January 30th was very windy in central Pennsylvania. It was so much the theme of the day it's all I wanted to get a picture of. I had all kinds of great ideas how to do it and none of them really worked. These two give you a little feeling for what it was like, but don't really convey the strength of the wind.
In order to produce the effect, I mounted my D200 on a tripod and took multiple pictures. (If I'd have known this was the method to be used in the final product I'd have taken more pictures.) Then I opened them in Photoshop and took everything but the flag out of each picture except the background layer using Magic Extractor. Then I merged the pictures to give the effect of the flags blowing in the wind. I wish it were better, but for a first attempt at serious creativity, maybe it's not too bad.
This picture made me think of dad. He used to love to hunt. He and Craig loved to hunt together. I remember coming home from college at Christmas the semester after returning from my mission. Dad was always a great planner so he had planned a hunting trip for the three of us (Craig, Dad, myself). Two nights before we left he took me into the garage, picked up a shotgun and said, "Rodg, this is a shotgun." It was akin to "the birds and bees" at age 11. His assumption (nearly correct) was that I was starting at ground zero. Turns out I'd shot birds in Idaho on Lisa's ranch and in Utah with Jay and Jeff my freshman year at BYU. Anyway, he took me all the way through the shotgun lecture. The next day he and Craig and I went somewhere to shoot skeet. I wasn't very good and was amazed at how often Craig and Dad could hit those blasted clay pigeons. Then, the next morning Dad woke me up at some ungodly hour (it was dark and it was cold), stuffed me in the pickup and drove over to Craig's house. After Craig got in I fell asleep (so much for male bonding) and my impression is we drove for a long time. When we wound up wherever we did, it was still dark, and cold and foggy. We put on hip waders and walked out into the fog in hip deep water. At some point we came to a cement "tube" vertically placed in the water and dad said, "get in." "Don't shoot anything until it gets light." Then off he and Craig went into the fog with their dogs. Sitting in the dark in a cold, cement tube, alone in the fog wasn't my idea of fun nor my idea of male bonding. Is this really what hunting was all about? Did I forget to mention Craig and Dad both had dogs? Pretty soon it got lighter, you could see the outline of the sun through the fog low to the horizon (at least I knew which direction was what), and right over my head flies a duck. I don't think I even got the gun to my shoulder - it was straight over my head. I shot "up" and a bird came down. A short time later one flies straight across my position (a little more challenging shot) and it goes down as well. Then a big, white bird flies over and down it goes. From somewhere in the fog my dad's voice rings out, "Rodger, what are you doing?!" "Shooting birds." "What does it look like?" "It's big and white." With a bit of panic in his voice my father cries, "how long is its neck?" Later I found out her was afraid my snow goose was a swan and he'd be banned from hunting for life. By lunch time I had 4 birds and Craig and Dad hadn't pulled their respective triggers. They suggested we may as well go home. I was uncomfortable hunting. Heck, I catch flies in the house and let them go outside. Thankfully, they never asked me to go again. Beginner's luck? No, a blessing from God. He knew they'd never ask me again if I got all those birds and I was too whimpy to say I didn't want to go.
January 30th was very windy in central Pennsylvania. It was so much the theme of the day it's all I wanted to get a picture of. I had all kinds of great ideas how to do it and none of them really worked. These two give you a little feeling for what it was like, but don't really convey the strength of the wind.
In order to produce the effect, I mounted my D200 on a tripod and took multiple pictures. (If I'd have known this was the method to be used in the final product I'd have taken more pictures.) Then I opened them in Photoshop and took everything but the flag out of each picture except the background layer using Magic Extractor. Then I merged the pictures to give the effect of the flags blowing in the wind. I wish it were better, but for a first attempt at serious creativity, maybe it's not too bad.
This picture made me think of dad. He used to love to hunt. He and Craig loved to hunt together. I remember coming home from college at Christmas the semester after returning from my mission. Dad was always a great planner so he had planned a hunting trip for the three of us (Craig, Dad, myself). Two nights before we left he took me into the garage, picked up a shotgun and said, "Rodg, this is a shotgun." It was akin to "the birds and bees" at age 11. His assumption (nearly correct) was that I was starting at ground zero. Turns out I'd shot birds in Idaho on Lisa's ranch and in Utah with Jay and Jeff my freshman year at BYU. Anyway, he took me all the way through the shotgun lecture. The next day he and Craig and I went somewhere to shoot skeet. I wasn't very good and was amazed at how often Craig and Dad could hit those blasted clay pigeons. Then, the next morning Dad woke me up at some ungodly hour (it was dark and it was cold), stuffed me in the pickup and drove over to Craig's house. After Craig got in I fell asleep (so much for male bonding) and my impression is we drove for a long time. When we wound up wherever we did, it was still dark, and cold and foggy. We put on hip waders and walked out into the fog in hip deep water. At some point we came to a cement "tube" vertically placed in the water and dad said, "get in." "Don't shoot anything until it gets light." Then off he and Craig went into the fog with their dogs. Sitting in the dark in a cold, cement tube, alone in the fog wasn't my idea of fun nor my idea of male bonding. Is this really what hunting was all about? Did I forget to mention Craig and Dad both had dogs? Pretty soon it got lighter, you could see the outline of the sun through the fog low to the horizon (at least I knew which direction was what), and right over my head flies a duck. I don't think I even got the gun to my shoulder - it was straight over my head. I shot "up" and a bird came down. A short time later one flies straight across my position (a little more challenging shot) and it goes down as well. Then a big, white bird flies over and down it goes. From somewhere in the fog my dad's voice rings out, "Rodger, what are you doing?!" "Shooting birds." "What does it look like?" "It's big and white." With a bit of panic in his voice my father cries, "how long is its neck?" Later I found out her was afraid my snow goose was a swan and he'd be banned from hunting for life. By lunch time I had 4 birds and Craig and Dad hadn't pulled their respective triggers. They suggested we may as well go home. I was uncomfortable hunting. Heck, I catch flies in the house and let them go outside. Thankfully, they never asked me to go again. Beginner's luck? No, a blessing from God. He knew they'd never ask me again if I got all those birds and I was too whimpy to say I didn't want to go.
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