Because you asked

I was asked a few days ago about the microscope I am using. Mark thought I had done a post on this before (I think I did, ages and ages ago), but it's time for an update. I'll include the camera and lens info, too.

My equipment is basic, bare-bones, not expensive. The camera I'm using now is the Nikon D7500, upgraded recently from the old D7000 that was becoming increasingly temperamental.

I have several lenses, but mostly use the basic kit lens, 18 - 55 mm, for outdoor photos, because I never know if I'm going for a scenery shot or a mushroom, and I will not change lenses on the go; I'm sure to get dust inside. Inside, for casual shots, I'll use this lens, too.

Oyster Bay, long-range shot. 18-55 mm., shot at 18 mm.

I usually have the camera set to automatic everything; again, I want to be able to switch from a look at a flower to swivel and attempt to catch a bird before it dives, and have the camera adjust for the constantly changing light direction and strength. I usually keep moving, so I don't have the time to sit down and wait with the camera on fixed focus; sometimes I try it, although with poor results; the diving birds absolutely refuse to come up in the spot I've focussed on.

Chia in a bag. 18 - 55 mm, shot at 28 mm.

For aquariium photos, I switch to my 40 mm. lens. Although the kit lens will do 40 mm., the fixed lens allows me to get up to within an inch or even less of my subject. For unplanned shots, the camera and lens are on autofocus, because my critters are constantly in motion. For real close-ups I set the camera to manual and zoom in the view screen to focus on smaller points. Mostly, I take dozens of shots to get one decent one; did I mention that these beasties are constantly moving?

Sometimes I do a minor focus stack, when two or three photos manage to get a critter in one position, with different areas in focus.

I have a tripod. I rarely use it.

Asian mud snail, Batillaria attramentaria, in aquarium. 40 mm., manual focus, with flash, two shot stack.

The 40 mm. lens is greedy for light. I use all the light I can get: flashlights, daylight from the window, house lights, tank lights. Sometimes I use the flash, with a second flash slaved to it, but at really close ranges, the lens itself casts a shadow just where I want the light. I keep telling myself I should buy a ring light, and never get around to it.

The microscope is a cheap hobbyist toy, the Celestron MicroCapture Pro. It zooms to 200x, is a bit difficult to focus, but connects to the computer, which my other handheld did not.

Mud snail operculum, under the microscope.

I use Photoshop Elements to process the photos. I shoot in RAW, to be able to make sure the colours are as close to what I see as possible. The camera's JPEGs are widely variable.

Basically, I correct the colour and lighting, reduce noise, and sharpen. Sometimes I take out a bit of extraneous material, like the plastic bottle I left in yesterday.

Moss on a rock. 18 - 55 mm. 55 mm. bright sun. Two-shot stack, with minimal editing.

On aquarium shots, I also have conflicting algae spots on the glass, bubbles and speeding copepods, a messy background, uneven lighting, a shallow range of focus. Sometimes I have to spend more time cleaning these up.

One thing I've noticed. I'm getting older. My hands shake more than they used to. I get tired sooner. I find it harder to balance on rocking logs or slippery seaweed; then it's not only my hands that are shaking; it's all of me. I lose more photos because of the shakes.

But my eyes are still good. And the world around me is still as beautiful and fascinating as ever.

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Me preguntaron la semana pasada qué microscopio estoy usando. Mark pensaba que había escrito sobre eso en algún tiempo (creo que sí, pero hace siglos); ya era hora que me pusiera al corriente. Voy a incluir también los datos de la cámara y las lentes que uso.

Mi equipo es muy básico, económico, sin extras. La cámara que ahora tengo es el Niikon D7500, una nueva para tomar el lugar de la vieja D7000, que ya operaba cada vez más de mala gana.

Tengo varias lentes, pero uso principalmente la del kit original, de 18 a 55 mm., para fotos tomadas afuera de la casa, porque nunca sé si voy a estar tomando fotos de montañas o de honguitos, y me rehuso a cambiar lentes fuera de la casa; seguro sería que se me metiera algo de arena dentro de la cámara abierta. En casa, para fotos al azahar, uso esta lente también. 

Primera foto: Oyster Bay a marea baja, una distancia larga. La lente es la 18 a 55 mm., enfocada a 18 mm.

Casi siempre tengo la cámara puesta en modo automático, para todo; enfoque, luz, color, porque quiero poder cambiar instantáneamente de tomar una foto de una flor a voltear y tratar de capturar un pájaro antes de que se desaparezca, de mirar hacia la luz a dar la vuelta hacia las sombras. Casi siempre estoy en movimiento; no acostumbro sentarme con la cámara puesta en modo de enfoque manual. Algunas veces hago el intento, casi siempre con malos resultado porque los pájaros malcriados nunca salen a la superficie en el punto hacia donde estoy enfocando.

