If I were still aboard the aircraft carrier, working Marshal following a big launch, and some detail went awry forcing us to cancel the mission, I'd broadcast on UHF and VHF Guard (emergency frequencies), "99 Riptide, recall, recall". That should prompt everyone we just launched to return to the ship and check in with the Marshal controller for instructions. After driving 205 mi I hadn't seen enough bluebonnets on my chosen route to slow down, let alone stop and take pictures. So I quit. North of Vanderpool, approaching US 83, I reset my GPS to take me home. I've had it. The bluebonnets are really going to have to show me something special before I do this again. I've got a return trip to Utah planned for next month and refuse to get bogged down any more, chasing ungrateful flowers. . . my dogwoods in Georgia never treated me this way. . .
This view looking south, just over 5 mi south of Luckenbach on FM 1376 and the sky still colored by the sunrise, is starting the descent into the valley of the Guadalupe River. Before I got to the river, I turned west and headed for Comfort, then raced up I-10 to Kerrville, then south again to Medina.
These two shots (above and below) were both on TX 337 east of Vanderpool, looking east towards Anderson Hollow, Tatum Lake, and Medina. It's not a zoom lens trick, however; they were taken about 8 minutes (and however many miles that equates to) apart, but you can see by the alignment that all the significant curves in this stretch of road are up and down. But what really impresses me in both these shots is what the Guadalupe River has done to the Edwards (?) Plateau over the course of millions of years. Who woulda thunk it?
This shot was taken looking west (from the same stop as the first shot of the valley, above) and its only purpose is to show what a fine day this was for a nice drive (irrespective of the paucity of bluebonnets). But just think how great this view would be if there were some blue flowers blanketing both sides of the highway. . .
I was still on task at this point, though I think the idea of cancelling the rest of the tour had crept into my mind by this time. When I saw this gate for the Menagerie Ranch, with the scrap iron Tyrannosaurus Rex sculpture, I thought, "There are still going to be things to take pictures of." About six miles down the road (TX 39) there was another, fairly elaborate, ranch gate. Two flag poles (a US and Texas flag), stone work. . . the fact that the Texas flag was upside down was just really annoying. Now, maybe the Comanches or remnants of Santa Ana's army had captured the ranch, but I didn't consider that. Screw it. I'm not even going to turn around to take a picture of the flags. I'm goin' home.
The annual Orange and White football game is Saturday. I WON'T be out looking for bluebonnets. We're all anxious to see what Charlie Strong has done with the 'Horns thus far. It's only been three months but video reports on the Spring practices show an impressive amount of energy being expended. . .
Sharing some favorite pictures, some reminiscences and/or cogent comments about the images with family and friends. Occasionally, I might include someone else's picture to illustrate a point, but I'll let you know when that's the case. As ever, click on an image to view a larger version.
Saturday, April 19, 2014
2014 Bluebonnet Recce???
The week started out well. Stephen came home from a week supporting an artist convention in Monterey, and I was planning a road trip to Corpus Christi to see a friend from high school whom I had not seen for over 50 years. Events conspired to make us postpone the trip, but the meeting's planned and we'll get it done.
This panorama was done with a hand-held camera, five individual shots and, of course, Photoshop to match up the series of pictures. My estimate is that it takes in about 120 degrees, using the 28-135mm zoom lens.
The location of these pictures (all but the last) is FM 1888 west of Blanco and about 10 min from Luckenbach. The presence of the full moon when I'm out shooting sunrises on a bluebonnet hunt, reminded me of my very successful 2012 all-day hunt. But we're thinking about sunrise here, not bluebonnets.
It's a pretty road - at least as the day dawns. I'll have to check it our later in the day to confirm it, but I'm thinking it's one of several roads I discovered today that are worth revisiting.
It was also much cooler this morning than usual. . . jeans, not shorts, were the order of the day. I was thinking as I shot the picture above that the goats were probably pleased to see the sun coming up.
Luckenbach. I really didn't expect to see much at this time of day. But there was so much less. They turned out the lights; I guess the party was over. I may go back to shoot the Post Office (closed) and Tanz Halle at some point - with tourists milling about smartly - but I couldn't see the sunrise for the trees from there, so. . . this shot is the sky at sunrise over the back of the Engel Haus across the parking area for Luckenbach. I had to remove all the parking markers in the foreground, but they're probably back by now if you drive by to check.
