lens, with occasional kayak

of course it's blurry. it's a flying bird.

one frog

we've been taking the kayaks over to a fat part of the east branch delaware river the last few weekends. the water is slow and wide and shallow, full of green waving plants that tickle the bottoms of the kayaks. overhead there are hawks, herons, red winged blackbirds, eagles and the occasional osprey. underwater are pickerel and not much else. roaming around at the edges are the best of animals. frogs and turtles. 

because the sweetie trusts me more than he should, given my track record, he has encouraged me to bring along the pretty new birthday camera. it lives in a very nice waterproof bag that clips onto the edge of my kayak and it is safe as long as it stays there, sealed up and still. but that is not the point of a camera.

two frogs

this is where the struggle begins. taking the camera partway out of the bag, slipping the neckstrap over my floppy-hatted head, getting the camera the rest of the way out of the bag, removing the lens cap without dropping it into the water (i've only dropped it once) and remembering to turn the thing on takes up enough seconds that most of what i want to take pictures of has already flown, hopped or swished on past by the time i get the focuser focused.

that's just fine, though. there's enough wildness out there that something else always makes its way in front of the lens if i just sit there a minute or two. and that is what i do, mostly. paddle along a while, then sit back and float with a camera pointed at nothing in particular. it is the sort of kayaking i like. it is the sort of photography i like, too.

one more frog

the sweetie fixes himself in some spot he determines is attractive to fish and he casts and reels in, casts and reels in. he will do this for hours if left to his own devices. and while he sits quietly i paddle around, eyes peeled, looking for wildness and trying to make it stand still.

forget-me-nots

what you need to know is that i am not at all skilled at wildlife photography. i cannot believe the animals i see don't want to sit themselves still and pose for me. i take hundreds of photos each time we go out, insisting that somewhere in all that volume will be a perfect photo of a dragonfly resting on a twig. i have, at last count, close to fifty photos of dragonflies. none are in focus.

the sky in the camera

but i do not care. i press on. i am the sort of person who wants to touch and hold and cuddle up on all the animals i see and this is my compromise, keeping them in this fashion, slightly out of focus, not quite properly composed, unevenly lit.

the sky looking like it does in real life 

i am, after all, taking photos from a moving craft. from a moving craft powered by mostly me and a little bit the most sluggish current in the entire catskills. i do what i can but when the paddle is lying still across the kayak and the camera is squished up to my eye, the water makes its own decisions, floats me by swamp irises just starting to bloom, by masses of forget-me-nots standing knee deep in still water. i snap and snap and snap pictures until the sweetie says how many pictures of forget-me-nots does one person need? all of them, i think.

the sweetie suggests i try the polarizing lens. i am supposed to turn it while looking at the sky to grab those clouds and make them look real, to bring out their ominous glory. it is one more thing to add to the whole routine that starts with balancing the paddle across the kayak and ends with a blurry photo. i cannot convince the sky and the land to work together yet, but i like parts of every picture.