
Nikon D200 + Nikkor 17-55 f/2.8 @ 34mm — 1/750 sec, f/2.8, ISO 250, P.P. boost: +0.55EV — map & image data — nearby photos
Baby Brother
I love the little sprig of blossoms nestled in the bark of the tree.
I thought I'd post some more photos from the really pleasant visit I had to the Yodogawa Kasen Park a month ago, at the start of the cherry blossom season.
If you'll recall, it's a mile-long raised berm with a path in the middle, lined with hundreds of flowering (but not fruiting) cherry trees.

Nikon D200 + Nikkor 17-55 f/2.8 @ 55mm — 1/250 sec, f/7.1, ISO 250 — map & image data — nearby photos
The area to either side has pathways as well, and eventually rivers (it's at a spot where three rivers come together). I wouldn't be surprised if the lower areas flood during the rainy seasons.
I went on a weekday well before peak blossoms, so it was generally uncrowded. Sometimes you strolled with others....
... and sometimes you had the place pretty much to yourself:

Nikon D200 + Nikkor 17-55 f/2.8 @ 18mm — 1/125 sec, f/7.1, ISO 250 — map & image data — nearby photos
The little plaque on the tree (shown again at right) is an augmented version of the little plaques one finds on a lot of plant life in Japanese public parks, identifying the name or species of plant. The title says “Somei Yoshino,” which could also be written 染井吉野 and means “Yoshino cherry tree.”
Then it says Rosaceae (which is a word I don't even know in English, but the meaning is clear from the Japanese: “rose family.”)
Then it describes....
The trees whose cherry blossoms you're enjoying now are for the most the same as this tree. They spread from Edo's “Somei Village” (now Tokyo's Toshima Ward) and hence the name.
Edo is the old name for the Tokyo region (for the millennium or so until 1868). The “Somei” is written as 染井, the first part of the tree's name. These days, that Toshima Ward area seems to be a concrete jungle, so I'm glad the trees made it here (and all over Japan, apparently).
Here's another sign I noticed:
It says “Beware of Mamushi,” which is not very helpful if you don't know what “Mamushi” is, which I didn't. Luckily, I must be clairvoyant because I somehow magically understood the meaning nevertheless. 🙂
Mamushi is a type of pit viper whose venomous bite can be fatal, and as such, bewaring of them is probably good advice.
I didn't see any snakes, but did see this ferocious beast in a field of flowers down the hill from the berm:

Nikon D200 + Nikkor 17-55 f/2.8 @ 55mm — 1/1250 sec, f/2.8, ISO 250 — map & image data — nearby photos
The Flowers Were Enjoyed by All
It was extremely hazy, but I felt an obligation to take a picture of the bullet train running by half a kilometer away.

Nikon D200 + Nikkor 17-55 f/2.8 @ 55mm — 1/250 sec, f/7.1, ISO 250 — map & image data — nearby photos
Obligatory Bullet-Train-and-Cherry-Blossoms Picture
By the way, I should fess up that I added the blue sky to the 2nd photo in this post. It was so hazy that any picture with sky turned out horrible (like the bullet-train one above). Of course, while visiting, one's attention tends to gravitate to the cherry blossoms and is encouraged toward pleasantness by the lovely breeze, the nice smells, etc., but none of that shows up in the picture. So, lacking the blue sky that would have added so much had it been there, I added it.
I didn't mention it until now so that you would have a chance to see the picture without knowing that the sky was faked. Once you know it, it looks, well, fake. I hope my artistic license is not revoked.

Nikon D200 + Nikkor 70-200mm f/2.8 @ 200mm — 1/750 sec, f/4, ISO 250 — map & image data — nearby photos
Heian Shrine From Afar
As Nils suggested the other day, I visited the hiking trails behind the Westin Miyako Kyoto Hotel today. The trails are extremely simple (with mild stairs the whole way), and because it's all shaded, it was substantially less strenuous than moving around inside the gardens at the water treatment plant of recent posts.
I brought Anthony with me, and it was thoroughly enjoyable for both of us. (It was much better than when I bought him on a multi-kilometer, much more difficult hike up the Daimonji Mountain last December, where I had to carry him most of the way. Sigh, I still haven't gotten around to posting any photos from that trip, despite having some great ones. Well, I did use one photo from it on my post about my calendar-building Photoshop script.)
[ Update: posts about that hike are here, here, here, here, and here. ]
Today's outing was pleasant, but I was just a bit disappointed that I couldn't see my building, nor could I see anything toward my way from the top (which isn't that high — it's just a big hill — rising only 120m higher in elevation than my place). Still, I got some okay shots like the one above, from a little clearing at the 90m-higher-in-eleveation level.
The building in the center, which is the main building of the Heian Shrine, is about 1.2 km (3/4 mile) away. To give a sense of scale, the smaller orange building to the left is the shrine's entrance gate, which despite looking fairly small in the picture, is quite big itself. The very lowest portion that building has what looks like stilts in the picture above, are huge columns in this picture from a previous post:
You can also see that gate building in one of my older posts that I'm particularly proud of, about Photoshop and Japanese New-Year's Cards.
(For additional reference, because I'm a geek and I love the way distance is compressed in shots like this, the large cream building at the top of the frame, just right of center, is 3km (1.9 miles) away.)

