Close up, the water drops on the heliotropic Carobrotus edulis flowers (a/k/a ice plants) looked ethereal, ephemeral, and pretty in pink.
Photographed with my 200mm f/4 macro lens, positioned on the tripod using the 200mm’s built-in tripod collar, a 36mm extension tube, and the Nikon 6T close-up filter at ISO 100, 1/8 of a second, and f/40 for maximum depth-of-field.
Related story: Water Drop Photograph Techniques.
It had rained lightly overnight. But the water drops were quickly disappearing in the morning sun. I went out into my garden with my camera bag and tripod while Phyllis got the kids to school.
There was also a soft breeze. The wind and sun felt caressing, but the wind was enough to make extreme macro photographs a problem, because even small motions are magnified when you are up close.
I spotted these water drops on a spider web attached to the stems of some heliotropic ice plants (Carobrotus edulis). The spider web acted to keep the water drops pretty much still. You can see some of the heliotropic (meaning they open when it is sunny, and close at night) flowers of the plant reflected in the water drops.
The shape of the stems with the web and drops reminds me of a harp, hence my title for the photo. But I also see this as some kind of minature fiber construction.
Photographed on tripod with my Nikon 200mm f/4 macro lens at f/36, using a shutter speed of 1/6 of a second at ISO 100.
It had rained overnight, but the early morning showed sun and clouds with only a hint of wind.
Phyllis got the kids to school, and I stripped to my shorts and tank top, no shoes, to photograph the water drops.
These drops on a peony leaf showed the sky and clouds in their reflections. Little worlds, indeed.
I photographed the drops of the sky using my Nikon 200mm f/4 macro lens, a 36mm extension tube, and the Nikon 6T close-up filter. (Nikon has unfortunately discontinued manufacturing the 6T.) I stopped the lens down to f/36, and used manual mode to hold the shutter open for about 1/13 of a second.
Wet (from all the rain drops) and happy, I took myself and photo gear inside for a cup of coffee.
The odd thing about the water drops in my garden on Saturday morning was the way the drops seemed to line up in a row. Drops in a row? Ducks in a row? The drops shown above are on a purple cyclamen flower, those below on the leaf of a brand-new tulip.
Related links: Water Drops on Photoblog2; my Water Drops set on Flickr.
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I really like this close-up of a wet camellia, and I realized that I hadn’t blogged it yet. Here’s a broader view of this camellia blossom.
Yesterday in the bright sunshine I photographed this gazania and its water drops. There’s something about a wet and well-lit flower that is undeniably appealing.
In mid January, the camellia trees in front of our house burst forth in a riotous display of color. The middle, pink tree is particularly interesting. As the blooms mature, the center of each flower turns white.
There’s magic in the moment, and joy in the seeing! May your holiday be one of peace, pleasure, serenity, and meditation! This is a world of grim depths as well as exalted heights, but for a while we can forget the terror and despair and focus on the awe and wonder in the knowledge that the days will grow longer and a new year is coming soon. This is a world of finite limits, but with infinite possibilities.
I took this photograph of a hibiscus flower in my garden on a rainy day in December using my macro flash to stop the motion of the flower in the wind. Thus we stop time at this time of year, and spend a little quiet time with our families.
How nice to have a beautiful, clear, and sunny day after a day of winter rain. The morning sun in this image sparkles on rain drops that decorate the Hardenbergia (”Happy Wanderer”) that clings to the arch over my garden gate.
Inside the fire was burning, the Christmas tree was lit, and the family was happily and merrily manufacturing mayhem.
I stepped outside to taste the weather and for a moment of quiet. The rain had stopped and the world was very still and foggy. I noticed that the succulent on our front porch was plastered with jewel-like water drops, and the drops reflected our outdoor Christmas lights (or, as they call them in England, Fairy lights).
Exposing using the available light provided by the reflections of these small and distant colored bulbs, and whatever ambient light they provided, was on the tricky side. It was hard to see anything, either on the camera, the macro rig, or the composition. Forget about visually checking depth-of-field! (You can view this image’s EXIF data here.)
These were long time exposures. Fortunately, everything did stay very still. There was not a breath of wind.
It was hard for me to keep my concentration hearing the ruckus inside.
Nicky came out, and held down the remote shutter release for me on a couple of the exposures in the series, including this one. He was proud to help, and it was fun “keeping still” for the exposure with him.
And, yes, I am pleased with how this image came out.
Here are water drops caught in a spider web poised over a succulent flower. The flower is refracted and reflected in the drop hovering right over the flower. That is surely beauty. Is the beast the hairy thing caught in the drop in the lower-left middle? Or is it yours truly caught within many of the drops? (You may need to check it out in a larger size to see Harold in the water drops!)
I look for simplicity or complexity in my compositions because half measures are for wusses. Here’s another simple drop.
Phyllis was kind enough to take the kids to school this morning. I spent my free time in the garden photographing water drops in the morning sun using my Kirk Low Pod and a new toy, a Nikon PC Micro-Nikkor 85mm f/2.8 lens. This is an 85mm macro lens, roughly 127mm in 35mm terms. The “PC” isn’t short for “politically correct”; it stands for “perspective correction.”
In a way, this lens is back to the future for my thoroughly modern digital SLR. The Nikon PC Micro-Nikkor 85mm f/2.8 provides some tilts and swings, like an old-fashioned view camera. But there’s no automation. Auto-focus doesn’t work. The light meter doesn’t work. This is a manual exposure affair (instant feedback via the LCD makes manual exposure a snap).
The lens doesn’t even stop itself down automatically. You set the f/stop manually, then press a lever to view and focus through the lens wide open (so you can see what you are doing). When you are ready to make an exposure, you press the little lever again first to stop the lens down.
The point of the lens are the tilts and swings, which (among other things) help with the depth-of-field problem of extreme close-ups. In addition, the lens is designed for maximum depth-of-field with an f/45 smallest aperture and an iris with more than usual blades, leading to an attractive bokeh on out-of-focus items at small apertures.
Using this lens does remind of those good old view camera days.
These images of water drops on our alstroemerias (Peruvian Lilies) captured with the rig I’ve described and and a 36mm extension tube. Each exposure approximately 0.4 of a second with the aperture set to f/45 for an effective aperture including the tilt and extension tube of about f/60.
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Life goes on. Julian is still in intensive care, doing as well as we could hope in the circumstances. Water drop on a terra cotta pot (in answer to a query on Flickr, the star is “real”). In beauty lies salvation. In photography is therapy.
These water drops on a spider’s web reflect the toad lilies (strange plants of the genus Tricyrtis) that bloom in the shade part of our garden this time of year.
