A little more than eight years ago, my work took me to Spain. On a foggy morning in early March in Salamanca, the site of the first Spanish university, I was up at dawn to get an early start for a long drive to the next destination on my agenda. A lovely fog had set in, and I took the time to stroll up the walk to the cathedral before it had time to dissipate. If you look closely, you can see a pair of storks perched near the bell tower.
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Neat! I love the fog shrouded scene anyway, and what a fun surprise the storks are.
On the day before, I saw storks all over the place. Such elegant birds, especially in flight. I should add a shot or two featuring them.
Oh yes, I’d love to see them.
Yes, I can see the storks – beautiful, ethereal image. A
It was just magical–hushed, perfectly still, and ghostly.
The tree on the right feels just a bit like an intruder. While everything else has a vertical feel — the cone-shaped trees, the cathedral — the branches from that tree are horizontal. They seem to be reaching into the photo. it’s a fun effect.
The fog’s wonderful, of course, and those storks perched on the roof are like living gargoyles. I saw my first wood storks this past week, at one of our wildlife refuges. To be frank, I had no idea they even visited Texas, but they do. I suppose I’ve missed them in the past due to avoiding the refuges in summer because of the heat. I’ll not be doing that again.
Okay, Linda, I suppose I could have taken a few more steps forward to render the intruder less intrusive. I’ll keep that in mind for my next visit (which will likely have to be in my next incarnation). But, upon reflection, I do remember analyzing the scene and setting up my tripod quite carefully (as I did not have unlimited time to pamper my creativity) and decided to include its left-stretching arms to balance out the Lombardi poplars (I think that’s what they were) at the left of the image. I sense that your choice of “fun” to describe the effect of its inclusion is admirably diplomatic, but I can take the constructive criticism and, in fact encourage it enthusiastically. Bring it on!
But it wasn’t criticism at all. I pay no attention at all to what I gather are “rules” of photography. I only notice and report on the things that I think are interesting. Personally, I love the intersection of vertical and horizontal.
Add: And I don’t want to be a photography critic. There are plenty of those around. I just want to enjoy good photographs, the emotions they evoke in me, and the stories that I tell myself about them. For example: the tree on the right as a tree gone rogue, reaching into that well ordered universe to wreak havoc through unrestrained horizontalism. Etc. :-)
Hey, I wasn’t taking it as a criticism at all–much to the contrary, in fact. I often find myself hesitating to include my own perspective on how I would have processed a photo published by a fellow blogger, and since I respect the thinking behind each other’s images, I feel better when I forge ahead and express my thoughts. I am more than happy to hear your takes on how you perceive my images–that’s one of the reasons that I follow you. Too few of us feel comfortable with expressing our feelings and initiating a thoughtful dialogue. I’m glad that you belong to the minority of those of us who do. And, to my mind, there are no rules.
I was thinking about that tree and then read Linda’s comment. I don’t mind the tree at all, but might have made a step or two to the left to have less or none at all crossing the Cathedral, but as you mentioned setting up carefully I say that with a grain of Salamancan salt, so to speak.
I see the storks also. Hopefully they weren’t there to drop a bundle of joy down the bell tower.
I appreciate your well-seasoned comments on the composition, as I do Linda’s. If I had had more time, I might also have done a more varied series of studies. But I didn’t have that luxury. The storks were everywhere; I’m actually rather surprised that there were only two to be seen on this misty morn. I see that I should do a storky follow-up.