I've come to the conclusion that as a general rule, photographers are horrible writers. I haven't surveyed an overwhelming number of books on photography, but most I've seen range from “pretty bad” to, well, the most poorly-written book I've ever seen, on any subject (Bryan Peterson's “Understanding Exposure”). The only well-written book I've seen on photography is Stephen Johnson's On Digital Photography.
The reason for this, almost certainly, is that these photographers are missing one of the two wholly unrelated skills that non-fiction writing demands. They know what to present because they have knowledge of the subject matter, but they lack the other skill — good writing — so they don't know how to present it. People perhaps often think that knowledge of the subject matter is the more important skill, but except for highly advanced texts, knowing how to present what you do know is much more important.
My high-school German teacher, Doug Mori (“Mr. Mori” to me, of course), didn't speak German with native-speaker fluency, and being the football coach had a certain obnoxiousness to his presence, but he was an excellent teacher and after one year of his class I could actually converse in German far Far Far more than I could after two years of Spanish from the more linguistically advanced Mr. Speece.
Anyway, back to writing, in one sense it's not the photographer-turned-author's fault, because one normally wouldn't expect an excellent photographer to necessarily be an excellent writer, and it's surprisingly difficult for a bad writers to recognize their own work as such. However, I do expect publishers to realize when the photographer is not a good writer and either fix it, or cancel the project. Sadly, that doesn't seem to be happening.
Here's an example from Alain Briot's Mastering Landscape Photography that I've been perusing lately. There are some nice sections, and the composition exercises he suggests look to be helpful, but to find these gems one has to wade through linear inch after linear inch of abject drivel. Consider his Chapter 4, titled “How to Find the Best Light for a Specific Photograph.” This is an interesting and important subject that one could write a whole book about, but one's expectations for the chapter take a huge hit after seeing the first sentence:
Light, from the earliest time recorded in history, has played a role of great importance in human culture and existence.
Ugh.
He then goes on to talk about light with respect to the bible, Incas, King Louis XIV of France, blah blah blah. “Time and again, light has been part of the most important aspects of our lives,...” Drivel!
It only gets worse. Later, after a full page of this blather, we are treated to this:
Scott McLeay, my first photography teacher, often said that if we were to walk into a closet, close the door behind us, set up our camera on a tripod and proceed to take a time exposure, we would not get a photograph regardless of how long the exposure time is. We can expose for hours, days or months and get nothing on film or on our digital file.
The fact is that light is required to create a photographic image. We may not need much light, but we need some light. In a dark closet, even with a multi-hour exposure, we will not get a photograph because there is no light whatsoever. The first thing a photographer needs, besides a camera, film, and a lens, is light. Photographers are images made with light. Without light there can be no photographs.
Wow..... you mean light is actually required to take a photograph?
Sigh.... how can a book teach anything if the reader has to wade through crap like this?
I've only just started looking at this book, but it seems clear that the author knows photography from experience, which is perhaps the best way to know photography; his photographs are excellent. But one must understand more deeply the whys if they hope to pass along that experience in a book. For example, in talking about reflected light, he says “If the light is reflected, the light will take on the color of the reflective surface on which it bounces.”
Uh, no, it doesn't “take on the color” — it is that color. Light reflected from a purple flower doesn't take on a purplish cast, it is purple. I mean, geez, how else would our eyes see it as purple?
(Pedantically, I shouldn't say that light is a color, because electromagnetic energy doesn't become a color until sensed by something such as our eyes, but that's perhaps too pedantic to be useful here.)
His whole section on “types of light” just smacks of this kind of wishy-washiness throughout. I hold hope for the rest of the book because personally, I'm reading it for its artistic side, so I can forgive its technical failings. I just wish I didn't have to.
What publishers should do is pair up a great photographer with a great writer. When you see a book that's by such and such a person, with someone else, that's what's happening, and the result is usually excellent, combining the subject knowledge of the “by” person with the writing skills of the “with” person. A great example of this from my own bookshelf, although on a different subject, is the 1989 bestseller One up on Wall Street, which is by Peter Lynch (famous and smart mutual-fund manager) with John Rothchild (apparently, an excellent writer).
I'd love to write a book on Photography some day (once I get enough skill in the photographic department), and my dream is that the cover would look something like the image above. The most important part of it (besides the “by” with my name, of course) is the subsequent “with Bill Bryson”. That would just rock.
We awoke today to find that Anthony had prepared a lavish feast for George.

Nikon D200 + Nikkor 70-200mm f/2.8 @ 200mm — 1/200 sec, f/7.1, ISO 250 — map & image data — nearby photos
Sunset over Southern Hokkaido
Sunset photo taken handheld on a gently rocking car ferry off the coast of
Hokkaido, Japan. The mountain peak to the left is about 25km (16 miles)
away (with the sun being a bit further away than that
)
For sun pictures, I still think my Malaysian Sunrise is my favorite.




