There will always be new uploads for you to view on my Flickr page. Some are more popular than others. The addition of a drone to my camera armoury has been a big boon to my paltry stats (not that I got it for that).
Two of my most viewed shots this year were taken with the Mavic. And the winner(?) with 1,300 views on the site was this one:
Suiderstand, Rasperpunt and along the coast towards the Southernmost tip of Africa from 100m up.
I don’t think it was my best shot, but since life seems to be just one big popularity contest these days, maybe by some metric or other, it actually was.
After I posted a photo I took over the weekend, long-suffering reader and all-round top ‘tog Chris J Wormwell (you may remember him from such posts as Chris’ PoA sky & lighthouse p0rn and The photo that I wanted to share yesterday but couldn’t because the dog ate the internet) got in touch with some sage advice:
This was a huge help and step forward for me recently: https://www.lonelyspeck.com/how-to-process-milky-way-astrophotography-in-adobe-lightroom/
I clicked through, and was rewarded with a step-by-step guide to making this photo:
And it only took me ten minutes or so.
Some points from my experience:
I think the photo looks much better.
Note that all that stuff was there in the original – you just couldn’t see it.
If I can do it, so can you.
The guide was really helpful.
I now know that I will need to take a better photo next time if I want to make it even better.
But also, I now know how to do that.
There are loads of other ideas for night photography on that site that I haven’t had chance to look at yet.
A(nother) new door has been opened. Thanks, Chris.
I solved my problem yesterday by using the System Restore tool to travel back in time to a point when I didn’t have the catchily-named
Windows Malicious Software Removal Tool for Windows 8, 8.1, 10 and Windows Server 2012, 2012 R2, 2016 x64 Edition – November 2017 (KB890830)
on my laptop.
My laptop didn’t seem to like something about that particular update, but all seems to be running smoothly now. And yes, I realise that I will have to reinstall that update at some point, but at least if things go awry again, I’ll know why it is and I can deal with it a bit more quickly than I did this time around.
All of that meant that I could finally get some photos uploaded from the weekend, and that means that you will be able to see them shortly.
Watch this space.
Just documenting the fact that my jellyfish photos from the weekend have been used in the Aquarium’s blog post about that same jellyfish.
This is great. The only issue is that I linked to that same Aquarium jellyfish blog post (above) in my original jellyfish blog post (er… also above), so there’s a risk of some degree of recursion.
But I’m sure you’ll cope.
You can also look at the jellyfish pictures on Flickr.
…was the somewhat ominous comment I put on this photo from November 2008. But there were no actual serious injuries that day.
That’s little 0.6 being swung by my Mum and me at De Mond nature reserve down in Cape Agulhas. It was a blisteringly hot day, which is why 5-month-old K-pu was sensibly sheltering under a tree somewhere back at the car park.
For the record, Alex is now 11½ and his sister has just turned 9. Shoulder injuries and medical bills would be much more likely these days.
When someone close leaves your life, they’re never really “gone”. Memories, jogged by photographs or visits or sounds or dates – or whatever – are always there.
I could easily be walking along that sandy track next to my Mum right now: she’s counting up to 3, for Alex’s next short flight. We’re watching the terns take flight through the heat haze. We’re listening to the crickets in the grass. We should really have brought some more water along. It is – as I mentioned before – really hot. The still air is thick. Alex wants another swing.
And then back to the weirdest, dodgiest self-catering place in all of Arniston (possibly even in all of South Africa).
And this is just one moment, on one afternoon, on one day. There’s literally a lifetime of other memories, each just waiting to be accessed.
She’d want us to remember it all, from the mundane to the unusual. And I do. Most every day.