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Something I omitted in the telling my my weekend story was the fact that I awoke with a cold on Saturday morning which has proceeded to get worse and worse. Although I went to work today, I came home feeling poorly and am disinclined to go hunting for a shot this evening but I'll present you with a freshly reworked version of a venerable shot in my digital library named, DSC_0125.

 

Way back in the fall of 2008 (when dinosaurs roamed the Earth), the wife and I embarked on a ten day driving holiday of Scotland beginning in Glasgow. On the morning of day one, we visited The Scottish Piping Centre. It was a cold, wet day (not really a surprise) and in the gift shop of the museum, Rebecca was modelling a sporran in the mirror. Quickly, I reached for our trusty little Canon Powershot Elph 630 for a candid snap. In one fluid arcing motion, I pulled the then pricey little poiint-and-shoot from it's case, hit the power button and the lens extended for operation but it's overall trajectory continued. I watched, in slow motion, grabbing at air as the camera continued out away from me and towards the floor. After moment of deafening silence (the kind that always follows catastrophic events), the little Canon was declared alive... but just barely.

Did I mention it was day one?

 

We enquired as to the location of a camera shop and were directed to a Jessops up the street. They, in turn, referred us to a little back-alley, camera repair shop who said they could fix it but it would take five days. Deeming this unacceptable, I pushed for plan B. Buy a new camera.

 

We went back to Jessops and had a look. The prices seemed high and I wanted to shop around a bit more so the next stop was John Lewis, a few doors down. As we shopped, I took the opportunity to play with the entry-level DSLR's. I owned an old Canon FT (35mm film SLR) from back in the day (even before dinosaurs) and though I'd never handled a DSLR before, I had looked at them in magazines and enjoyed the feel of holding a "real" camera in my hands again. I convinced the wife that, since the little camera could be repaired, it would be silly to buy another one for the trip and would make more sense to buy a DSLR (especially since we could buy it duty free because we lived in Switzerland at the time) so we could have both in the future (I'm such a rationalizer).

 

She reluctantly agreed and history was made. I didn't know anything about RAW files or processing but I knew a bit about composition, form, texture, light and shadow (and some of that other stuff one picks up while pursuing an art degree). The next nine days changed my life as I felt the true joy of photography (without the expense of film). I was hooked.

 

This shot was taken at Kilmuir Cemetery on the Isle of Skye on a cold, windy, October afternoon. It was the 125th frame (hence the Nikon file name, DSC_125) from my new Nikon D60, purchased a mere 30 or so hours prior. The original shot is one I've seen many times in my library and one of the other shots (Eilean Donan Castle at sunrise) from this trip hangs in a frame in our home. I never before messed with these old photos and thought some new life could come from them via technology. I reworked this old favorite tonight to avoid having to venture out for a shot but I see that it has taken me all evening to process the image and write this so I don't know if I gained anything this way, other than I got to share my story again (oh, and created this new image based on a revered personal classic). :)

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Taken on October 26, 2008