Of course, this is just sunrise on an all-day, far-ranging expedition, right? More to follow, like it or not.
This panorama was done with a hand-held camera, five individual shots and, of course, Photoshop to match up the series of pictures. My estimate is that it takes in about 120 degrees, using the 28-135mm zoom lens.
The location of these pictures (all but the last) is FM 1888 west of Blanco and about 10 min from Luckenbach. The presence of the full moon when I'm out shooting sunrises on a bluebonnet hunt, reminded me of my very successful 2012 all-day hunt. But we're thinking about sunrise here, not bluebonnets.
It's a pretty road - at least as the day dawns. I'll have to check it our later in the day to confirm it, but I'm thinking it's one of several roads I discovered today that are worth revisiting.
It was also much cooler this morning than usual. . . jeans, not shorts, were the order of the day. I was thinking as I shot the picture above that the goats were probably pleased to see the sun coming up.
Luckenbach. I really didn't expect to see much at this time of day. But there was so much less. They turned out the lights; I guess the party was over. I may go back to shoot the Post Office (closed) and Tanz Halle at some point - with tourists milling about smartly - but I couldn't see the sunrise for the trees from there, so. . . this shot is the sky at sunrise over the back of the Engel Haus across the parking area for Luckenbach. I had to remove all the parking markers in the foreground, but they're probably back by now if you drive by to check.
Of course, this is just sunrise on an all-day, far-ranging expedition, right? More to follow, like it or not.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
The Evaluation (cont.)
The window is closing on 2014's crop of bluebonnets. But at present, I think this one is not as fine as either 2010 or 2012. Of course, they may still not have peaked yet. I fear I must go ahead with my plan for a day-long, far-ranging bluebonnet expedition before the window slams shut. But wait, you say. What about the rest of this drive? Wasn't there anything else to arrest your attention? Oh, yeah. . .
There's always the beauty and promise of an (empty) open road. And, in this case, there are the bluebonnets to consider. If I laid out my course to evaluate the year's crop, aren't I obligated somehow to carry on? There may well be tons of bluebonnets around the next bend, n'est ce que pas?
I'm often amazed by what's around the next corner; however, I am continually surprised by what I find when I drive the other direction on a road for the first time. I've driven Park Rd 4 many times, but never this direction, until Saturday. I was startled by this view looking west, above the junction with FM 2342 to Kingsland. Since we cannot always turn around and check out the scenery from the opposite direction it might help, certainly when we're on a scenic tour, to pay more attention to what's in our rear-view mirrors.
It also helps to change your focus occasionally. In this case, once out of the pickup and having taken the shot of the vista, I was able to look around at the component parts of it's composition. It's hard to conceive of a landscape architect having been at work here on the state's nickle to dress up the view as I came around the corner. And, if he had, could he have done his work any better? This is a beautiful arrangement of component parts! And not a bluebonnet to be seen.
Farther down the road, of course, there were indeed more bluebonnets, with some Indian paintbrush added as a counterpoint. . . maybe not as many in years past, but certainly more than last week when Amy and I passed this way.
By this time I've put things into perspective: shoot what's in front of you (and what's beside you and what's behind you) and enjoy yourself. Pay attention to the bluebonnets for your evaluation, but take the blinders off and appreciate the other things as well.
And what might be or might have been? When you read about bears and wolves in the woods, you're more alert walking through the woods. When your reading includes tales of Comanches roaming the Hill Country, you can't drive down US 281 without imagining a raiding party making tracks under a full moon. And, if you've enjoyed Louis L'Amour and J Frank Dobie, you'd almost certainly see a Longhorn staring back at you from the rocky hillside. This cow is one of Robert & Kim's brought all the way from San Angelo, mirrored and installed right where she should have been if I'd been here looking around for Comanches 150 years ago. See how that works? Reading... imagination... technology... opportunity...
Shake it off, Parker. Ah, there's the lake. Don't forget the evaluation. Some paintbrush and a few bluebonnets - but still more than last week. Yeah, if there are more than last week, which seems to be the case, you need to make that definitive day-long, far-ranging expedition. It may not rival 2012's trip, but I should still see more than I've seen thus far in 2014. And that'll be worth the effort.