Segunda foto: la gata Chia en una bolsa de papel. La lente es 18 a 55 mm., enfocada a 28 mm.

Para fotos en el acuario uso la lente fija de 40 mm. Aunque la lente del kit podría enfocar a 40 mm., la lente fija me permite acercarme hasta a 2 cm. del sujeto. Si no tengo foto planeado, está puesta a enfoque automático, porque mis animalitos están en movimiento continuo. Para acercarme más, cambio a enfoque manual, y aumento la vista en la pantallita. Y saco docenas de fotos así para salir con una más o menos útil; ¿habré mencionado que estos bichos siempre se están moviendo?

A veces hago una unión de dos o tres fotos cuando un sujeto se queda casi sin moverse por unos minutos, así logrando tener enfocada una mayor parte del animal.

Tengo un tripode. Casi nunca la uso.

Tercera foto. Una caracol marino, Batillaria attramentaria en el acuario. La lente es 40 mm., enfoque manual, dos fotos con flash.

La lente de 40 mm. pide mucha luz. Uso todo lo que sea posible: luz del dia, luz de lámparas, luz del acuario, linterna. A veces puedo usar el flash, con un auxiliar que dispara al mismo instante, pero para fotos tomadas muy de cerca, la lente misma añade su sombra justo donde necesito la luz. Me digo siempre que debo comprarme una luz redonda para la lente, pero por alguna razón, siempre se me olvida.

El microscopio es casi un juguete, un microscopio "hobby", el Celestron MicroCapture Pro. Hace zoom hasta a 200 veces el tamaño natural, enfoca con una poca de dificultad, pero se conecta a la computadora, lo que no hacía el microscopio que antes usaba.

Cuarta foto: Otro caracol, mostrando su opérculo (la tapa que la encierra para esconderse).

Uso el programa de Photoshop Elements para procesar las fotos, porque saco fotos en formato RAW, para asegurar que las fotos salgan con los colores y la nivel de luz tal como las vi. En formato JPEG, las fotos salen muy variables.

Corrijo el color, la luz, bajo el nivel de ruido (manchas producidas por la cámara), y ajusto en enfoque un poquito. A veces borro un detalle que no debe estar en la foto, como la botella de plástico que no borré de la foto de ayer.

Quinta foto: musgo en una roca. Lente 18 a 55 mm., enfocada a 55 mm. Luz natural, dos fotos unidas, con modificaciones mínimas.

En las fotos en el acuario, también hay puntos de alga creciendo en el vidrio, burbujas, y copépodos nadando alrededor, un fondo algo enredado, niveles de luz variables, y una profundidad de enfoque limitado. A veces tengo que pasar más tiempo limpiando estas fotos.

Una cosa que se me ha presentado: me estoy haciendo vieja. Las manos me tiemblan más que antes. Me canso más. Se me hace más difícil balancearme sobre troncos inestables o sobre algas marinas resbalosas; en estos momentos no solo son las manos que tiemblan; me tiembla todo el cuerpo. Pierdo más fotos por estos temblores.

Pero los ojos todavía me sirven. Y el mundo alrededor es tan bello y fascinante como siempre.

Testing, testing, Part II

Under the docks at Brown's Bay.

It had been a bright, sunshiny day. In town, everything seemed sharp-edged, colours washed out to whites and off-whites. By supper time, I'd had enough, and headed north, out of town to the greens and the browns, and the cool of the evening. On a whim, I turned off at the Ripple Rock sign, and drove down to Brown's Bay. Maybe I'd have supper in the restaurant there.

There was no "cool of the evening" in Brown's Bay, yet. There were a few hours to go to sunset, and the light shimmered off the water, making me squint. (I'd forgotten my sunglasses in the car, and was too stubborn to go back for them.) Most of the boats in the marina were white, glaring, dazzling, featureless white.

Looking straight out to the breakwater. Vivid setting; a bit more saturated than what my sun-dazed eyes registered, and not as sparkly.

There was darkness and coolness down below the docks, but the contrast was too strong: I could make out vague white shapes down there, see the rings tiny fish made as they sampled the dust floating on the surface. When I was right above them, I could see the fish.

I couldn't see anything on the camera screen. I took photos anyhow.

Those vague white things, Plumose anemones. The camera on the Vivid setting saw them much better than I did.

A few of the fish, and two varieties of large kelp. (Broad-winged and Seersucker kelp?)

The docks float on these blue plastic tubs, home to a community of anemones, worms, mussels, and limpets. And, I think, a few green sea urchins.

The restaurant was noisy and crowded; I'd have to sit outside. In the sunshine. No. I got back in the car and drove to Sayward for a sandwich. The sun was setting as I drove home.

Brown's Bay is just north of Ripple Rock.

I'm pleased with the results using the Vivid setting, at least for underwater life. I've been testing it today with spiders and crickets; I'll post some of those tomorrow.

Testing, testing. Experimenting with colour control.

