About midnight to 12:30 or so.
66 light exposures, 30 seconds each, 12mm, f/2.8, ISO 100, and 2 dark frames (same settings but taken with the lens cap on). The light on the tree came from my neighbour’s house lights.
Part-time prevaricator
About midnight to 12:30 or so.
66 light exposures, 30 seconds each, 12mm, f/2.8, ISO 100, and 2 dark frames (same settings but taken with the lens cap on). The light on the tree came from my neighbour’s house lights.
We’ve been watching episodes of a PBS show called My Grandparents’ War, where celebs like Helena Bonham Carter and Kristin Scott Thomas trace the histories of their grandparents’ experience in WWII. Tonight we saw one featuring Mark Rylance, and there were a couple quotes that stuck out to me. I wanted to record them before I forget them.
Mark Rylance, walking in a cemetery for war dead in Hong Kong (where, but for the grace of God / random chance, his grandfather might well have ended up), mused that he keeps hearing people talking dispassionately about war, as though it’s some kind of natural event. But, he pointed out, war is fought by people. Just people, like you and me.
Later, he met with a Japanese historian who has studied the POW camps that the Japanese ran in Hong Kong. He asked her why she chose to study the camps—a heavy question, considering some of the atrocities that had been explored earlier in the episode. She responded, “History doesn’t repeat itself. People repeat it.”
Just people, like you and me. Let’s be careful, OK?
Top image: 19-image Brenizer panorama, because apparently I like making my computer fan earn its keep.
Below: near, or far?


Top image: 19-image Brenizer panorama. Images were 55mm f/4, giving an effective final shot at 35mm f/2.5.
Sighted on my bike ride. (In fairness it didn’t look quite that dramatic in real life.)
The sky was that weird evening colour that could be perfectly clear or could be a solid wall of cloud. But the moon showed me it wasn’t cloud.
The 1st Street bridge, specifically.
20-image panorama, each 24mm f/2.8 1/250 sec., assembled in Hugin.
Also, there’s a slightly different crop on Instagram.
I found this little guy walking very slowly—like, look-up-torpor-in-the-dictionary slowly—on the cold concrete floor in my basement. I helped him outside where he could sit in the sun and warm up. About ten minutes later, when I checked, he’d flown off.


I took a stab a re-editing a photo of the aurora I took in 2016. It’s a lot more dramatic now. What do you think?