A couple miles left on Park Rd 4 till I get to TX 29. Anything left to shoot? Of course! I'm going "the wrong way" after all. What do I see going this direction that I've missed all those other times headed south? Texas has always been a hard land. Look at this tree. Talk about a hard life! Beaten up, mostly dead, but still sending off shoots. Well, whatever it takes to survive. . .
If this post seems somewhat disjointed, I apologize. I've been distracted. Last week I recorded "The Prize" on TCM (I always liked Paul Newman). I started the playback when I started the post. . . since I'd already seen it any number of times it would be "background noise" and I could look up and pay attention when it got to the "good parts". So, everything's going along fine. . . then, "I don't remember that?!! And where is Julie Andrews? And what's Elke Sommer doing in this?" And Edward G Robinson for that matter. It seems that besides having to dig for things that had always been filed close at hand, I'm now mixing up movies, which I hardly ever did before. "The Prize" is not "Torn Curtain", and Paul Newman was getting a Nobel Prize, not attending a conference in Copenhagen. He was a writer in the first and a scientist in the second; he uncovered a plot in the first and snatched a secret formula in the second. I like them both - now - but they shouldn't be confused.
There's always the beauty and promise of an (empty) open road. And, in this case, there are the bluebonnets to consider. If I laid out my course to evaluate the year's crop, aren't I obligated somehow to carry on? There may well be tons of bluebonnets around the next bend, n'est ce que pas?
I'm often amazed by what's around the next corner; however, I am continually surprised by what I find when I drive the other direction on a road for the first time. I've driven Park Rd 4 many times, but never this direction, until Saturday. I was startled by this view looking west, above the junction with FM 2342 to Kingsland. Since we cannot always turn around and check out the scenery from the opposite direction it might help, certainly when we're on a scenic tour, to pay more attention to what's in our rear-view mirrors.
It also helps to change your focus occasionally. In this case, once out of the pickup and having taken the shot of the vista, I was able to look around at the component parts of it's composition. It's hard to conceive of a landscape architect having been at work here on the state's nickle to dress up the view as I came around the corner. And, if he had, could he have done his work any better? This is a beautiful arrangement of component parts! And not a bluebonnet to be seen.
Farther down the road, of course, there were indeed more bluebonnets, with some Indian paintbrush added as a counterpoint. . . maybe not as many in years past, but certainly more than last week when Amy and I passed this way.
By this time I've put things into perspective: shoot what's in front of you (and what's beside you and what's behind you) and enjoy yourself. Pay attention to the bluebonnets for your evaluation, but take the blinders off and appreciate the other things as well.
And what might be or might have been? When you read about bears and wolves in the woods, you're more alert walking through the woods. When your reading includes tales of Comanches roaming the Hill Country, you can't drive down US 281 without imagining a raiding party making tracks under a full moon. And, if you've enjoyed Louis L'Amour and J Frank Dobie, you'd almost certainly see a Longhorn staring back at you from the rocky hillside. This cow is one of Robert & Kim's brought all the way from San Angelo, mirrored and installed right where she should have been if I'd been here looking around for Comanches 150 years ago. See how that works? Reading... imagination... technology... opportunity...
Shake it off, Parker. Ah, there's the lake. Don't forget the evaluation. Some paintbrush and a few bluebonnets - but still more than last week. Yeah, if there are more than last week, which seems to be the case, you need to make that definitive day-long, far-ranging expedition. It may not rival 2012's trip, but I should still see more than I've seen thus far in 2014. And that'll be worth the effort.
A couple miles left on Park Rd 4 till I get to TX 29. Anything left to shoot? Of course! I'm going "the wrong way" after all. What do I see going this direction that I've missed all those other times headed south? Texas has always been a hard land. Look at this tree. Talk about a hard life! Beaten up, mostly dead, but still sending off shoots. Well, whatever it takes to survive. . .
If this post seems somewhat disjointed, I apologize. I've been distracted. Last week I recorded "The Prize" on TCM (I always liked Paul Newman). I started the playback when I started the post. . . since I'd already seen it any number of times it would be "background noise" and I could look up and pay attention when it got to the "good parts". So, everything's going along fine. . . then, "I don't remember that?!! And where is Julie Andrews? And what's Elke Sommer doing in this?" And Edward G Robinson for that matter. It seems that besides having to dig for things that had always been filed close at hand, I'm now mixing up movies, which I hardly ever did before. "The Prize" is not "Torn Curtain", and Paul Newman was getting a Nobel Prize, not attending a conference in Copenhagen. He was a writer in the first and a scientist in the second; he uncovered a plot in the first and snatched a secret formula in the second. I like them both - now - but they shouldn't be confused.
