Tarmac ribbons criss-crossing the landscape, dusty back roads twisting between the cool shadows of ancient pines, and less traveled pathways connecting present to past, all I wander, seeking, seeing, with my keyboard and camera capturing scenes and stories to share with you.

Now in its fifth year, this venue has become an important part of my life, a place where I can express my thoughts and feelings about the things I see and do, hoping the process brings me a bit closer to friends and family who enjoy sharing my sometimes chaotic and often nonlinear observations and ideas. A journal, I suppose, but one with which I find pleasure in thinking others are alongside me on my journey.

January 17, 2016

WIRE BRIDGE THERAPY

... i was down, my usually well-controlled seasonal affective disorder stimulated by some recent negative news, so i sent a little note to john, "would you like to go out for a couple of hours and see if we can find some pictures" ... i'm sure he was able to decipher the hidden part of my message, and he responded immediately, which if you're looking is as good as you'll every find for a definition of friendship ... 

... we wandered up to the wire bridge in north new portland ... the carrabassett was open, but large chunks of ice scattered along the shore were evidence that last week's unseasonal torrential rain had flooded away the upstream ice floes ...

... blue sky, temperature hovering right at freezing, no wind, it was a beautiful day ...

... at my feet, autumn in peaceful repose ...

... john snapped a picture of me ...

... i captured an image of him as he photographed the upstream view ...

... walking across the bridge deck, i paused to admire the crystal warmth of the sunlight reflecting off the waters below, and, in that moment, i ceased to be lost ... 

... over one-hundred fifty years old, the bridge's patient cable anchors served me reminder of things of which i needed reminding ...

An old man going a lone highway,
Came, at the evening cold and gray,
To a chasm vast and deep and wide.
Through which was flowing a sullen tide
The old man crossed in the twilight dim,
The sullen stream had no fear for him;
But he turned when safe on the other side
And built a bridge to span the tide.

“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim near,
“You are wasting your strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day,
You never again will pass this way;
You’ve crossed the chasm, deep and wide,
Why build this bridge at evening tide?”

The builder lifted his old gray head;
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followed after me to-day
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm that has been as naught to me
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be;
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him!”

WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE

MOST FASCINATING

... this is my fuji x-t1 ... the little iridescent rectangle is the camera's CMOS (Complementary Metal–Oxide–Semiconductor) image sensor, which serves the same function as film did in the olden days ... this particular APSC-sized sensor, produced by sony, is 9/10"x6/10" (similar to the now ancient "half-frame" 35mm format) ...
... the fuji's sensor has 16,700,000 tiny little cameras imbedded upon its surface ... each of these little units will record a single point, or "pixel," of the overall image ... this is akin to an artist producing a picture by placing many tiny dots of paint on a canvas rather than using brush strokes, as in this sample of pointillism from paul signac's 1892 femmes au puits ...

... the size of each of these little CMOS sensors determines the ultimate "sharpness" of the pictures which can be produced ... avoiding the technical, a 16-megapixel sensor camera with a modern lens will record images at least equal in sharpness to any my father could produce using his beloved petri flex v ...

... now to the absolutely fascinating part of all this ...

... each of those teensy-tiny little CMOS sensors looks like this ...

... this is what they look like under a microscope ...


... how tiny are they ... ??? ... well, you must've figured that they must be extremely small, since 16,700,000 of them fit on a surface not much larger than a postage stamp ...

... it would take 20 of them side-by-side to equal the thickness of a human hair ...

... to give you an idea of their minuscule size, image that each of the sensors is one-inch square ... if they were this big, then the camera's CMOS sensor would cover almost 2-1/2 acres, or, including the end zones and sidelines, approximately two football fields ... !!! ...

... if you could shrink eight flat-screen hd tv sets down so that they all fit on your thumb you'd have a 16-megapixel CMOS sensor ... !!! ...

... fascinating ...

... absolutely fascinating ...

... and, of course, this has virtually nothing to do with taking a good pictures ...