I've been learning more about the controls on my camera. (There are so many, and the manual is so confusing!) An article on Digital Photography School alerted me to the Picture Control settings, and I've been experimenting with them. The author recommends using a Flat setting for landscapes; it reduces blowouts or too dark areas, but needs careful processing later.

I took a few photos on Flat. They turned out flat. There was too much guesswork involved on tiny things where I didn't already know what colours they should be.

I switched back to Standard, and then, on a whim, to Vivid. This setting emphasizes colours and contrast, not really my style in landscapes, especially the grey-green landscapes of the Pacific Northwest. But it never hurts to experiment.

I turned to the aquarium; here, a vivid setting might help. Colours fade underwater, especially when the photo is taken through algae-covered glass. And here are the first sample shots, some good, some not so good.

A mud snail, Batillaria attramentaria, eating algae off the glass. Lightened, background noise despeckled out, and sharpened.

A grainy hand hermit, Pagurus granosimanus. The vivid setting shows up the blue bumps on his legs and chelipeds.

A carnivorous snail eating an inoffensive algae eater. I saw it first on the glass, prying the tiny snail off. Once the little guy was captured, the predator let go and dropped to the sand.

A nude hermit, recently molted, resting before he goes looking for a new shell. This was well back in the tank, where usually everything is greyed out. Post processing was only needed to reduce noise and sharpen.

Turned around and heading down to look for a shell. Despeckled and sharpened only.

And one photo that didn't quite work:

Orange-striped green anemone, Halliplanela lineata, on the glass.

The anemone was surrounded by extreme pollution; bubbles and swimming thingies, luckily behind the critter, but still confusing. The vivid setting highlighted them all, so the background had to be cropped out and re-worked; a long, slow job. But I'm impressed by the pattern in the base, so I've included the photo.

I went to Brown's Bay in the sunshine, with the camera set to Vivid. Bad idea; I've deleted all of the landscape photos. But I got a few critters under the docks, where the setting seems to have been helpful. I'll process those tomorrow.

Testing Shutter priority mode

I usually keep my camera set to Auto, and toggle quickly from manual focus to autofocus. Both settings have their advantages; manual focus for face shots on critters that happen to be sitting still, autofocus for their more rambunctious moods. I've tried the aperture priority setting; it works out fine for larger objects, where I want the background to lose detail, but for the unpredictable smaller things, spiders and hermits and the like, it leaves me too often with the whole critter just out of range.

I hadn't tried Shutter priority before; "they" say it's for long exposures with a tripod, or on the other end of the scale, for sports and other fast action photos. And I rarely have opportunity for either.

But how about in macro photography, where the tiny subjects are almost too fast for my shutter finger? For the last few days, I've been experimenting with the fastest shutter speed setting my camera can handle. And I'm happy! I managed to "freeze" some amphipods!

Amphipod hiding in the sea lettuce, tests the current with one antenna, one leg. More legs are visible through the sea lettuce.

Tail end of an amphipod. Their legs stick out in all directions, which makes sense, seeing how they move about; they swim or scramble forward, backward, or sideways, "upside-down" in our terms, or right-side up; it makes no difference to them.

Courting pair, waiting for her (the small one) to be ready to mate. The male appears to be staring down a worm inching its way along the eelgrass. "Scram, or I'll stab you!" he says.

These photos are almost as they came from the camera, except for resizing and adjusting the white balance. I took out a few scratches on the glass, as well.

I had to jack up the ISO to 800, so there's a bit of noise in the darker areas, what with shooting through old glass and moving water. But the colours are truer than at my usual settings, and the flash doesn't produce the awkward highlights that show up at slower speeds. And even a running hermit crab gets his photo taken!

Very small hermit (less than 1/2 inch long) on a barnacled clamshell.

Another tiny one, at a crossroads high in the eelgrass.

Tentacles, tomorrow.

Repeat customer

I've been working this week on learning how to use the Shutter Priority mode on the camera*. It has already been helpful: I managed to get decent shots of a large rove beetle with a mania for speed.

As usual, much of my practicing has been through the glass of the aquarium. Hermits, mainly, also as usual. But this guy is also learning something:

"Cheese!"

He came to the glass to look at me, so I took his photo. He stayed put, and I took another, and another, before I went off to chase an amphipod. When I came by again, Speckles, here, dropped his play and came to pose in front of the glass again. I obliged, taking another couple of photos, then moved on to look at a limpet.

The next time the camera flashed, he ran over to where it was, and struck another pose. Next time, the same. In all, I have photos from 7 short sessions, all at his insistence, all with him as close to the glass as he can get, staring straight into the lens.

Is it the flash that he likes? Or is he seeing himself mirrored in the lens? Does he understand that it's him, out there? Or just a friendly face?

Questions, questions.

* Sample shots, tomorrow. For now, I notice that colours seem more intense with the current camera settings, and the photos are sharper.