Ever wonder what web sites I visit on a regular basis? I've added a new page to ephemerallife to place all of my favorite web destinations in one place.
Look at the menu on the left side and you will see the page listed among the others.
links
Just like you, I have a number of websites that I return to over and over again. These are sites that inspire me, inform me or just plain entertain me. When I think that you visit my site regularly, I also think that you might find some of my favorite web destinations interesting as well.
Photography and photography techniques
Fellow Photographers
Photo Blogs
Photographic Communities
Digital Photography School (DPS)
Web Resources
flight time
During one of my recent morning walks over at the dam, I watched this model plane flying overhead. There was a model plane field nearby so, I knew where it came from and headed over to have a look.
By the time that I got there, I could see that two men were prepping the plane for a second flight. Shooting into the morning sun with the ground fog was really a lot of fun.
It seemed as though the man in the red shirt was being shown the ropes while the older man went through the paces.
When I left them, the plane was airborne again, on a morning flight to nowhere. I left the two men in the fog to enjoy their fun in the fog and headed back to my walk on the meadow. It was a nice diversion to see them but, I really liked the peace and quiet much better.
the great herds of our ancestors
Listen my son and I will tell you of the great herds of our ancestors, in the time before the yellow haired gods ruled our lands. Your great great great grandfather walked the lands of the north and lived the ways of our elders. In those days, to prove himself a man, a young warrior needed to walk the great herds. You have seen the long necked birds from the cold north called geese. They are common even today but, in the days of our fathers, the Canada Goose roamed the plains in herds of enormous size. As they moved from one grazing ground to another, their shadows darkened the ground from sunrise to sunset without break.
It was one of these herds that the young warrior must walk within. Approaching the geese from downwind, the boy would walk quietly among the big birds looking for the largest of them all. Once found, the warrior must pluck a single feather from the bird's tail feathers. Silence and patience were the key to the Young man's success. If the birds became startled, they would begin to run over the grasses in a huge stampede. The mass of startled and angry birds would run for hours, until exhaustion took them and forced them to collapse. All the while, they would trample anything in their path, including the warrior.
The stampedes of Time have trampled the great herds and they are no more. Also gone are most of the traditions so revered by our ancestors. In my dreams, the herds still rome and I am a young warrior on the verge of becoming a man. I walk the herds in my dreams… feather in my hand.
ted’s dry run
When I woke up this morning, the weather was nasty. The temperature had already reached 80 degrees and the rain had filled the air with with moisture. I took a deep breath and it felt like I was drinking water from a glass. After letting the cat out, I headed to the kitchen to make some coffee and put together some toast. This was part of my morning routine and my body could go through the motion on its own, while my brain wandered. The hot and humid weather reminded me of another time right after I got home from the war.
The summer of 1947 was a terribly hot summer and everyday that it would rain, the humidity would come out fighting just like it had this morning. If I remember right, it was a Saturday morning and I had nothing planned. I decided to head on down to the pond with my fishing pole. I didn't really care if I caught anything, the idea was to sit on the edge of the pond and dangle my feet in the cool water while I enjoyed the shade. So, I got my pole and tackle together and headed for the watering spot out near Stanton's Farm Road.
It wasn't long before I was settled in, watching my bobber floating on the still water. Soon, I caught sight of a turtle on a log. From where I sat, he looked like he was stuck in mid air. His feet were flying but he wasn't going anywhere. He looked likable enough, so I offered to lend him a hand.
"Mr. Turtle, can I offer you a hand into the water?" To my complete surprise, the turtle answered me back!
"No thank you" said the turtle, "that will not be necessary." Holy cow, a talking turtle!
"You can talk!"
"Yes, I can speak he said" between gulps of air. All the time, his legs never stopped. They just spun and spun like a whirligig. "It is a curse."
"A curse? It seems like a blessing to me, Mr. Turtle." By now, I had put my pole down, I wasn't interested in fishing anymore. "Why would it be a curse?"
"Well, now that I can speak, my big mouth keeps getting me into the worst of trouble. I just bet the catfish that I could cross the pond to the other side."
That threw me for a loop. Of course he could cross the pond, he was a turtle after all.
"Mr. turtle, that seems like a sucker's bet to me, of course you can cross the pond, you are a turtle."
"Oh no" said the turtle. "And call me Ted"
"Ok Ted, it is. And what seems to be the problem, you will surely win that bet."
Ted just turned his head and looked at me with a worried expression. "I can't swim and the catfish knows it!" His legs were still turning as fast as he could make them go. "But I got a plan!"
With that, Ted rocked his way off the log and into the water. I gasped, he could drown! But it wasn't to be. Ted's legs were spinning so fast that as he hit the glassy water, he shot across the surface like a skipping stone. Ted skipped eleventy seven times, enough to land him into the cat tails on the opposite side of the pond. I had never seen anything like it in my entire life!
I stood up to see if I could see Ted on the other side but, I couldn't spot anything other than some movement in the tall plants. I was a little disappointed. I wanted to congratulate Ted on winning the bet.
