Raptor vs. Tiger

Raptors vs. The World #4
vs. Elephant | vs. Sheep | vs. Pig | vs. Tiger | vs. Turtle

Natalia strolled along the river, quite happy with how things were coming together. He thought he was so clever, sticking to the shadows outside her periphery. What a novice. She'd caught his scent right from the start, and heard him not long after. She had a knack for knowing when someone was on her tail.

She didn't acknowledge his presence — no reason to spook him. It would be far more fun if he believed he had the upper hand right till the last moment. She slowed her gait, then paused at the side of the river and dangled her toes in.

It wouldn't be long now. Natalia could sense him slipping out of the shadows, drawing ever closer. She purred in anticipation. Almost there. Almost...

~~~~~

Now try this: Read the story again, but this time ignore the photo. That is, think of the characters as people, not animals. (It's interesting how much a single image can change your perception of a story, isn't it?)

Raptor vs. Pig

Raptors vs. The World #3
vs. Elephant | vs. Sheep | vs. Pig | vs. Tiger | vs. Turtle

Larry was used to being picked on. He'd always been a bit on the heavy side, and his pale skin burned easily in the sun. This was his secret place, where he could come to escape others' judgment for a few hours.

He was sure he'd done the right thing today. The moral thing. But still, if they found out he was the one who'd squealed, they'd rip into him good. The whole business stank to high heaven, but at least now his conscience was clean. He'd hole up here till the uproar died down. No one else knew about this spot. Here, he was safe.

~~~~~

Now try this: Read the story again, but this time ignore the photo. That is, think of the characters as people, not animals. (It's interesting how much a single image can change your perception of a story, isn't it?)

Raptor vs. Sheep

Raptors vs. The World #2
vs. Elephant | vs. Sheep | vs. Pig | vs. Tiger | vs. Turtle

Maribel had never strayed far from the farm. Truth be told, she'd never had reason to. The farm had everything she needed, and she loved nothing more than running through the fields with her older brothers and sisters. Nevertheless, as she grew older, she began to wonder what else was out there, beyond the white fences that marked the edge of the property. One afternoon, she slipped away from her siblings and ventured off on her own.

Almost immediately, she got lost. Back home she knew all the landmarks, but once she'd passed the white fence, nothing would stick in her mind. Each bush, each field looked like every other. As dusk fell and the air grew colder, she berated herself for being so impulsive. She never should have gone out on her own. And now, with the light fading, she'd never find her way back. Sure, her thick coat would keep her warm overnight, but being alone out here for so long was the most frightening thing she could imagine. Maribel had just about given up all hope when she heard faint footsteps behind her. She stopped crying and lifted up her head.

Finally! Someone to help her find her way home.

~~~~~

Now try this: Read the story again, but this time ignore the photo. That is, think of the characters as people, not animals. (It's interesting how much a single image can change your perception of a story, isn't it?)

Raptor vs. Elephant

Raptors vs. The World #1
vs. Elephant | vs. Sheep | vs. Pig | vs. Tiger | vs. Turtle

Winston peered out across the plain. A warm breeze caressed his back and neck. Yep, this place would do nicely. Apart from a couple trees, it was nothing but flat earth in all directions. Dust and dry grass. Sparse shrubbery, but none higher than his knees. There was safety in such desolation. Any approach, any angle, and Winston would see it coming a mile away.

And yet, he couldn't quite shake the feeling he was being watched.

~~~~~

Now try this: Read the story again, but this time ignore the photo. That is, think of the characters as people, not animals. (It's interesting how much a single image can change your perception of a story, isn't it?)

Eight Crazy Nates

(click to view full-size)

This photo was inspired by a few my cousin created last year. For reference, I also considered calling it "Eight Men Out," "Eight Is (More Than) Enough," or "Hot Damn, Feet Freeze Fast When You're Barefoot in the Snow." (I was barefoot for about two minutes at the end of the shoot, enough for four back-and-forth trips to the camera — three takes, followed by the retrieval of my equipment.)

This is just a hunch, but I suspect it's much easier to do this type of shot indoors, with fixed lighting and non-freezing temperatures. Though of course that way you don't get nearly the same sort of looks from the neighbors.

The final tally:
26 - degrees Fahrenheit (-3.3 degrees Celsius)
10 - hours before all pain subsided from my toes
9 - photographs layered into one
8 - Nates
7 - visible goatees
6 - pairs of pants
5 - hats
4 - shirts
3 - jackets
2 - sweatshirts
1 - pair of shorts
0 - footprints

Not Getting the Full Experience

This is my 300th post (fact). And since I haven't shared anything about my son in over a year (exaggeration) I thought I'd do that now to start the year off right. Not only is he the smartest kid ever to wear diapers (hyperbole) and a half-decent negotiator, but come February he'll be the youngest U.S. Senator in history (outright lie).

