Swirl

Sunday was my daughter's 20th birthday. As part of the celebration, Jackie requested that we have brunch at Love Lane Kitchen on the North Fork, about half an hour from our home on the South Fork. When we sat down, I ordered iced coffee right away as the day was heating up. Ironically, I had been at the same eatery the day before when out shooting in the area with two fellow photographers, and was looking forward to the iced coffee again, half caf/half decaf.

When the server set it down before us, Jackie picked up the tiny vessel of milk and started pouring. "That looks cool," she said as a ribbon of white swirled through the caramel, "Mom, take a picture!"

Not a problem. I had been snapping away as I stared at her and her boyfriend, who was visiting for the weekend---not quite comprehending how 20 years had passed and what an amazing person my Jackie had become.

To avoid the flash I set the ISO at 800, the F-stop at 5.6 and had no choice but to shoot at 1/8 second, very slow to hand-hold. But I held steady pressing the camera body to my forehead. In this case, the show shutter speed and shallow depth of field worked to advantage, emphasizing the motion inherent in this still life.

When Jackie saw the image, she said "my nails look good; good thing I just had a manicure."

Out of the Blue

If you want to capture that special image that pops up out of the blue, the most important thing to remember is to carry your camera with you all the time. If I hadn't stashed my camera bag in the back of my car, I would have missed the chance to capture this magnificent sight.

As dusk descended one evening, I was driving home down Lewis Road where acres upon acres of farmland have been preserved by the town of Southampton. There hanging over the field, a tremendous cloud was set on fire by the sun that had just dipped below the horizon.

As I neared, the cloud loomed larger and more brilliant. Pulling over to the side of the road, I reached behind me pleased to discover that I had indeed left my camera in the car. Knowing that the color would soon fade, I quickly changed lenses to my long one, 55-250mm, pointed it out the window and zoomed all the way in. I also underexposed by about one stop to intensify the cloud color thus throwing the treeline into silhouette.

With more time to gaze at this image now, I'm amazed at what we can see when we keep looking. I see the profile of a man with a full head of curly hair--looks a little like Harpo Marx!

Peconic River Day

Between the forks on the East End of Long Island where I have lived year-round for over twenty years, there's the town of Riverhead where the locals travel from all directions to do their daily business. Once a thriving downtown center, the village has struggled for decades to compete with the big chains that now crowd Route 58 nearby.
Behind Main Street, however, there's a lazy river that delights each time I pass through on my way to Home Depot, Target, or some such place.
So when I was invited to participate tomorrow in Peconic River Day at a gallery called Art Sites that yes, is on the way to Tanger Outlet Mall, I was thrilled.
A few weeks ago, I began by photographing people enjoying the boardwalk. Relaxing on benches, reading the paper or strolling by, I approached them slowly asking if they'd like to participate in this celebration of the river.
To my surprise, no one refused. Then I crossed the parking lot to discover some children frolicking intheir front yard facing the river. Under the care of their grandpas, I was a hesitant to ask if I could photograph the children.
Yet again, they were most willing to oblige. Since then, I visited the places I frequent when in town, a riverside bistro, the arts council, the bank, and the library--where my close friend, Elva, works---to capture the faces of those who live, work and play along the Peconic River.
Here's the result. To view, just click the forward arrow at your own pace.

Saving the Seagull

Two weeks ago, I took a trip with my puppy to Cupsogue Beach at the end of Westhampton Dunes--a seaside park preserved by the county wedged between the ocean and the bay--to check out the venue for my next photography class. Moseying along taking in the sights, Copper darted suddenly toward the water, howling like the hound he is.

Flapping one wing, a large bird lumbered into the water; it happened so fast that it took me a minute or so to realize it was a wounded seagull. Quickly, I tied the dog to a post and rushed back to the bird who was struggling in the water. Reaching for my camera, I took one photograph before he emerged from the foam dragging a broken wing.

What do I do? I thought panicking.

Fumbling for my cellphone, I made a few calls and found the number for the Wildlife Refuge Center of the Hamptons. While waiting for the volunteer to arrive from Hampton Bays, I shot 66 frames as my dog continued to howl.

At one point a wave knocked the gull onto his back. I approached slowly and was surprised when he allowed me to gingerly flip him back onto his feet. Making eye contact, he reminded me of my puppy when I rescued him a few weeks before.

After that, he stood nearby posing in thanks as we continued to wait. Here are 13 images presented as a slide show; just one couldn't possibly do him justice.

To view, just click the forward arrow at your own pace.

