Join me in the mesmerizing world of photography as we capture the ethereal beauty of a frosty January morning, where history meets nature’s artistry. Explore more on our blog.
Peave, Love, Joy
Time to Move On and Remember
Warm Wishes of Christmas
Three enchanted snowmen beckon you to read my full post.
Cozy Snowmen dance round the candle
My dear wife Pam is the heart of Christmas in our home. Over the years we have collected a treasure of ornaments and knick-knacks she crafts into displays around our home. Pam completed the project well in advance of our grandchild holiday visits, before card writing and gift wrapping.
My contribution is a photographic time capsule. Here is some of my artistic output from this work.
This grouping of five cozy snowmen (three males, two females) are warmly dressed in knit sweaters and stocking caps; the women with long skirts. The five hold hands in a ring, rising from a common platform. We place a cup and devotional candle in the center.
The tiny group evokes community, harmony, amity. I captured them with a Canon EOS 1Ds Mark III dslr, a fixed Canon EF 100mm f/2.8L macro lens mounted on a Manfrotto studio tripod and hydrostatic ball head. Fixed lenses provide the sharpest macros. The mounting allowed precise framing and use of the widest aperture and a low ISO. The light sources were sunlight from a large north facing bay window, a Canon Speedlite 600Ex-Rt and the candle. When used, the flash was angled in various ways toward the ceiling.
I start with a tight shot, maximum aperture. A single figure is in clear focus, the remaining gradually lost in the bokeh. The flash was used. I can almost see then circling around the candle in a winter wind.
Here the candle is lighted, aperture narrow to f8 using only the candle and ambient light (no flash). The group is visible within surrounding figures. I backed away and the viewpoint is higher.
The candle light enhances the perception of community.
Viewpoint is closer, still only the candle and ambient light. Aperture widened to 3.5. I must remove the hair in lightroom.
I backed off, aperture at the max with only the candle and ambient light. The figures are placed in a tableau with other snowmen and a structure, a birdhouse.
For this overview I swapped in a Canon 24mm f/1.4L II USM with a flash, aperture f2.2.
Irish Christmas Spirit
A previous post, “Christmas Tableau”, provides some context. The photographs from that set were accepted by Getty for stock images. Click the link to take a look: “Cozy Snowmen” on Getty Stock.
This is part of my project to document our Christmas memories through photography. Here we explore the Irish and Ireland themes of our decorated Christmas Tree.
Where would we be without Saint Patrick? He was a force, to be sure. A favorite story, is the landing of his return to the island 432 AD. The tides on the eastern coast of the Irish Sea can be strong. His plan was to sail up to coast further north than what we call today Strangford Lough. On passing this inlet the boat was swept into the lough tidal narrows. Circumstances called for a landing, rather than wait for the tide. Patrick came ashore where the Slaney River enter the lough and “quickly converted” the local chieftan, Dichu, who provided a barn for holding services. The name of the town “Saul” in Irish is Sabhall Phádraig, translated as “Patrick’s Barn.”
In this posting I’ll go lighter on descriptions of technique. Leave it to say I held to the Canon fixed lens EF 50mm f1.2L USM throughout. Some, like the photograph of Saint Patrick, used a tripod. Others, like the latter two of the following Irish Themed Cross set were handheld. Generally a flash was used to supplement ambient sunlight from a large north-facing bay window.
Here the “celtic” cross is converted to an Irish theme through a substitution of a shamrock with golden decoration inspired by pagan neolithic petroglyphs for the nimbus (circle) intersecting the central intersection of arms and stem.
For the first three I played with aperture, taking advantage of the stability of a tripod. The final two of the set are handheld.
Note the fanciful leprechaun snowman with pot o’ gold, on the left.
Blown glass Irish dancers.
“Travel memories”
Lets’s finish up with a resin cast Santa Claus in hiking garb. Hiking is a favorite activity of ours. Featuring a stout staff and Aran Island sweater.
Angels I Have Known
This is part of my project to document our Christmas memories through photography. Here we explore the themes angels of the Christmas Story and in our lives.
A previous posts “Ireland on the Mind at Christmas” provides context.
The angels of our Christmas tree and home remind us of the Jesus birth stories of scripture and the force of love in our own lives.
What comes to mind with the sudden appearance of Gabriel to Mary and that astounding message? Unlike the attempt of Jonah to avoid his calling, the subtext to Mary’s ready acceptance is the risks faced by an affianced woman who becomes pregnant. The book of Deuteronomy (Chapter 22 verses 13 – 21) calls for stoning a woman who presents herself for marriage as a virgin, when she is not.
When learning of Mary’s pregnancy, Joseph’s reaction, as a follower of Mosaic Law, was to divorce her quietly to avoid exposing her to shame. It was a visit from an angel, in a dream, that convinced Joseph to accept Mary (Matthew Chapter 2, verses 18 – 24).
An angel visited shepherds, announcing “today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is the Messiah and Lord.” Suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God.” Luke Chapter 2, verses 8 – 13.
Was it an angel who warned the Magi, in a dream, not to return to King Herod with news of Jesus (Matthew Chapter 2 Verse 12)? Scriptures clearly state (Matthew Chapter 2 verse 13) “the angle of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, ‘Rise, take the child and his mother, flee to Egypt.”