He just turned two-and-a-half, loves animals and books and letters and Muppets and is so well-behaved my cousin remarked that as parents we're "not getting the full experience." No, we're not. And it is awesome. Here are a few snippets from recent months:

Conversation at dinner between 2-year-olds (who had spent all day together):
Him: "Hey, you have a robot on your shirt."
His cousin: "I have pizza." (pause) "I have pizza."
~~~~~
Reading an alphabet book to himself:
"J is for juggling. J-U-G-G-L-I-N-G. Juggling.
K is for kite. K-I-T-E. Kite.
L is for drink. L-E-M-O-N-A-D-E. Drink."
~~~~~
At some point he found a 2-foot piece of string. Every once in a while, he'll pick it up, hold it between his hands, and twirl it while jumping non-stop from room to room. As he says, "I'm jumping rope."
~~~~~
Talking into a toy phone:
"Hi, Grampa. Are you too busy? Okay, bye bye."

Our house contains several burrows' worth of stuffed rabbits. One morning, my son dug through a couple dozen of them and found the only non-bunny in the basket — a small stuffed bison — and immediately claimed it as his own. They were inseparable for a week, including at bedtime, so it became the first thing he slept with. The following week he added a lion cub to the mix. The week after that, a dog. Then Cookie Monster. Now his bed also holds a rubber skeleton, a bookmark with clownfish on it, a long-expired glow stick, an alligator puppet with hard rubber teeth, a seal, a small plastic Oscar the Grouch, and a little striped cat from IKEA. Every night and naptime he confirms each item is still there, gathers them all under the blanket, and hugs them tight.

If you ask him, he'll say he loves our cats Penny and Schrödinger. But not our dog, Sonya. Last time he told us this we asked, "Why not? Sonya loves you." The tears started flowing, and he wailed, "I don't want to love Sonya!!!"
~~~~~
He finally knows to say "I don't know," meaning we've reached the end of his Yeah Phase. What was the Yeah Phase? Let me demonstrate:
"Do you know what this is?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, what is it?"
"Yeah."
"What is it?"
"Yeah."
~~~~~
He wanted a cookie. We'd told him repeatedly he needed to eat his dinner first. He responded with, "No. Cookie first, then dinner." This went on all meal, and he ate one solitary bite of pasta. After Denise had finished and stepped into the kitchen, he handed me his plate and said, "Here. You eat it. I get a cookie." I tell you, the kid is quick. I didn't learn that gambit till I was six.

I often have his stuffed animals and puppets talk to him. Then one night, with a puppet in his hand, he asked me to read him his book. I pulled out the book with his picture on the cover (and photos of our family inside), but he said, "No, my book." He repeated this over and over, getting more and more agitated, until I finally realized he was speaking as the puppet (who has no mouth) and asking for its book. Namely, Where the Wild Things Are.

Now he regularly talks for his animals/puppets and has conversations with them. He even has a designated puppet voice, lower and more gravelly than his own.¹ And he uses his mittens as puppets.² Or, if he has no puppet or mittens, he simply talks with his hands.

¹ He's Batman.
² Lately, his left mitten is a shark, his right one a train. Because of this.

~~~~~

Well, that's my son. Click on any of the above photos to see them larger. Or, if you're inclined, you can view all of his latest photos on Flickr.

Have Yourself a Very Little Christmas

I have now celebrated the Coming of Claus for six years (going on seven). I've had my macro lens¹ for the past three.

I figure, most people focus on the big things at Christmas — the giant tree, huge gifts, a jumbo ham or turkey — but we shouldn't forget the little things that make the holiday what it is.

So, to get everyone primed for Santa's Glorious Gift-Giving Extravaganza™, here's a selection of ornaments and decorations I've photographed from mere inches away. The smallest of the bunch (i.e. the pink bunny slippers) are only ¼" high, and most only show 1-2" max.

You can click on an image to embiggen. Or if you're interested, you can view the entire Flickr set (44 photos).

¹ A macro lens allows you to take pictures from reeeeeally close up. You can capture very fine detail on very small things. Unless those very small things are part of larger things that want to lick you, claw you, or push the camera button. Then it becomes significantly more difficult. (Also wet, bloody, or whiny).