightfoot, “Restless”

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Sunrise at Jelke's Creek

This has been the summer of staying close to home. I haven’t had the opportunity to travel much, except for a weekend or two in Racine or Door County, Wisconsin. So most of my photo explorations have taken place within a few miles of my home.

Jelke’s Creek is a waterway that meanders through the nearby village of Sleepy Hollow. Much of the land surrounding the creek is a nature preserve and bird sanctuary. I made my way out there one morning last weekend.

This photo is another blended shot of two exposures of the same scene, taken as the sun appeared over the treetops in the distance.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

For what it's worth: This is post number 800 at Points of Light, which I started in May of 2005 as an outlet for the pile of photos I was accumulating through my hobby. You are among more than 70,000 visitors who have stopped this way since then. Thanks for coming by.

Reflections on a small pond

Sky meets water meets earth at dawn.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Photo blogging: It’s a small world after all
Nikon has announced their winners in their Small World photography contest, comprised solely of photographs from powerful light microscopes (think WAY stronger than the ones you used in science class). Think Hollywood cgi is fantastic? Take a look at the craziness that is called reality.

Transcendence

Getting up early is not particularly easy for me, especially on these chilly fall mornings when it would be so much nicer to stay in my nice warm bed. But I've seldom been disappointed when I've made the effort to venture out into the early twilight world. I see things that 90 percent of the world doesn't see because they're still sleeping or working or just not paying attention - just like I do, 90 percent of the time.

I've said before that in any endeavor, if you do the things that 90 percent of those who have tried the same thing will not or cannot do, you'll find yourself in the top 10 percent.

And that's a pretty nice place to be.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

In the pink

October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month and the photo sharing site Flickr is more than doing its part. A photo group at Flickr called Passionately Pink for the Cure has been established, and for every photograph that is added to the group’s photo pool featuring the color pink, Flickr will donate one dollar (up to $50,000) to Susan G. Komen for the Cure.

As of this posting, the total number of photos had just surpassed 14,000. I've posted the above photo as well as this one to the pool.

Check it out. Great photos and a great cause. And if you happen to have a photo featuring pink, consider posting it to the pool.

Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Autumn reflection

Playing around with Photo Shop on this one. The original photo was that of a “push-up” formation at Sunset Crater National Monument near Flagstaff, Arizona. Pressure beneath the floor of an old volcano had pushed molten rocks dozens of feet upward, creating a pile of rocky debris. A lone poplar tree had found a way to survive on the barren outcropping.

The photo was copied, flipped, pasted beneath the original and rendered as a watery reflection, then an Orton effect was added.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Photo blogging

A fish-eye view of America. In 2002, underwater photographer Alex Kirkbride decided he wanted “an immense creative challenge.” He set out on a three-year journey across the United States, traveling over 100,000 miles to photograph underwater images from every state.

From flooded quarries and cranberry bogs to freezing Alaskan waters and Elvis's swimming pool, Alex took a unique array of photographs. The result is a collection of 150 imaginative photographs in the book American Waters, depicting the amazing variety and astonishing beauty of underwater worlds unseen by most people in their lifetime.

A description of the project by the photographer and some sample photos can be seen on Alex Kirkbride’s Web site.

Solitude

In my younger days, I worked as a graphic designer at a printing operation in mid-Michigan. One of our clients was the Iverson Snowshoe company of Shingleton, Michigan. One of just two snowshoe manufacturers in the U.S., their tag line was and still is, “Seek Wilderness.” We joked around the shop that the tagline was just a polite way of saying, “Get lost.” When one of us got on another’s nerves, the conversation usually ended with the rejoinder to go seek some wilderness.

The occasional encounter with solitude is not a bad idea. To throw off the electronic tethers and be free from their clinging grasp for a while. To search for things that are truly important in life. To recalibrate. To recharge.

Seek wilderness.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Fallen

Autumn: The annual reminder that time is catching up with us all.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Two worlds

Twice each day the two meet. Day and night cross paths at dusk, make their circuitous journeys and meet up again dawn. They tip their hats to each other as they walk their opposing paths, each content to remain in their own world, while we observe the changes as they pass.

Composite day/night photo. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

While driving to an early morning appointment a couple of weeks ago, I marveled at the low fast-moving clouds that passed overhead, playing games with the early morning sunlight. I debated whether I should stop along the way to get some pictures of the sky action and told myself I would if a suitable foreground presented itself.

The suitable foreground was the property of Mooseheart, a residential facility for needy children, built on a 1,000 acre farm near Aurora, in 1913 by the Loyal Order of Moose. I pulled off the road, and as early-morning commuters whizzed by, shot a number of exposures, planning to blend them later into a composite image.

