Berries
Berries (see in Gallery / Store) | Image by Bruce Harris
I caught this European cranberry bush (part of the Viburnum species) toward dusk.
The photo was produced with one of my favorite lenses, an 85mm f1.8 Sony lens. Not fancy or expensive, relatively speaking, but it worked well for me with its sharp focal points and shallow depth of field. I like the sunlight reflecting on the foremost berry, the shadow of the twigs cutting across the first leaf, and the detail produced in both the color and the decay of the subjects.
A few years back I was putting a new Sony kit together. I had found a floor model of a Sony A7R II, which was already an aging model, but it had an excellent sensor and superior resolution at 45mb per shot. I still use that camera, although when the budget allows, I’d like to upgrade to something that has a faster burst rate for wildlife shots. New high-resolution cameras have ten to twenty frames per second rather than the six my camera has. The new Sony has an inconceivable 120 frames per second. Every shot and shot per second counts for birds in flight or scurrying creatures, although sometimes old technology’s limitations create more interesting shots.
Regardless, my camera, combined with my old lens, is an excellent tool. It constantly reminds me, along with my phone camera, which is quite inferior from a glass and sensor standpoint, that photography starts and ends with the photographer’s eye. Worthwhile images can be composed with just about any camera. Resolution and sharpness are all benefits of bigger budgets, but if the shot is not composed in a way that communicates something, that captures the mood or the inspiration of the picture taker, it is not likely to capture the attention of anyone else.
I sold the lens as soon as I could afford a G Master lens, which is Sony’s pro-grade series of lenses. While I appreciate the superior nature of the upgraded lens, I’ve come to miss the simple 85mm prime lens that I had originally bought. I guess this could be buyer’s remorse. Put differently, less came with more, even though the 35mm f1.4 GM lens can take exceptionally sharp images and offer depth of field so creamy it seems like a vari-colored fog or a gray blurring the spectrum of black to white. But I find the lens to be a little temperamental, and that takes away from the point and shoot nature of my walks with Ollie the dog. At f1.4, the focus can sometimes be too sharp, and I find myself sensing that I should focus stack. Not every photo needs only the point of the needle to be pin-sharp. Sometimes the needle just needs to be a needle. I don’t always have the necessary time to take ten of the same photos. Ten incremental focus adjustments on the perfectly stilled tripod waiting for the perfectly stilled breeze.
On these frequent walks, I usually carry a monopod. I drop its leg and take the scene and move on to the next. I like to keep moving as does my impatient pooch. Yes, I could constantly mess with the f stop, but there again, more time will be taken as it is in my nature to rotate dials until I get everything just right. Looking one more time into the view finder, the moment, of course, will be lost. The wind blew. The light changed. The animal moved. The bird passed. Time is not always our friend.
I’m sure I will keep the 35mm lens. I like the focal length. I like that it is a prime lens. And when I take the time and have a little luck, the shots can be exceptional. Still, I miss several of the lessons the old lens reinforced. Let your feet be your zoom. Look closely. Walk slowly. Pay attention. Every living thing is a deserving subject.
All these things are true regardless of the tools a picture taker has. In the case of these berries, as with most of my photography, something happened to catch my eye. Probably the setting sun on the setting season in this one particular spot I happened by. The shot was quickly snapped. Had I waited a moment more, it would have been gone and never seen quite the same way again.