Showing posts with label microscope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label microscope. Show all posts

Monday, March 01, 2021

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.



Sunday, December 29, 2019

Micro beasties

I bought myself another microscope. A cheap one, for students, with low magnification, but like the even cheaper one I'd had a few years back (that didn't last long), with the ability to take photos. The one I had been using up to now was for my eyes only.

Tonight, I set it up and collected some stuff from my aquarium; a teaspoonful of sand, a fragment of seaweed, a few empty (or so I thought) shells, and one of the smaller hermit crabs. Arranged them on plastic lids, since they needed to be kept in water, shoved them under the 'scope, and tried to focus. It's a bit difficult when your target keeps running away; even the seaweed was carrying mini-critters on the move.

Pacific rose seaweed, Rhodymenia pacifica. With worm and snails.

This delicate (but oh, so durable in my tank) seaweed is a sheet with one layer of cells. Here, each cell is visible. The fragment was about 3 mm wide. The worm, that looked like a hair, but crawled about slowly, is about as wide as one seaweed cell. Even through the microscope, I didn't recognize the dark patches, but once I blew up the photo, I see that they're all snail shape. No wonder I always have a batch of new tiny snails climbing the walls!

Another snail. Shell only, abandoned in the sand.

This was in the teaspoon of sand. The snail shell is about as large as the larger sand grains. Still tiny. With everything under a film of water, the microscope LED lights produce glitter. I edited out what I could without destroying what is underneath, but the tiniest white specks are moving critters, all constantly in random motion, sort of like a swarm of midges. Some of the brighter patches of light were pulsating, squirming something-or-others. I managed to see a couple of worms and something with legs before they hid under the sand grains again. Some of the sand grains were bouncing; there was something busy underneath.

On an old cluster of empty barnacle shells, a colony of orange-striped green anemones has settled in.

One of my smaller hermit crabs.

I've been wanting to get a good look at these hermits for a while. They look like hairies (Pagurus hirsutiusculus), but never seem to grow up to the expected size. Maybe I'm not giving them enough time. This one certainly looks like a hairy; banded green antennae, blue marks on the legs. But those two rows of lumps on the pincer arm look interesting: I'll have to examine more of these little guys.

A couple of periwinkles.

And a tiny snail, half the size of the smallest periwinkle, on the move. With sand grains for size.
This is fun! Let it rain!


Monday, December 28, 2009

Head of a pin, with eyes

White Rock in the sunshine! Shorebirds and dogs not getting along, sand and waves in a tug-of-war, the smell of drying seaweed and the shriek of gulls! And beasties, too!

Laurie left his new Lee Valley hiking stick in Tim Horton's on Saturday, so we ended up back in White Rock, and on the beach of course, Sunday afternoon, too. Again, we came home smiling, laden with photos and "stuff"; rocks and shells and additions to the aquarium.

Among them was this tiny isopod, the Oregon pillbug, I think.



These are fairly common; I've captured a few before. This one is just a baby, barely 1 mm across, rolled up like this. They grow to about 1 centimetre, just under half an inch long.  Here it is, full-length:



I'm pretty pleased with my little cheap microscope; I would never have gotten these with my camera. And with the microscope, I could even make a video:



I can see that it's going to take more than a couple of days to cover this outing; besides the birds and the rest of the "big" things, I've got a handful of critters, including another video to make. Life's too short!

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Eyes and not-eyes: macros

I'm still experimenting with that new microscope. Such fun!



Optex 200x Digital Magnifier

This is the 'scope. There's more info in the London Drugs flyer. I found that it is very unsteady, tending to tip over from its own weight. The focus knob is in the middle of the barrel; when I remove my hand once the focus is right, the whole thing shakes and the focus is lost. I made a wood base for it and attached it firmly. That helps a lot, but the clamp on the barrel doesn't stay put, so I'll have to figure something out to fix that.

If the object is positioned right, and small enough, I can get up to 200x magnification. For larger objects, the distance has to be increased, and so far, I've only managed to focus up to 40 or 60x.

The lighting system works fine, except that at 40x or so, if the target is reflective, I get flare-outs around the edge.

Otherwise, I'm still trying to get the right settings for exposure and colour balance, etc. I'll get there, eventually.

These are a couple of today's test subjects:

A few days ago, on a fallen leaf, I found a tiny green leafhopper.



It was barely 4 mm. long (about 3/8 inch), including that extra length of wings. It was alive, but barely. Under the hand microscope (40x), the eyes were a beautiful, shimmery pale blue. I left it in a bottle to warm up, but it died soon after.

With the new microscope (200x), I looked at the eyes again. The pale blue light is gone. The eyes are deep blue-green now.



And I've put it back in its bottle. I'll try it again, later; maybe I can get a better shot.

The hopper lies still, at least. I put the little maggot from last week on the slide. It's still very much alive and busy; what a job it was to get a head shot!



The black lines are internal mouth parts. They are in continual movement, even when the maggot is otherwise still.

And here's a silly grin:



"Hi, there!"

No, I did not highlight these with blue marker. They are not eyes; this is the tail end of the maggot, and the circles are the spiracles, breathing holes.

More tomorrow.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Yay! A new toy!

Rain, rain, and more rain. No beach outing today. I went out in the afternoon and bought a cheap digital microscope from London Drugs, one that downloads photos directly to the computer, and I've spent the night (and a good part of the early morning) setting it up and learning how to use it. It's slow going; the manual is standard-issue, describing software that doesn't match what they gave me, missing out important steps, telling me I can edit the photos, and not giving me editing tools ...

So I'm learning by trial and error, as usual. Good thing I like tinkering.

Here's a sample of what it might offer me:

A piece of dried ribbed kelp from Boundary Bay beach is spotted with patches of an encrusting bryozoan. I soaked it to soften it, and took a few photos with the camera:



The bryozoan colonies are not circular, nor orderly like the kelp-encrusting bryozoans I found earlier; these individuals are clumped together higgledy-piggledy. And they are like none I have found in my books.

This is what the microscope produced:





Unidentified bryozoans.

The other bryozoans were box-like, but these look like some sort of breakfast cereal, or maybe an enameled colander. The open end is the lophophore, where the tentacles of the live animal would be extended, waving food towards the mouth.

As I figure out the best way to set up the microscope, the photos should get better. For now, I'm happy. And I'm going to bed before it's time to get up again. G'night!
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