This image shows a turbulent sky and the repose and steadfastness of the fences and buildings that were designed for protection, cultivation and growth. Quite fitting for an organization with a mission such as Mooseheart’s.

Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Points of view

I've done some experimenting with taking multiple exposures of a scene and combining them in PhotoShop to increase the amount of tonal values that can be captured in an image. Click the "Exposure Blending" tag below to see some examples.

So, I thought, why not try to do the same with focus? The picture above, of a front-end loader, used two exposures - one focused on the foreground stones and weeds, and one focused on the loader itself. The two images were combined in PhotoShop. There's an ominous quality about the image, kind of like the grim plant reaper coming upon an unsuspecting specimen of flora. The fogged windows of the loader in the chill morning air adds to the effect.

And just to see how far I can push this whole blending thing, my recent photo of the sunset at Nelson Point captured various exposures and focal points in a blended image.

It's nice to occasionally have that much time on my hands.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Connections

Once upon a time, every lighthouse had a human being connected to it, tending the light and scanning the waters for danger and distress. The lantern's point of light connected the light keeper to numerous unseen ships' crews, just as the ships themselves connected people from port to port.

The advent of radio, sonar and GPS have eliminated the need for many lights and their keepers, and the remaining beacons are now regulated by electronic systems, making them as dependable as the sunrise, our main connecting point of light.

And I am thankful for my connection to the Keeper of that light.

Photo: Blue Morning, the lighthouse at Manitowoc, Wisconsin. Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

The illustrious Mr. Hopper, still in bed on a crisp autumn morning

Here's someone who hates to see autumn roll around as much as anyone. Grasshoppers rarely survive the winter months, at least here in the upper midwest, so autumn must be a bummer for them. In fact, the chilly morning air on the day of this shot made them all quite lethargic and allowed me to get as close as my closeup lenses would allow.

Grasshoppers keep the species going by laying eggs in late summer that will endure through the winter months. A new brood will emerge in the coming spring.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Photo blogging

You are what you eat or do you eat what you are? 30 families. 24 countries. 600 meals. Photographer Peter Menzel photographed the weekly food intake of families around the world. Each photo depicts a family at home posing with a typical week’s worth of groceries (paid for by the photographer). Viewing the series of photos cannot help but raise questions about culture, politics and world health. Photographs from “Hungry Planet.”

Faster than a speeding bullet. Ultra-high-speed photography requires a powerful flash unit and equipment to set it off at just the right moment. A desire to see things blown to pieces and a very brave hand model doesn’t hurt either. Here are “frozen moment” shots of, well … shots … and the objects they obliterate.

Nelson Point sunset

This is the view of the sunset from Nelson Point in Peninsula State Park in Door County, Wisconsin - if you’re looking from about 12 inches off the ground. The beach is mostly rocky and barren, but the occasional plant grows and thrives in the protected spaces between the large rocks on the perimeter.

I’ve said before that Door County, the peninsula that separates Green Bay from Lake Michigan, is basically a large rock covered with a layer of dirt left over from the glacial history of the Great Lakes region. While there are a few sandy beaches, the place where and land meets water is primarily rocky; tall bluffs rise from the waters of Green Bay and Lake Michigan, a statement to the determination of the intrepid people who first inhabited this wild area.

Today, the artist enclaves, boutique shops, inns and restaurants are the latest in the evolution of the pioneer spirit of the people who make their homes here. They too have found their protected spaces within the cracks of the rocks.

Photo is a blend of two exposures to increase dynamic range. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Making the turn

Interesting that they say the leaves turn in autumn. Everything turns, actually. The days turn shorter and colder. The warmth of summer's lazy morning caresses are replaced by the abrupt brush of autumn's cold shoulder, without even so much as an, "Oh, excuse me."

Autumn is pretty rude that way. I presume she thinks she can get away with that type of behavior because she's such a looker. The charm of that colorful wardrobe and all. She's a bit bi-polar as well, all come-hither with gold and red charm one moment, hitting you with a frosty glare the next. Go figure.

A turn means a change of course. A new direction of travel. The autumn equinox has passed. We've all made the turn here in the upper Midwest.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Happy autumn!

Last spring, I did a blog giveaway of virtual flowers. Dozens of bloggers took me up on the offer and posted flowers on their blogs. It was fun to see the meme spread around the world. With the coming of the autumn equinox within the week, I've updated the meme to an autumn theme. Copy the code snippets below and post to your blog to get in on the "Autumn is ..." meme. Let's see how far we can spread this! By the way, for those of you south of the equator, the Spring flower meme is still available!

