Unusual Lens

Several years ago now a retired co-worker came into my office with a giant lens, not like any I’d ever seen before. He handed it to me and explained it was an old TV camera lens. He asked if I wanted it, and despite not having any way of using it, I knew I had to have it, so I accepted his offer.

The lens, a Schneider Varigon 17-170mm from the 1960’s, sat on my shelf for while. I thought that I might use it for some Franken-camera made out of a cardboard box or something, but I told one of my brothers, who has a 3D printer, about it, and he started designing an adapter to mount it to my DSLR.

Once he got it done, the lens still sat for months. I knew before the adapter got finished that there was no way it could cover a full frame camera, as it was made for 16mm film, so I knew there would be vignetting. I also didn’t know (still don’t) the distance it needed in order for it to focus properly, so I had no idea what to really expect. When I got the lens in my hand and mounted it to my camera, it was a very pleasant surprise. There was heavy vignetting, especially at when the lens is zoomed any wider than about 150 mm, and if the exposure was set bright enough, some of the internals of the lens can be seen. I soon found that there’s a very narrow window in which things come into focus. Of course with a lens that old, predating any kind of dream about digital photography technology and what it would be capable of, the coatings on the glass are virtually nonexistent, and so the lens flares like crazy, and the sensor on my Nikon Z7 vastly out-resolves the resolution of the glass.

I brought the lens out with me on a few outings after I got the adapter, but nothing I was doing then really jived with the limitations that new piece of gear presented, and so I felt rather uninspired in what to do with it.

But then we bought our house, and as I spent hour after hour working there, and walking through the back yard with all the Ivy and Yucca and Roses and Virginia Creeper and grape vines, I knew that when I was done with all the renovations and had time to get the camera out again, that this lens would be exactly the tool to use to get to know our property.

I’ve had the lens out a few times in the past few weeks, and it’s been pretty fun to look at the backyard through that lens, literally, and metaphorically. That yard is so rich with vegetation that between the lens-based work I can mine from it and the lumens I have in mind to begin, I think I’ll never exhaust this place of its photographic potential.

I Climbed These Trees, Part III

The trees I used to climb are aging. As I mentioned in a previous blog post, one willow is dead. The other is not what it once was. The harsh Idaho winds and winters have taken their toll. Not to mention the toll that we took, though we never drove nails in that one. Some of my favorite branches have succumbed to the elements, and are no longer there, making my mind and faded memory attempt to fill in the gaps that exist when I look up.

Scar

Scar

Encompassed by the Branches

Encompassed by the Branches

No Ordinary Apple Tree

No Ordinary Apple Tree

I Climbed These Trees, Part II

There was one branch I regarded as the “Holy Grail.” I never was brave enough to venture up to that branch, but at least one of my brothers was: Jesse. I was always a little jealous of him for being braver than I.

The Highest We Dared

The Highest We Dared

Goodbye

Goodbye

Now Our Children Play Here

Now Our Children Play Here

Us four older siblings (I’m the oldest of eight) are now in our thirties. I myself am nearing 40. We haven’t played back there as children play for many years, but we, along with the younger four siblings, still gather back there in the summer, and it is now our children that play there. Many of them are still too little to be climbing trees, but in a few years they’ll be purposing those old willows and apple trees to fit their own wild imaginations.