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Softer than shadow and quicker than flies
Oct. 2nd, 2012 02:02 pm
Currently at Toronto Pearson: 19. Looking to break 20 for the first time since Sept. 25. Might be 20 degrees colder at the cottage for Thanksgiving this year than last. Might see some snowflakes before I close it up the following Saturday.
A few days ago I noticed a mosquito poking at an aster at the side of the cottage. I'd read that mosquitos eat nectar, but I'd never actually seen it (which is kind of amazing, given how many mosquitos I've seen), so this was pretty interesting.
I had no idea what was actually going on there--
--until the mosquito suddenly jumped back like something had bitten it:
After it flew away, I went to inspect the flower, and saw the telltale "V" sticking up between the petals--although the spider quickly clambered around on top again:
Every now and then I feel like all I've got left to do around the cottage is take the same pictures over and over again, but then something reminds me that that's just because I'm not looking closely enough.
(Then there are the sunrises and sunsets and night skies, which have become a serious problem for me. I've got hundreds if not thousands of pictures of those from the last couple of months, all the same but all different--which of course makes me think of how different the digital world is from the film one. (I have been meaning to say something about how Annie Dillard--of course--doesn't think very highly of walking around with a camera, but for me it's a huge advantage of digital photography that it frees you significantly from technical concerns so that you can still look at things and not just take pictures of them. (And I'm also endlessly interested in how taking pictures makes me look at things not just differently but more.) You can become absorbed in technique with digital photography--many people do, obviously--and I really, really want to avoid that, but you're not compelled to be as much as with film, where you're going to waste materials if you don't set up the shot just right.) I wish I could take a picture of the sunrise every day all year long to mark its march along the far shore from north to south and back again.)
A few days ago I noticed a mosquito poking at an aster at the side of the cottage. I'd read that mosquitos eat nectar, but I'd never actually seen it (which is kind of amazing, given how many mosquitos I've seen), so this was pretty interesting.
I had no idea what was actually going on there--
--until the mosquito suddenly jumped back like something had bitten it:
After it flew away, I went to inspect the flower, and saw the telltale "V" sticking up between the petals--although the spider quickly clambered around on top again:
Every now and then I feel like all I've got left to do around the cottage is take the same pictures over and over again, but then something reminds me that that's just because I'm not looking closely enough.
(Then there are the sunrises and sunsets and night skies, which have become a serious problem for me. I've got hundreds if not thousands of pictures of those from the last couple of months, all the same but all different--which of course makes me think of how different the digital world is from the film one. (I have been meaning to say something about how Annie Dillard--of course--doesn't think very highly of walking around with a camera, but for me it's a huge advantage of digital photography that it frees you significantly from technical concerns so that you can still look at things and not just take pictures of them. (And I'm also endlessly interested in how taking pictures makes me look at things not just differently but more.) You can become absorbed in technique with digital photography--many people do, obviously--and I really, really want to avoid that, but you're not compelled to be as much as with film, where you're going to waste materials if you don't set up the shot just right.) I wish I could take a picture of the sunrise every day all year long to mark its march along the far shore from north to south and back again.)
