The one trick nature photographers don't want you to know

 

Warning: Twenty pictures incoming!

One of the real problems of nature photography is that unless one gets a spectacular scene, with just the right lighting, and a bit of luck, and hopefully a smattering of technical ability, it's pretty hard to make more than a very occasionally interesting shot. A focal point can help in this kind of composition, like maybe a celebrity or a particularly striking animal or two. Unfortunately it is hard to get very close to a celebrity or a wild animal. Along the way of the trail to Shadow Falls, which I have photographed for you a thousand times, and contended with this above issue in a myriad of ways over the years, I have seen and been close to a striking animal, a coyote, just once. And as for celebrities? I'm pretty sure I caught a glimpse of Ringo, but he kept scurrying under the leaves and I never got a decent shot.

So today on an hour walk in this charming, but humble, nature area, I once again charted my way in photographs that I doubt could trouble the interest of anyone for even a moment. But this time, I had a clear solution in mind.

Yes, I know you guessed it.

Of course you guessed it.

Obviously you guessed it.

But you have to admit, it's still pretty clever, even if it might wear out its welcome a little after so many iterations. And anyway, as I propose, if you roll with the repetition, the very outlandishness of that repetition returns the charm once again.

Or so I like to dream.

C'mon, take a little walk with me...

The wound may heal, but the scar remains

 

A library patron came to the library. He opened the doors and walked through our long entry full of people talking, returning books, and going to an event in the community room. He passed through the security gates into a large, high ceilinged area where dozens of people were browsing for DVD's. The public computers were full up, and another group was busy printing and faxing in that area. Other patrons looked for their requested books, and went up and down the stairs to and from further collections on the second floor. It was a busy day, and this library patron had to wait a moment until he could approach me at the front desk. Finally I was available and asked how I could help him.

"Is the library open today?" He wanted to know.

I was a bit surprised by the question as it seemed self evident. 

"Yes." I replied. And then by way of explanation, "You're here."

"Well, I came another time." He complained with a touch of peevishness. "And you were closed."

Brief tour of the city

 

In the aftermath of a lovely long weekend with my darling wife wandering around Saint Minneapolis, I ended up with a random travelogue of pictures of Fox and Skunk around town. There were toy stores, nature areas, historic buildings, and coffee shops.

Among these few pictures there include whimsical, offhand two-minute constructions of questionable merit, and tour-de-force works of complicated genius. As per usual on clerkmanifesto, it will be nearly impossible to tell which is which.

Selling the costume

 

As I write, it is the actual day of Halloween and I am at the front desk of the library with a meat cleaver embedded in my skull.

This is not a metaphor, nor is it a meataphor, and it is not an actual cleaver in my head, rather it's a costume headband that looks very plausibly like a bloody cleaver is deeply embedded into my brains. 

Sometimes people look at me and laugh, or sometimes they smile and say "I forgot what day today was." Sometimes they don't react to me at all. Sometimes they make a joke, like "Wow, you must have a headache."  And sometimes they say something that's probably unrelated to the cleaver, like "So I had my colonoscopy yesterday."

But one young man just looked at me and sighed. 

"Oh my gosh." He said.

I regarded him sternly.

I waggled a finger.

"Be careful in the kitchen." I warned.