Monday, June 30, 2008
...but seeing this kind of thing almost every day over 11 years, you almost stop seeing it for what it is. Pure beauty.
When you move here from a place like northeast Louisiana, where the people are as good as any place you could hope to meet, but the scenery is, well, largely forgettable, you would initially tell yourself that you'll never get used to the incredible sunsets, walking out in the early morning barefooted and in shorts to get the paper...in January, but the daily grind of the job and things you have to do just eventually wears away the "new" of even a place like this.
That's one reason I love to have a camera in my hand. It forces me to notice every little detail, because hey, they might make a good shot, but overall, it keeps you mentally on your toes that you live in such an amazing place. That if you feel like taking the long way home you can enjoy the purple late evening clouds and sky and the huge expanses of water, that always seem so pretty.
So on a day when you are out for a little bit, despite the chronic back, and stressful work load, your camera helps you catch a nice, pretty view of the evening sky framed between some tropical looking palm trees.
It's not a special shot, in fact it's almost boring in it's common-ness.
But the heart of the matter is really that I SAW, FELT, SMELLED, and actually experienced the view.
Nothing common about that at all.
Friday, June 27, 2008
The slow, inevitable warping of the weathered boards on the boardwalk is stronger than the nails holding them there.
This is why, after hurricanes Jeanne and Francis in 2004, we replaced our blown down fence with a plastic one. Pvc or whatever that stuff is they make fences out of.
Now I don't have to go out there every two years or so and drive the nails back in to the boards like we did with the old fence.
On the ipod:
Pharisee by Disciple, from their "My Daddy Can Whip Your Daddy" cd.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
A nifty look at a nice little motel on the beach in Indialantic, Florida.
I like that there are still smaller ones like this, along with the massive chain hotels farther up the beach.
On the ipod:
Can't Breathe, by Disciple. From their "By God" Cd.
I give you my life
Set in the potter's hands
Make it what you want
Cause I can't move and I can't breathe
I can't love and I can't speak
I can't trust and I can't run
I can't wake and I can't sleep
I can't live my life without you
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Lovely Wife and I were walking along a boardwalk in Indialantic, Florida with the beach on one side and the sun setting on the other.
I happened to look toward the evening sun at the right moment and saw this interesting silhouette, so I took a couple of shots of it at different settings to lessen the flare of shooting into the sun like this.
When I downloaded them onto the computer at home I saw that the images looked as if I had treated them in Photoshop with the sepia filter.
Nope, that's simply how the images came out of the camera and I liked the look of it so much that I just slapped the border and copyright on it and called it "done."
I want to go back and try to color correct the image to see how that would look, just for fun, but sometimes photos just drop beautifully into your lap without even trying.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
These trees grow all over the place here in central Florida. I don't know what they are called, but these things grow to be super tall if allowed to.
I'm not good at estimating distances or heights, but these things will easily grow as tall as those really tall and skinny palm trees like you see in films of California.
I'm guessing they'll exceed 100 feet. (I'll try to remember to photograph a tall one and put on here so you can see just how tall they get)
Anyway, they are like tropical Christmas trees, and have a shape like a slim fir tree. Their texture is really detailed and intricate, which is what caught my eye on this small one of these trees at a public park on the Atlantic beach.
Monday, June 16, 2008
I know that lots of folks don't believe in God, but I do.
I see a sunset like this and see it as His handiwork.
I love fiddling with images in Photoshop Elements. I tend to make minor changes in almost all of my photos.
I have my camera set as close to "flat" as I can make it. My photos tend to come out of the camera a bit dull compared to many cameras, since most people's cameras come from the factory set to enhance colors and contrast.
I then add my own amounts of contrast and color saturation as I see fit. I try to keep things as natural as I can, but there is no such thing as a perfectly accurate photograph, even in these digital days.
With 35mm film, I loved how Kodachrome tended to enhance reds, oranges, magenta, and that end of the color spectrum.
I found Fuji films to enhance greens and to a lesser extent, blues, and came to love Fuji slide film over Kodachrome after moving to Florida. The colors of the sunsets here generally needed no enhancements at all, but preferred how Fuji's slide films made the lush greenery jump out of the photos.
But even with my digital camera's controls set pretty flat, sometimes a sunset is so outrageous that the colors seem to have been added with Photoshop trickery.
Not in this photo. It's barely touched, just a smidgen of contrast and the border and copyright I add to my photos.
Good job, God. (If I may be so bold.)
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Someone left their treasures on the hand rail of the boardwalk along the beach. (Color version of this on my other blog today.)
A lady spends a peaceful evening ALONE at the beach. She has all she needs in the handy, rolling ice chest.
How many of you ladies out there would just love to have an afternoon on a warm breezy day to spend at the beach with no kids or husbands to bother you? All your favorite beverages and snacks and a good book to keep you company.
Also, you'll need to practice your "Don't even bother speaking to me" look before you go just in case some moron invades your personal space bubble and you can back them off with just a look.
Then just decompress.