Monday, April 14, 2014
2014 Bluebonnet Evaluation
With a serious lack of imagination I drove south out of Austin on Saturday seeking the visual cues that will tell me whether or not the bluebonnets have peaked yet this year. I'd been out to Inks Lake twice already; the first time was in response to reports of beaucoup bluebonnets between here and Bastrop, and the second time was with Amy, my daughter-in-law, when she visited from Australia about 10 days ago. Both excursions were disappointing with respect to bluebonnets west of Austin, but in both cases I needed to get out for a drive or go buggy here in the hermitage.
I also wanted some quality time with my new lens (70-300mm, remember? I told you about it a couple of weeks ago, you just don't remember.) This is the view looking south from "the Pass", a roadcut through a limestone ridge on Ranch Rd 165 between Henley and Blanco. This is the 70mm version.
This, on the other hand, is the 300mm version looking at the same bend in the road, but with more traffic and more wildlife. That's a Turkey Vulture, identifiable by the white underside of the wings' trailing edges. We also do Black Vultures here, but they were on strike or something so they missed the pictures. One of the things that's neat about this lens is that if the sky is ugly or boring on a particular day, it doesn't necessarily have to be in the picture.
Buzzards and vultures are really ugly, up close. Of course, it's not their fault, and they do have redeeming social value. Besides helping out with road kill, they're as graceful as any bird in nature. It's up to us to choose the distance that doesn't embarrass the creature and provides us an aesthetic experience, watching it soar effortlessly over the countryside. The picture above, taken from a bridge on the eastern outskirts of Blanco, emphasizes that vultures aren't the only homely denizens of our skies (or the homeliest) and, for good measure, demonstrates that the ugly duckling doesn't always turn into a swan and, if you think about it for a while, may even suggest that the whole story of the ugly duckling was a hoax. . . or at least a myth.
This view looking west, up the Blanco River, shows the lovely park where the very sad duck in the previous picture lives. Life doesn't necessarily kick a critter when he's down. And, here in Texas, it's nice to see a river with water in it, even if it relies on dams to carry off the effect.
After driving Amy out to where the bluebonnets were supposed to be several days before, I had to go back and see if they were any better now that they didn't have to impress her. This ranch is one Mom and I found a few years ago - and that I couldn't find when I was squiring Amy about the Hill Country. It was a 50-50 chance I'd find it on the first trip. . . but what does that say in the grand scheme of things. I did find it on the second try. I also have to say that they didn't present as well as they had when I was with Mom. I don't know if it was the color per se, or the lighting, or the number of flowers, or whether it's just the Thomas Wolf effect: you can't go home again.
Same ranch, a little way down the road. Nothing particularly special, but it's a pleasant image and I wanted to play with it a bit in PS. I sometimes wonder just what it was in some of my pictures that arrested my attention in the first place. Pondering this puzzle for a really long time, I'm inclined to think it has to do with telling a story or describing a place or just communicating something. You see, I find I can't just say, "That's no good," and delete it. I'm compelled to "play with it", and it usually gets better. Two things that commonly surface in these exercises are that the visual composition of the image, the balance, is extremely important and that, often, all that's necessary to complete it is a few words of copy in the appropriate size and font. That doesn't mean I necessarily go ahead and "finish it". It's enough for me to know that the image would "work" if I need a poster or a magazine spread about ranches in the Spring. Does that make any sense?
This horse lives across the highway from the that windmill with all the bluebonnets in the pasture. There are a few in this pasture as well, but what is it that determines whether a paddock is going to be covered with blue in the Spring or show just a smattering? If this one is covered with bluebonnets this year, will it be more likely to put on a good show next year (assuming the drought doesn't preclude a grand show anywhere in the area)? Who knows? I guess if dogwoods are out of the question, I'll keep trying to evaluate the bluebonnet crop.
I also wanted some quality time with my new lens (70-300mm, remember? I told you about it a couple of weeks ago, you just don't remember.) This is the view looking south from "the Pass", a roadcut through a limestone ridge on Ranch Rd 165 between Henley and Blanco. This is the 70mm version.
