My macro lens and my camera don’t like each other, and my job as “The Photographer” is to try to resolve the differences these two pieces of equipment have with one-another.
On the face of it, macro (close-up) photography seems very easy. Viewed through my camera and lens, dew drops on a blade of grass or the veins running through a brightly-colored autumn leaf just scream to be photographed--until the camera and the lens start their bickering. The conflict goes something like this:
--Photographer (me): “I found this great leaf, kind of decayed but still with autumn color in it. I think it’ll make a cool macro photograph. I want every vein of the leaf to be in focus.”
--Lens: “That’s fine, I can make everything sharp. Set me at f22.”
--Camera: “Okay, if Lens wants f22, then I want a shutter speed of two seconds.”
(Enter an uninvited guest: Mr. Winter Wind. He blows the beautiful leaf around during the two-second exposure, making the image appear blurry--not cool blurry, but out-of-focus-looking blurry.)
--Lens: “Not my fault. Mister Photographer said he wanted everything in focus.”
--Camera: “Not my fault either. The light meter inside me says I needed a two-second exposure.”
--Photographer: “Lens! Camera! STOP your yelling! I’m trying to remember the Photographer’s Prayer that is supposed to stop the freaking wind!”
I mumble a few words. I hope I’ve said the right damn prayer.
Lens, Camera and I wait. And we wait. And we wait.
Finally, it seems like Winter Winter has died-down for a moment. The beautiful leaf is motionless. The Photographer (me) fires the camera.
I hold my breath for the two seconds the shutter is open, praying (again) that nothing goes wrong.
--Lens: “Check it out. Every vein in focus.”
--Camera: “Lens, you always think the image is about YOU, but you’re NOTHING without ME.”
--Winter Wind: “Boys, there’s a new sheriff in town. From now on, you all are going to have to learn to play by MY rules.”
--Photographer: (I babble incoherently, as if possessed by demons.)