Unfortunately, I never saw Ted again. I just suppose that is the way it should be. Still, I give a chuckle when I think about Ted flying across the pond. Sometimes, I just bust out laughing to myself. When that happens, my wife looks at me like I have lost my mind. She doesn't know about Ted and his bouncing flight across the pond. She has no idea that what really makes me bust out loud is that, though I never found Ted again, I did see the look on the catfish's face when Ted skipped over his head and won the bet.
meet walter doogan
Uh oh, after some research, I think that "Walter" is a female stag beetle.
Walter Doogan was a different kind of Beetle to be sure. He liked classical music, knit caps and sandals, while the rest of the bugs his age were listening to rock and roll and dressing like clones of each other. His mother called him eccentric but the rest of the world just called him odd.
His friends liked the way he marched to his own drum and were able to look deeper until they saw the generous and loyal friend that he was. To them, he was brave and unique in his willingness to be his own bug and ignore current trends. While he was being teased by others for not conforming to the current norms, his close knit group of friends admired the audacity of his difference.
Even so, his friends did think his penchant for climbing was a little strange, even for him. Walter would climb anything that was tall and towered into the air. He seemed to see the sky scraping heights as a sort of personal challenge. His conversation would revolve around his latest target for days ahead of a big climb. The building excitement always insured that Walter had an audience to cheer him on. The actual climb seemed to last forever as Walter raised one leg at a time and pulled himself up the vertical surface. moving onward at a slow and deliberate pace.
You have to wonder what drives Walter upwards? What inner fire motivates him in his quest to conquer the heights? We may never know the answer. We can guess that this is yet another part of the beauty that makes Walter different.
dancing in the streets
Yesterday was the Urbana Street Fair and for the fourth year in a row, my wife and her friends danced on the court house steps. I thought you might want to see some of the fun that you might have missed if you were not there.
In my humble opinion the girls get better and the crowd gets bigger every year. During the festival season, they manage to dance a dozen or so shows. Some events are fairs, some are galleries and some are for charity events. All are fun.
Bonus points for those who can figure out which of the camera shy girls is mine.
the threshing meal
Earlier this week, I promised to share some images of the threshing meal at Carriage Hill Farm. Traditionally, the hosting farm would be responsible for preparing and serving a midday meal for the threshing workers that were working hard in the fields. The ladies of the farm would begin preparing the meal days in advance and worked hard to impress their guests.
Fifteen minutes before the meal was to be served, the bell was rung to give the men time to come in and wash up before they ate.
The first order of business was to get something to drink. They had plenty to choose from:
Ice Water
Lemonade
Raspberry Shrub
Iced Tea
Coffee
After grabbing a glass of their chosen beverage, the workers migrated to the table and found a seat.
What was served at this threshing meal?
Fried Chicken
Green Beans with Smoked Bacon
Coleslaw
Bread
Cucumbers and Onions in Vinegar Water
Apple Pie
Berry Cobbler with Whipped Cream
Watermelon
Not a bad meal at all. The men were served under the giant catawba tree in the back yard. With the good food and shade combination, they got to relax, cool down and recharge before they went back to work.
While the field workers filled up, the farm staff waited patiently for their turn at the dinner tables. These are the folks that had prepared and served the huge meal to the hands.
my morning walk
I have a friend named Deb that takes regular morning walks with her dog, Ash. Sometimes she shares a bird sighting, a favorite bloom or some kind of wildlife story. While I was walking by the lake and meadow this morning, I thought that this was a Deb kind of morning. The sunrise was spectacular and I hope this panoramic image gives you some sense of the color in the clouds as the sun rose.
This gorgeous mystery bird greeted me with it's call. I love the vivid yellow and red on the tips of its tail and wings. If you know what kind of bird this is, let me know. (I have been informed by some very kind and reliable sources that our mystery bird is a Cedar Waxwing).
I noticed this bird house overstuffed with large feathers. Did some kind of over achieving bird try to stuff her nest with big feathers? Was this some sign of domestic dispute? Surely these feathers must be large for the bird that fits inside such a small house? Usually I see small swallows living in these homes.
My last bit of interest was being scared silly by a huge deer as it leaped out of the trees and crossed my path, white tail flashing. I was so surprised, that I didn't have any sense to bring my camera up and take a photo. Next time I will try to be a little more prepared.
And that my friends, was my morning walk.
event horizon
This is one of those images that surprised me when I saw it through my lens. My original idea when taking this photo was to see what the underside of Queen Anne's Lace looked like. I got my trusty long lens (thank you again Uncle Eddy) out of the kit bag and laid on the ground. What I found was that the edge of the flower blooms was really interesting and the underside wasn't nearly as impressive as I had imagined. So, I took the shot of both just in case, but took a few extra shots of the edge of the flower to be sure that I got it right.
Back at my desk, I performed some basic tone and contrast adjustments and converted the image to black and white in Aperture. I then cropped to 1×3 (one of my favorite crops) and called the image finished.
| Exposure | 0.002 sec (1/500) |
|---|---|
| Aperture | f/5.6 |
| Focal Length | 280 mm |
| ISO Speed | 200 |
Here is a picture of the entire bloom, just in case you forgot what Queen Anne's Lace looked like.
Have a great day folks.
tim mcmurdo 