Copy and paste this code into your blog post (do not alter or edit):

<a href="http://pointsoflight.blogspot.com/2007/09/happy-autumn.html" title="Fall Meme"><img src="http://i161.photobucket.com/albums/t213/jlj1958/blogpost-1.jpg" alt="Fall Blog Post Photo" /></a>

Want something smaller for your sidebar? Copy and paste this HTML code into your blog template (Do not alter or edit the code):

<a href="http://pointsoflight.blogspot.com/2007/09/happy-autumn.html" title="Fall Meme"><img src="http://i161.photobucket.com/albums/t213/jlj1958/blogsidebar.jpg" alt="Fall Sidebar Photo" /></a>

Instruct your blog readers to click your “Autumn is …” picture to get their own HTML code and keep the virtual greeting going. Let’s see how far we can spread this "spirit of autumn" meme!

Fall photograph © 2007 James Jordan. HTML code may be freely copied and distributed.

A Queen Anne morning

Seen from the side of the road while traveling to an appointment one morning a couple of weeks ago. The summer mornings grow chillier. Autumn is in the air and nature is setting out its colorful bedclothes for a long winter slumber.

Planes of existence

I generally don’t shoot a picture to intentionally make a point or convey a message, other than “Hey, I saw something pretty or interesting and here it is.” Such was the case with this grouping of reeds on Defiance Lake in Moraine Hills State Park in McHenry, Illinois. Most of the time, it’s only after studying the finished photograph and pondering why I found it interesting that a meaning occurs to me.

A little internet digging into the symbolism of reeds revealed that in many cultures, reeds are considered an Axis Mundi, or world axis which can be used to join or travel between the planes of Heaven, earth, and Hades. I guess it makes sense, since reeds are deeply rooted in the mud, emerge through a watery layer and reach to the sky. In Christian symbolism, reeds represent baptism and the righteous ones thriving upon the rivers of God. Of course, in Christianity, the Axis Mundi is the cross on which Jesus died. It’s our connector from the mud of this life with the glory of heaven.

It was only after I had processed this photo for uploading that I noticed the reflection of clouds and sky on the surface of the water. The reflection of heaven on the surface of this life and the reeds reaching toward the higher plane. Hmmm, a self-portrait, perhaps?

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

A historic day ... Yar!

Today is a very momentous day in history. Here are just a few of the events that made an impact on human history on this day:

1881 President James Garfield died of a gunshot wound inflicted by a disappointed office seeker the previous July 2.

1934 Bruno Hauptmann was arrested for the Lindbergh baby kidnap-murder.

1955 President Juan Peron of Argentina was deposed and exiled after a military coup.

1957 The United States conducted its first underground nuclear test in the Nevada desert.

1958 I was born at an Air Force base hospital in Tachikawa, Japan.

A few years ago, September 19 was designated International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Shiver me timbers, me hearties! Speak like a scurvy knave to celebrate me special day today! Yar! Why, there even be an official song fer this day.

The above photo depicts a field of Queen Anne's lace as the sun descended toward the horizon. A multiple exposure shot was blended in PhotoShop to increase the dynamic range of the image.

No need to abandon hope, all ye who enter here.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

In the night country

Living northwest of Chicago is living life on the edge. I live near the edge of the metroplex. I can drive a few miles west and find myself in farmland. The edge advances farther into the farmlands each year, but it is still easily accessible.

I also live on the edge of the rolling hills and kames left by retreating glaciers a few thousand years ago during the last period of global warming. Rolling hills and valleys stretch for hundreds of miles north into Wisconsin. Just a few miles south begins the large expanse of flat prairie land.

This photo was taken a few miles northwest of my home where the county had taken steps to preserve the glacial heritage of the area. I blended two exposures - an underexposure of the sky and slight overexposure of the rolling hills - to capture what my eye saw as I stood where the edge of day meets the night.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

More than meets the film

The human eye is exponentially more adept at discerning a range of light than film or digital camera sensors. By themselves, camera can only capture a fraction of what the eye can detect. That's why the scene that looked absolutely wonderful to you when you pressed the shutter button comes out too light or too dark or too contrasty.

Photographers try to compensate for the camera's limitations by augmenting the amount of light through flash or through the use of filters or computer enhancement. I've posted some photos that are the result of taking several exposures of a scene at different settings and blending them in PhotoShop, a computer image editing program.

This weekend I had the opportunity to do a lot of shooting and experimenting with my exposure blending technique. The photo above is from Defiance Lake in Moraine Hills State Park in McHenry, Illinois. Three exposures were taken of the scene - one for the sky, one for the middleground water and one for the foreground grasses and reeds. The results is something very close to what I actually saw while standing on the lakeshore.

