Manoa Road Repaving

Having moved to temperate Hawaii from the cold Northeast, I was surprised at the poor condition of the roads in paradise. I had always thought that potholes were the result of the expansion and contraction of cracks in the asphalt, caused by freezing and thawing. 

How is it then that there are so many potholes in an area where the temperature rarely drops below 60 degrees Fahrenheit (15 degrees Celsius)?

It seems as if rain alone can wreak havoc on a roadway, especially if the surface is cracked, thin, and poorly constructed, according to the author of “Why Hawaii’s Roads are Bad.”

Following recent rains, the Department of Transportation says they’ve used 37 tons of mixed asphalt over three days to fill in potholes across Oahu. Eventually, when patching is not sufficient, they repave entire roads, which is the process I documented in my Manoa neighborhood.

The construction workers curiously asked why I was photographing. “I’m taking a class,” I replied. “Cool” came the reply. I was fascinated by some of the equipment as well as the process itself, which seemed highly orchestrated and choreographed. 

My equipment of choice for this “Backyard Geographic” excursion was an Olympus E-M5 Mark III camera with a 12-100mm lens, which allowed me to get some wide shots as well as a few close-ups without getting in the workers’ way.


A Trip to the Zoo

I found a poster advertising early evening tours of the Honolulu Zoo (after it closed to the public), and I thought it would be a good opportunity to see the animals in a different light. 

(I went despite the poster having two misplaced apostrophes.)

I remember one factoid from my safari experience in South Africa; namely, that lions snooze for 18-20 hours a day. So, I was hoping that the subjects would be more active at this hour than in the heat of the day. 

I was delighted that when we got to the lion exhibit, where Ekunda and Moxie cohabitate, they were actually up and moving about. The challenge was that they were behind glass, which has thousands of hand prints and nose prints from eager zoo-goers who want to get as close as possible. (The glass gets cleaned every night, I learned, after this tour is over.)

By putting my camera lens right up against the glass, I was able to minimize the reflection, but shooting through thick, dirty glass made everything a bit less sharp and less vibrant.

I was able to salvage some images in Lightroom, primarily by adjusting the color temperature and boosting both the blacks and the whites. Here are some shots straight out of camera and then after some cropping and post-processing.

On my way out, I spotted a Bengal tiger, not moving but awake. This cat posed another couple of photographic challenges. One: shooting through a fence, which I solved by focusing manually. And two, he was lying under a wooden structure, and I didn’t want the focus to be on his physical enclosure. Without completely eliminating the evidence that the animal was, in fact, in a zoo, I was able to crop judiciously to create an image with a focus on the subject’s face.


 Still and Moving Flora

Who can resist taking a picture of a bird of paradise in bloom? Their colors and shapes beckon me in my “Backyard Geographic” outings.

While the bright colors distinguish the bird of paradise from its background, its shape is also truly unique. To prove it to myself, I took a silhouetted shot that removed all hues, and it struck me as sculpturally stunning. (This image was backlit by a setting sun, but I was pleased by its lunar-like quality.)

As beautiful as these specimens are, I found myself wanting to do more than just document their physical appearance. It sounds corny, but I wanted to capture their essence. And to me, that was all about light, color, and movement.

To get these plants (scientific name: Strelitzia) to move, I used a slow shutter speed—between 1/8 and 1/30 of a second—and panned the handheld camera to create a motion blur.   

While the form of the plant is abstracted, it is still visible. An even slower shutter speed would have blurred the plant completely, but I like that you can still make out the original subject.  Some of the images actually look like a bird in flight.   

I tried a similar approach with the croton plant, which has a stunning array of variegated leaf colors. A straight-on sharply focused image tells the story. Adding motion blur creates rich, interesting abstracts.

And, finally, an example of a daylily in my neighbor’s front yard … a perfectly presentable photo in sharp focus, but even more interesting with a motion blur. The final image is a version of the previous one, cropped tightly to create an interesting abstract.

A Trip to the Aquarium

 

I took advantage of a nature photography event sponsored by Canon at the Waikiki Aquarium, where I hadn’t been in over a decade. 

I brought my own camera body and lenses and was able to borrow a Canon 100mm f/2.8 macro lens, as well, which allowed for some fun experimentation with close-up photography.

It’s dark inside the aquarium, and no flash is allowed. So, I needed to set my ISO pretty high (2000-3200) and rely on the artificial light in each tank. Nevertheless, I came away pleasantly surprised by what I captured. More impressive than anything I was able to do photographically, however, was the sheer beauty of the underwater creatures.

A few things I learned on the fly:

·     Fish are fast. If you don’t want each picture to be a blur, you need a shutter speed of 1/250 of a second or faster.

·     Tank lighting is brighter than the ambient lighting, so if you want people in your shot, look for interesting silhouette possibilities or illuminate your human subject with the tank lighting.

·     Glass reflects light. You’ll eliminate most of it by putting your lens directly on the glass.

If ever there were an appropriate use of the word “awesome,” this would be it. Nature at its most fabulous.

I got a lot of pleasure documenting not only these wonders of nature but also the humans’ expressions of wonder.

