Skip to main content

playing with my camera

This afternoon, instead of doing what I should have been doing, I pulled out my camera to capture the fun my kids were having. The weather was an amazing 73 degrees! I know it won't last, so I snatched up the chance for some photos.




I will say this: I know nothing about photography. I wish I did. I love taking pictures and looking at pictures. There is something so wonderful about capturing a moment just as you see it. So, mustering up some courage, I moved the little dial thingy from "auto" to "manual" and started shooting and changing settings.


 This was on the auto setting. The colors were washed out and dull.

Still on auto setting. Dull, dull, dull.
 Look at the difference! I can't tell you what I set it to. I just moved the dial until it looked like what I saw with my eyes.

Then I accidentally found this!

I took about 50 pictures just so I could get one this good.
I love this one so much.
Back inside, I experimented some more.

Dinner before it went in the oven to be roasted.
 Back on auto setting. Too yellow.
Manual setting, much truer to the colors in my kitchen. No flash, even though it was dark outside.

Until I can afford a more professional camera, I will practice with my point and shoot and hopefully learn a little along the way!



Comments

  1. Your kids are adorable!!
    Love your pictures...wish I could get a really expensive camera and take a class on how to work it!!

    I always use Auto...might have to try to experiment, I have tried black and white.

    I didn't know how brussel sprouts grew...Are those from your garden?

    ReplyDelete
  2. I did not grow those brussel sprouts, though I did try one year.
    I would like to take a photography class too.

    ReplyDelete
  3. You are rocking it!!! These pics are great! I am always trying new things. I never feel like I'm getting the right shot...a lot of times the colors don't match exactly what I see...but I'm figuring it out slowly but surely. =)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Door Table

Once there was a store in Georgia. It is no more, but how I wish it was. I likened going in there to treasure hunting. One never knew what was going to be in there, and you had to dig through and wade through all the "other people's treasures" to find your own. I once found a set of blue and white teacups and saucers from England. I found lace handkerchiefs, a rocking chair, and an end table. But by far the best find was my kitchen table. I had stopped by one day while the kids were taking horseback lessons and the then little ones were asleep. The store was not open, but I went up to the window to see if anything new was there. And it was there. The table. And six chairs too! We were in need of a bigger table with Jack on the way. My mom had offered to give us her old one, which I was going to accept if I didn't find something I liked better. I didn't want anyone else to even see the table because I knew it was supposed to be ours, but one can never tell abo

Fog and faith

 I stepped out into the coolness of the November morning to start the car and defog the windows, preparing to take Jack to school. Daylight had yet to appear. As we drove the many miles, the sky lightened, and we could see the mist hanging out just above the grass. We usually listen to a story together on our drive, adding commentary, exchanging a knowing glance or a shocked expression as the twists and turns unfold. I relish this time with Jack. I know that all too soon he will be preparing to leave the nest, like his sisters before him.  On the drive back, I pull my rosary from my purse and pray. By this time, the sun is just about to appear, making the sky a beautiful orange-pink on the horizon. I am pondering much as I pray, for the path I am on is once again rocky and uncertain. Such is life, whether we have faith or not. Faith makes it bearable. For the most part, the road home is a straight shot and I can see the ribbon of road laid out before me, narrowing in the distance. The

A Tale of a Tail (or the excitement of the day)

 First of all, I doubt anyone still checks this little old neglected blog, so I am probably talking to myself right now. But if by chance, there is still someone out there, I will tell the tale of the tail I came to tell. As little boys are apt to do, Peter left his rainboots outside on the front porch several days ago. As they do not add to the decor on the porch, I decided to bring them inside this morning and I put them by the back door, where they belong. There they sat, until the mail truck came by and tucked our mail into the box. I may or may not have mentioned that our property is surrounded by a moat during the rainy days. There is no going to collect the mail without rain boots. Seeing how Peter was supposed to be doing his math lesson, of course he eagerly volunteered to go get the mail. He hopped up from the table and went to put on his boots. The scream that came from him made me leave my seat! I thought he had hurt himself. He claimed there was a roach in his boot. I pick