More to come this week.

Photo represents a range of about 8 stops of light. Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Self-portrait of the photographer on the beach with back to the camera

I shot this photo immediately after the one of the woman sitting on the boardwalk looking out at the waves and the lighthouse from two days ago. She had moved on before I could change lenses for a wider angle shot. So I decided to sub for her.

I set a cable release to hold the shutter open and then walked into position and stood as still as I could for the next 120 seconds. This allowed the waves and the clouds overhead to register as blurred moving objects while I stood frozen in time. I then walked back to the camera and closed the shutter. The exposure time was so long that my movements did not show on the film.

This photo says something about the world as it moves and breathes about me as I spend my few seconds of time standing on the face of this planet. It will continue long after I am gone from the scene. My movements barely register in the larger scheme of things - I don't recall world commerce stopping in its tracks because my car broke down in Michigan last week, for instance. But my movements matter to me and to those who are close to me. And I guess that's all that really matters.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Here, goosey, goosey, goosey ...

These guys weren't buying it. No dice. No takers.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Borders

A border is where a beginning and an ending meet. There are a number of borders in this photo. Night meets the last light of day. Clear sky meets the clouds of a passing storm. The last reaches of land meet the expanse of Lake Michigan at South Haven. Water touches sky.

Life is a series of border crossings. Peace to conflict. Comfort to need. Happiness to sorrow. And back again. You don't need a passport. You just need to be. The borders show up on their own, ready to be crossed, sometimes at breakneck speed. Some borders are crossed easily. Other border crossings exact a heavy toll.

It's when you quit walking that all hope is lost.

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength. Philippians 4:12-13

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Ponderings

We are drawn to the edges in this life. We sit at the shore, pondering the expanse of the ocean. We pause at the precipice and gaze into the far reaches of the canyon. We stand on the ground and peer into the vastness of space. We read of and admire of those who have left the edge and made a few furtive steps into those untamed reaches. Or shake our heads in dismay at the monumental display of folly.

Some never go beyond the edges, preferring to stay enclosed within the comfort of their boundaries. I find myself there more often than not. But every once in a while, the edge catches my attention. And I wander over to peer beyond the fence.

And dream.

Photo: Beach visitor, South Haven, Michigan. 1 second at f2.8, 400 ISO film, 135mmlens. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Ooh! My lucky day

Hope your weekend is going as well as mine.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Little peeper

This gray tree frog had made his home in the space between the door and door jamb of a shed behind my parents’ home in Michigan. My folks live in a small town near some wooded areas, so the frogs make themselves at home in the backyards across town. The lights from streetlamps and houses attract all manner of food for these creatures. Their musical trill can be heard all across town on warm summer evenings in concert with crickets and grasshoppers.

These frogs have the ability to change colors from gray to green to brown depending on their environment and mood. This fella was trying to match his black surroundings with nominal success.

Car update: The battery died, so a new one has been installed and I will be on my way to pick it up this weekend.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Face the sun

Last spring, my wife and a couple of my kids started a seedling project that involved sunflowers and morning glories. Now, several months later, we are experiencing the results. Morning glory vines and flowers cover a large portion of our deck railing and sunflowers grow tall along the back of our house, some reaching the roof.

One of the by-products of dozens of sunflowers is a large number of seeds. These are prized by the birds in our neighborhood, who have been feeding on them for a couple of weeks. Last weekend, the squirrels discovered this new source of food and have been wreaking havoc, destroying plants and leaving great piles of chaff on the deck in their effort to gather the seeds.

I stood guard one morning, chasing squirrels off as they approached the sunflowers. In the middle of my vigil, I noticed the exquisite morning light falling on a number of blooms. Several bumblebees flew from flower to flower, gathering nectar and trailing pollen dust. I decided it was a good time to grab my camera. A lot of patience and a lot of misses resulted in yesterday's photo of a bee making its final approach to a sunflower head. In between bees, I noticed this small flower through a gap between sunflower stalks, turning to face the morning sun.

So often we go about our daily routines without pausing to think about things that really matter. For the flower, it's only goal is to face the source of life.

The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else. Acts 17:24-25

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.

Meanwhile, back at the hive ...

I'm home from a trip to visit family in Michigan. My car apparently loved it so much there, it decided to stay. I'll hear from a mechanic tomorrow as to what it will take to get it to come back to Illinois. Until then, Budget Rent-a-Car is filling in.

This busy bee is cleared for landing and ready to do the nectar and pollen thing. More pics from the trip to come.

Click on picture to enlarge. Photograph © 2007 James Jordan.