“Did you sort out that lens?” asked Grant as we fed our little darlings this morning.
Lucy was a little impatient as I fiddled with the camera:
“Stop messing about”, she said!
My answer to Grant was “no”, to Lucy “yes, alright, alright”, as I continued taking pictures.
No, I haven’t mastered it yet but there seems to be a marginal improvement in the bottom two ladybirds from a photographic point of view, that is, given that the one on the right was actually lifeless. I am trying to master a macro lens with the notion of capturing wee insects when they arrive this summer. I saw somewhere that this year the “Brood X” cicadas will be with us for their once-every-seventeen years mating spree. That should be fun.
The smallest creatures I had to practice on at the moment were ladybirds or ladybugs as they seem to be called here.
At times the house is full of them, but typically, where’s a ladybird when you need one? I would have preferred a live specimen.
Since I was a child, when my mother used to sing the ladybird song to me, I’ve always been fond of them and always wanted to care for them.
Which is why I obtained this book that talks about all sorts of animals, but doesn’t tell me a thing about ladybirds.
Apparently the author’s mother was a ladybug-rescuer, which is where she got her passion for animals.
When we were wondering how to help our tiny friends one day I remembered the book and went to fetch it.
Now I know why I never read it. No ladybird info, but a selection of inspiring but heart-rending animal stories.
I knew I’d never get through the first chapter.
Human beings do the most ghastly, thoughtless things to creatures that have no defense. I am no longer able to read these stories.
In the meantime we just put ladybirds right side up and Grant puts them in a flat bowl with wet paper towel as he says they are always thirsty.
The bowl goes on top of a kitchen cupboard out of cat reach, in theory.
However this morning I wasn’t using the macro lens. I was mesmerized, as is so often the case, by the changing light:
After last night’s water-colour sky:
The sun finally struggled above the brooding clouds:
Each time I looked, the scene was different:
Then another hill lit up:
Next I went to check on the remains of my ice couple:
January’s head was off and he looked a shattered mess
Whereas delicate February was still standing like a wind-blown stone formation
January deserved a new head, which made him look like the Sphinx and I left them to melt in peace.
Turning to see that the benign clouds of 0800
…had morphed in five short minutes!
But the morning came good, sunny and bright.
I wish I could capture for you the sound of the wind in the trees…