Along Sourdough Trail

The image above is my favorite from a series taken from the same position, but with depth of field varied using apertures from f/5.6 to f/16. Below is most of the set, with f/8 left out to enable easier comparison of f/11 with either extreme).

The f/11 version seems to me to have the right balance (or tension) between the two saplings as principal subject and the similar shapes in the background. The latter draw the eye much more than with f/5.6, but still leave the central pair dominant. I find f/5.6 over-emphasizes the isolation of the pair from the surroundings, while f/16 gives too little separation, making the image feel too complex and confusing. In general, I like complexity, but complexity with structure.

Be that as it may, I think the main point here is that changing depth of field changes the message. As I commented in discussion on Art and Perception

What I “want to say” is not so clear yet, which is why I chose this image to illustrate the issue. Or rather, I want to say both that here’s an interesting pair of saplings entangling and they’re here entangled in an interesting patch of woods.

At the time I made the photograph, I was thinking of the saplings as purely visual elements, whose relationship I adjusted by the camera position. It wasn’t until processing at the computer that the allusion to human figures embracing occurred to me. This fits right in with recent musings at A&P on the subliminal significance of the figure.

Water is endlessly fascinating, like fire, especially when moving. It’s an overall impression and the sense of movement that we perceive; it’s impossible to capture and contemplate the instantaneous form of the water surface. That’s precisely what a camera can allow us to do, of course.

The result is an image that, because of its stillness, fascinates by pulling me in to examine those amazing squiggles. This is the leisurely appreciation denied me by the original subject.

The closer I look, the more compelling it becomes. The only limit is the resolution of my camera sensor. And even that is a pretty soft limit, since this sort of image can look good even soft.

These elegant patterns appear as decoration of the surface, but in fact they are reflections of branches, cloud, and sky. In what sense is this a photograph of water?