Cemeteries & Fungi

When I sold my 60D, I felt strange.  It had been my companion for so long and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d made the right choice.  Was I going to be happy with my little OM-D?  Only time would tell.  On the up side, my selling the 60D had freed up some funds for the one thing my OM-D was lacking: a good lens.  Or two.

There are dozens of choices when it comes to lenses for this little camera so it took me a while to narrow down my options, but I eventually settled on two prime lenses: the 17mm f1.8 and the 45mm f1.8.  (With a prime lens, zooming is provided by your own movement either towards or away from the subject of your photographic gaze.)  I loved the 17mm lens straight away and I’ve been using it for photos of my op shop finds and my handknitted goodies.  The 45mm lens, though… I didn’t feel the love.  But this is exactly what happened with my 50mm lens on my 60D: all I needed to do was force myself to use the lens until I worked out what it was best at.

I finally had a chance to do that when I visited the parents in Beechworth recently.

Catching Up

My current theory on the passage of time goes a little like this: it waits until we’re not looking and then suddenly speeds up.  It sneaks through a minute here and there, or perhaps a half hour or more if we’re really distracted.  And it all adds up.  I’ve been trying to grab hold of time and make the most of it all year and it’s been a dismal failure so far.

It seems when it comes to freezing time, the best tool is my camera.  It doesn’t really help much when I’m trying to knit a million things in the course of a week, but it does help with capturing moments that are gone soon afterwards.  Take this little fungi scene, for example: