Taken in the town of Arnold where we stayed for a few days just after Christmas. Arnold is located at an elevation where winter storms are just as likely to bring rain instead of snow. Luckily for us it had just snowed so we were able to go for a neighborhood walk in the frosty landscape.
In Atlanta, waiting to take off, I stared out the airplane window: the water tower in the distance kept disappearing behind torrential downpours, then reappearing as the sky kept getting progressively darker. Takeoff was delayed multiple times; when we finally took off the evening was upon us—we arrived in San Francisco just before midnight.
Staring out at the darkness beyond the window during the flight I was struck by how ubiquitous the lights of civilization were—the only place where I couldn't see any electric lights was on the Utah-Nevada border area.
Our route took us going north from Georgia through a corner of North Carolina. Needless to say, we stopped frequently to view the autumn foliage. This photo was taken from one side of the road looking across to the other side.
The Battle of Lookout Mountain was fought November 24, 1863, as part of the Chattanooga Campaign of the American Civil War. Union forces under Maj. Gen. Joseph Hooker assaulted Lookout Mountain, Chattanooga, Tennessee, and defeated Confederate forces commanded by Maj. Gen. Carter L. Stevenson. Lookout Mountain was one engagement in the Chattanooga battles between Maj. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant's Military Division of the Mississippi and the Confederate Army of Tennessee, commanded by Gen. Braxton Bragg. It drove in the Confederate left flank and allowed Hooker's men to assist in the Battle of Missionary Ridge the following day, which routed Bragg's army, lifting the siege of Union forces in Chattanooga, and opened the gateway into the Deep South.
So I'm using the Nikon D90 as a fixed-lens prosumer camera akin to my 2006 Olympus C-8080. On this type of camera the lens is a high quality zoom with a decent wide-to-telephoto range. And, it's permanently fixed to the camera body: you can't switch lenses as you can with an SLR. One of the great advantages of the fixed lens is the avoidance of dust on the sensor. I've followed this particular prosumer model in utilizing the Nikon D90. I purchased the D90 body along with a Nikkor 16-85mm lens. When I received the two packages from B&H I affixed the lens to the camera body, and there it has stayed. With the 16-85 in place I haven't felt the need to purchase extra lenses. The interesting thing about it is that its zoom range, the equivalent of 24-127 in 35mm format, is actually better at the wide end than the set of three lenses I had in the 60s and 70s when using a Nikon-F (28mm, 50mm and 135mm). Please note that we will not enter the zoom vs. prime discussion at this point.
So I've denied myself the exquisite pleasure of purchasing many extra highly expensive lenses, along with the pleasure of carrying them around. Actually, I find the switching-out of lenses to be very tedious and a serious impediment to the creative process. Also note that not having a collection of lenses means that changing brands is much more doable. As I've mentioned before, the combined weight of this particular lens/body combo is more than I'd like, so I've been keeping tabs on the recent batch of light-weight quality cameras from Olympus, Panasonic and others.
I wouldn't mind having more in the "telephoto" range, for birds and such. But, oh well! You can't have everything!
Photos: Nikon D90 with Nikkor 16-85 lens—Marin County, 2010; Olympus C-8080—Marin County, 2008; Logistics Manager Camera Case: Room for Camera Bodies & Lenses
The text in question reads, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." King James version, of course.
To be honest, though, John 3:16 really doesn't speak to the issue of Hell. For that you have to go to James Joyce's Father Arnall in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man: "Hell is a strait and dark and foul-smelling prison, an abode of demons and lost souls, filled with fire and smoke. The straitness of this prison house is expressly designed by God to punish those who refused to be bound by His laws. In earthly prisons the poor captive has at least some liberty of movement, were it only within the four walls of his cell or in the gloomy yard of his prison. Not so in hell. There, by reason of the great number of the damned, the prisoners are heaped together in their awful prison, the walls of which are said to be four thousand miles thick."
At random and unpredictable times the Canon G12, when powered on, will show the display as seen above. It's been happening since I got the camera a few months ago; it'll disappear upon turning the camera off and then on again. Up until now I've never had another camera available to record the event; luckily, I was able to borrow Barbara's nice new S95 the other night to take a quick snap.
I don't know what the display is supposed to represent. Although it doesn't match up with the time of day it does seem to be some sort of clock . . . (?)
As I was driving on the (very primitive) Arroyo Seco Freeway I came upon this scene at the freeway's end in Pasadena. I remember having to look for a parking spot and walking back with my Nikon F trying to find a vantage point from which to take the photograph.
This is one of my first digital photographs. These flowers were in front of a florist’s shop on Solano Avenue in Berkeley; what caught my eye was not the flowers so much as it was the arrangement of the pails.
And, my best-selling print in 2010! Therefore, somewhat ironic that I took the photo with an Olympus 4-megapixel point-and-shoot camera. Also ironic: another 4-MP shot is also selling right along with the flower pix.