Iris

As May comes to a close, it seems fitting to end with the iris, the most spectacular of flowers. Around noon one day last week, I couldn't take my eyes off the phosphorescent petals just outside my front window that had just bloomed.
Envisioning all the pictures of irises I had already seen, I was reluctant to grab my camera. "But these purple and yellow ones are so special," I thought, "and they're mine." Within minutes I was leaning over the tall specimen in the middle of my front garden experimenting with the composition.
As I zoomed in, I decided to focus on the purple patterns at F5.6, letting the yellow petals fall into a blur. However, the lightness of that blur overpowered the darker elements I was trying to highlight. So I set my digital camera on manual and underexposed by a little more than one stop. Presto...without Photoshop, I had toned done the yellow and created a more dramatic image.
It's no wonder that of all the flowers that blossom on Earth, they named this one after the color of the eye.

Timeless

Photographing children is an art unto itself. Since they are in constant motion and so difficult to predict, the secret is to take lots and lots of pictures.
Last week an artist friend invited me to participate in a project celebrating life on the Peconic River at a festival at Art Sites, a gallery in Riverhead set for June 19th. The premise is to photograph people living, working and playing along the river. So on Saturday we set out to find out if indeed anyone was enjoying the balmy weather along the boardwalk constructed there a few years ago.
After shooting a few strollers, we noticed a family with some young children playing in a yard across the way. "You ask them," my friend said afraid that they might refuse.
To her surprise, they were more than happy to participate. Thirty minutes later, we walked away satisfied with the more than 50 images we had taken. Then, one of the little girls jumped on her rocking horse and asked me to take some more, just of her.
Rocking back and forth, she looked directly in the lens. The light danced in her eyes and on the grass behind her. Now comfortable with me and my camera, she rewarded me with this timeless image. It's my experience that the best usually does come last.

No Swimming?

Having slipped back into stillness last week with the study of light, here I am with more motion. Another walk in Sears Bellows County Park in Hampton Bays with my puppy, Copper, produced this telling image. Celebrating the season of renewal, it also validates the axiom "seek and ye shall find."

Upon entering the park, we proceeded on the path circling the lake that I have trailed time and again. Speeding ahead of me, Copper lead me to this spot where the water lapped against the shore more robustly than usual as result of the rain the day before.
It was as if the sign had been knocked over and submerged right there to attract my attention. Again I slowed my shutter to enhance the movement and mix of colors.
No swimming? In such a glorious place? Whoever heard of such a thing?

Leaf Light

This month I've been taking my photography class on local field trips to take advantage of the beauty that abounds this time of year. Last week we took a walk to a little park down the street from my house. Created just a few years ago, this spot reminds me of public spaces in Europe where every square foot is utilized to the max.

Featuring a walking track, a playground, an amphitheater, a fountain and several lush gardens, I chose this place because it provides a plethora of subject matter to photograph. So when I became obsessed with photographing just one leaf hanging from a pear blossom tree, I'm sure my students were a bit perplexed.
As the late afternoon light flickered through the leaf from behind, I pointed out the detail it revealed. A sight so simple yet so easy to miss unless one is really looking. Soon some were just as enthralled and started snapping away.

Getting Close

After all that rain last month, this May is one of the most beautiful I can recall. The air is filled with the sweetest scent and wherever I look buds are bursting with color. However the problem with spring is that it passes in the blink of an eye. So while I'm blinking, I try to capture what's most memorable.
Last fall I planted a row of 40 tulips bordering my front garden. Having forgotten about them during the long cold winter, I was excited when they poked through the soil even though just a dozen appeared. But a week after blossoming, their petals were already drooping. Within a few days, they were completely spent. While tulips are one of the most fetching flowers, they are also one of the most fleeting.
To preserve the sight, I cradled one in my hands, carried it to my back deck and laid it out on a bench. Then I focused up close filling the frame with color.
Sometimes the secret to a good image is simply getting close.

More Copper

Lately, motion seems to be my mantra and the focus of my recent photography class, also called Learning to See. Until now, I've concentrated on stillness in my work, perhaps, because I've been practicing yoga for years. By staying still, looking inward then outward, I've developed the patience to wait and watch.

Now I'm using those same skills to study motion. By choosing a spot, standing my ground and shifting my shutter speed, faster or slower, the effects are eye-opening. The one on top of Copper romping up a hill in a nearby park was taken at 1/30 second at F11. Notice how his coat blurs seamlessly into the background. When he raced down the hill toward me, however, I selected a much faster speed of 1/125 sec, to delineate his face.

While my puppy continues to fascinate me, I mustn't let this blog become all about him, so I'm also including a reflection found in a huge puddle that blocked our path during a walk yesterday in Sears Bellows Park. Interesting how copper is the predominant color.