Cannibal Gecko

 

Stepping out to my deck, I noticed a gecko scurrying around with something in its mouth. That something turned out to be another gecko.

I grabbed my camera and proceeded to document the process of a gecko devouring another of a different species. Who knew that this green guy was the lizard version of Hannibal Lecter?

Examining my photos, I discovered that geckos have teeth. Upon doing some research, I learned that the teeth are used to grab its prey, which it then proceeds to swallow whole. 

Geckos also have the ability to grow back lost tales. It appears as if the cannibal gecko is in the process of growing back its tail; while the one being eaten seems to have lost both his head and its tail. 

My lens of choice for this spur-of-the-moment “Backyard Geographic” shoot was a Canon 70-300mm zoom.

While geckos are quite common in Hawaii (viewed with kindness and respect and almost revered), they are not native to the islands.  The Polynesians brought them to Hawaii, along with other animals and plants, around 1,500 years ago.

Crop Till It Hurts

 

I don’t remember where I first heard that advice. I think it was applied to sports photography and the impact of zooming in for maximum impact.

Purists (and photojournalists) frown on cropping after the fact.  They believe that you should do your framing in the camera and not add or modify anything in post-production. 

Not being bound by those constraints, I find that when shooting with a fixed (as opposed to a zoom) lens, I can’t always get as close to a subject as I would like; so I use the cropping tool in Lightroom to move in.  

How much to crop is purely subjective.

 (insert flamingos)

When photographing these flamingos at the zoo, I got yelled at for getting too close. But it wasn’t close enough, as far as I was concerned. So, I got closer after the fact, by eliminating some elements that didn’t enhance the image and zeroing in to create a portrait of a single flamingo.

Cropping even tighter, the image reveals the beauty of this bird’s plumage. I think it makes for a more interesting photo.

In some cases, cropping allows you to focus on the primary subject. I was fortunate to capture two Galapagos Tortoises in one image, but I thought the one in the foreground might be more impactful alone. 

 (insert tortoises)

Not a bad portrait of a single tortoise, but I was happier with the result when I cropped even more dramatically to reveal the texture of this mammal’s skin.

In some cases, like when photographing wildlife (even in a zoo), cropping allows you to view a subject in greater detail.

This is as close as I could get with my 100mm lens to EleEle, a female Siamong Gibbon at the Honolulu Zoo.

 (insert EleEle)

And here is the portrait I was able to create by cropping in tightly and opening up the shadows. It certainly helps if your subject is in sharp focus.

By the way, cropping works on human subjects, too. 

 (insert Marissa)

This horizontal shot of Marissa works well, but I prefer the version where I cropped in tight, cut off half her face, and turned it into a more interesting portrait.

Snail Male

 Knock knock. Who’s there? I open my front door and look down. It’s a pretty big snail, illuminated by our low-voltage path lights at dusk. “Just a minute,” I responded, and got my big-boy camera with a close-up lens.

Here’s what I’ve learned about Hawaii’s snails: Described as the “jewels of the forest,” many of Hawaii’s 750 species of terrestrial snails are endangered. Over 90% of the diversity has been lost.

However, I think my visitor was not native to Hawaii. Looking online, I discovered that the subject of my “Backyard Geographic” photographic encounter was probably a giant African land snail.  On the list of the 100 most harmful invasive species in the world, this guy and his friends have traveled from their native Africa to dwell on six continents (all but Antarctica).

This snail feeds on more than 500 types of plants, has a lifespan of 5-7 years, and likes to come out at night. 

Despite having shown up at my doorstep, the giant African land snail does not interact with others, even of its own species.

 

Momma Bird With Baby Chicks

Over the course of a couple of weeks, as I left my desk periodically to stretch, I watched a bird outside my office window build a nest, sit on a couple of eggs, and then feed her newborn chicks.

As it turns out, this “Backyard Geographic” narrative involved a very sexist assumption on my part. I hadn’t noticed initially that as the momma bird would fly away, another of the same species would take its place. (I thought that a single bird would sit in the nest and, when spooked by my lens, would fly away and later return.) 

What I learned from consulting the Audubon Field Guidewas that this species of bird, the red-whiskered bulbul, co-parents. They take turns incubating, and then feeding, their nestlings.

The photos I was able to capture were shot through a window screen, so I had set the camera to manual in order to focus on the birds rather than on the screen.

The red-whiskered bulbul (whose scientific name is Pycnonotus jocosus) is native to southern Asia and found in Hawaii only on the island of Oahu.

Turning the Corner

Shooting street art on buildings, I find something new every time I turn a corner. I became intrigued by the juxtaposition of one mural with another as they meet. 

This series of photographs was taken on a single afternoon in the Kaka’ako section of Honolulu, where walls as canvases are assigned to artists from Hawaii and around the world as part of the Pow!Wow! Festival that brightens the cityscape (annually since 2011).

No Photoshop here. Each image was taken from a street corner, as I tried to center the two murals and align the building’s edge vertically in my frame.

I like how two different artists, painting two different facades of the same structure, come together (or don’t) … sometimes blending, sometimes complementing, sometimes ignoring each other.