People can be angelic in expressing love for others through action. I am thinking of a movie Pam and I viewed last evening, “The Theory of Everything.” Jane Wilde, in her love for Stephen Hawking, stays with him when, shortly after their romance began, he was diagnosed with ALS. The prognosis was death in two years. In all likelihood, Jane gave Stephen his life and work through loving him. He is alive and working today at 75.
The love of our parents is more common, no less precious.
A note on the photographs, I used a Canon EOS-1Ds Mark III dslr with Canon lens EF 50 mm f/1.2L, Canon Speedlite 600Ex-Rt, Manfrotto studio tripod and hydrostatic ball head. Some of the photographs were hand held. When the flash was used, it supplemented ambient light from a large north facing bay window.
An 84-degree October walk up Cascadilla Gorge—quiet paths, bluestone porches, fresh paint on the bridge—waiting for the footbridge to catch the last, warm evening sunlight.
Every fall I make a point of walking Cascadilla Gorge at least once. On an 84-degree October 9 afternoon, Pam was tied up with chores, so I parked downtown and stopped to see the grandchildren. They were with their mom. Two were “too tired” after school to do anything. The youngest, at the age of four, was not yet in school and he floated the idea of the skateboard park; for me, that wasn’t in the cards. So I set off on foot up Court Street, past the residence of Buddhist monks at the gorge entrance.
Cascadilla Gorge is part of Cornell Botanic Gardens (formerly the Plantations), the university unit that stewards natural areas and gardens across campus. Foot traffic was light. A sign explained why: the lower trail was closed at Stewart Avenue, where the bridge spans the ravine. I crossed to the north side by the Christian Science church and wound up Cascadilla Park Road to the rim trail that climbs East Hill toward campus.
Homes line this stretch, porches facing the gorge where the constant music of creek and falls carries up. Not feeling ambitious, I made a few phone snapshots. Here the path squeezes past a porch built of local “bluestone,” a feldspathic sandstone native to the region—around town it’s sometimes called “Llenroc,” Cornell in reverse.
That pot you see in the previous photo gets a closer look here, with more of the same weathered bluestone.
The drop to the gorge floor is steep, sheer in places. The barrier fence looks stout in some sections and thins to almost nothing in others. A few years ago, a recent Cornell graduate walking home late along this path fell to his death. I continued to the fork for the Ithaca City Cemetery, climbed to Stewart Avenue, turned right to cross the Cascadilla bridge, then right again onto the Gorge Rim Trail back toward town. At the bridge I noticed part of the closure work: fresh paint on the bridge and on the suicide-prevention netting beneath. On September 24—just fifteen days earlier—a Cornell senior had jumped; the net caught him, and the fire department brought him to safety.
From the concrete barrier in that photo you can peer into the gorge: a beautiful view, the steady voice of water rising from below. I try to leave the darker stories where they belong—at least until the sight of fresh paint pulls them back to mind.
I took the following photograph in 2005, the September before my previous post, “Autumn Stroll in Sapsucker Woods” with the Kodak DSC pro slr-c, an ND filter, 50 mm lens and a tripod. It was a planned session, I work waterproof boots and was able to stand in the creek after a series of rain-free days. At this time of the year the gorge opens to the setting sun. I waited, taking a series of photographs for the perfect amount of light on the footbridge. The feature photograph (the header to this posting) is a detail from a shot with the bridge more fully lit.
The header image for this post comes from a planned session in September 2005, just before the photograph of my “Autumn Stroll in Sapsucker Woods” post. I used a Kodak DCS Pro SLR/c with an ND filter, a 50 mm lens, and a tripod. After several rain-free days I wore waterproof boots and stood mid-creek. In autumn the gorge opens to the setting sun; I waited and shot a sequence until the light laid perfectly across the footbridge. The banner image is a detail from a frame where the bridge is more fully lit.
We have a framed print of that photograph at home. I mounted it as a gift to Pam on our first Valentine’s Day.
If you’ve walked Cascadilla Gorge in autumn, I’d love to hear your favorite vantage points—porches along the rim, the lower stone steps, or the footbridge at golden hour. Do you know any stories about Llenroc bluestone on these houses, or remember the Stewart Avenue Bridge before its safety upgrades? Photographers: what helps you balance deep shade and bright water from the designated trails? Share a tip or a memory in the comments.
2021
Pam requested photographs of hosta flower stalks with blooms and developing buds. I setup the Manfrotto tripod, the Canon dslr mounted with an Canon EF 70-300mm f/4.5-5.6L lens at ISO 1600 and these are the results.
Native to northeastern Asia, In 1812 the genera Hosta was named for the European botanist Nicholas Thomas Host. Also called plantain lily for the habit of the herbaceous stalks to grow radially from a center.
The name “Hydrangea is derived from Greek and means ‘water vessel’ (hydria), in reference to the shape of its seed capsules. The earlier name, Hortensia, is a Latinised version of the French given name Hortense, honoring French astronomer and mathematician Nicole-Reine Hortense Lepaute.” _wikipedia
The common name “Marigold” refers to the Virgin Mary.
Begonias come in so many shapes and colors.
Garden Gnomes, Bird Bath and Sculpture
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 