This, on the other hand, is the 300mm version looking at the same bend in the road, but with more traffic and more wildlife. That's a Turkey Vulture, identifiable by the white underside of the wings' trailing edges. We also do Black Vultures here, but they were on strike or something so they missed the pictures. One of the things that's neat about this lens is that if the sky is ugly or boring on a particular day, it doesn't necessarily have to be in the picture.
Buzzards and vultures are really ugly, up close. Of course, it's not their fault, and they do have redeeming social value. Besides helping out with road kill, they're as graceful as any bird in nature. It's up to us to choose the distance that doesn't embarrass the creature and provides us an aesthetic experience, watching it soar effortlessly over the countryside. The picture above, taken from a bridge on the eastern outskirts of Blanco, emphasizes that vultures aren't the only homely denizens of our skies (or the homeliest) and, for good measure, demonstrates that the ugly duckling doesn't always turn into a swan and, if you think about it for a while, may even suggest that the whole story of the ugly duckling was a hoax. . . or at least a myth.
This view looking west, up the Blanco River, shows the lovely park where the very sad duck in the previous picture lives. Life doesn't necessarily kick a critter when he's down. And, here in Texas, it's nice to see a river with water in it, even if it relies on dams to carry off the effect.
After driving Amy out to where the bluebonnets were supposed to be several days before, I had to go back and see if they were any better now that they didn't have to impress her. This ranch is one Mom and I found a few years ago - and that I couldn't find when I was squiring Amy about the Hill Country. It was a 50-50 chance I'd find it on the first trip. . . but what does that say in the grand scheme of things. I did find it on the second try. I also have to say that they didn't present as well as they had when I was with Mom. I don't know if it was the color per se, or the lighting, or the number of flowers, or whether it's just the Thomas Wolf effect: you can't go home again.
Same ranch, a little way down the road. Nothing particularly special, but it's a pleasant image and I wanted to play with it a bit in PS. I sometimes wonder just what it was in some of my pictures that arrested my attention in the first place. Pondering this puzzle for a really long time, I'm inclined to think it has to do with telling a story or describing a place or just communicating something. You see, I find I can't just say, "That's no good," and delete it. I'm compelled to "play with it", and it usually gets better. Two things that commonly surface in these exercises are that the visual composition of the image, the balance, is extremely important and that, often, all that's necessary to complete it is a few words of copy in the appropriate size and font. That doesn't mean I necessarily go ahead and "finish it". It's enough for me to know that the image would "work" if I need a poster or a magazine spread about ranches in the Spring. Does that make any sense?
This horse lives across the highway from the that windmill with all the bluebonnets in the pasture. There are a few in this pasture as well, but what is it that determines whether a paddock is going to be covered with blue in the Spring or show just a smattering? If this one is covered with bluebonnets this year, will it be more likely to put on a good show next year (assuming the drought doesn't preclude a grand show anywhere in the area)? Who knows? I guess if dogwoods are out of the question, I'll keep trying to evaluate the bluebonnet crop.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Back Yard. . . Undisclosed Location
I got my taxes done today, so I adjudge it to have been a successful day. On the other hand, the hardware store in my neighborhood closed up shop and, since my taxes were yet to be done, I elected not to go to Home Depot or Lowes. I dislike them as much as I like small hardware stores. I'll go tomorrow and get what I wanted. . . but I won't enjoy it.
My daughter-in-law, Amy, visited for a few days this week from Australia. Her visit occasioned a barbeque of sorts and siblings and in-laws from San Antonio and Arlington converged for this minor but quality gathering. It had been in the mid-80s when Amy flew in, but we had a frontal passage overnight and the temps plummeted. So, while Richard flipped burgers, nobody thought staying outside was much of an idea. (That's why I said, "a barbeque of sorts".)
I wanted to try out a few things camera-wise, so I did some quick shots in someone's back yard, but I told Karen I wouldn't tell whose. I wasn't crazy over the results as they came out of the camera, but I thought I might be able to spiff them up a bit in Photoshop. I'm developing a few new techniques as I go along so the effect on these shots is certainly similar, but not identical.
Mother's irises came back in a big way this year. She would have loved them. Whomever's back yard this is, it sure is a good place to remember Mom. I noticed some twigs on the patio that wouldn't have been there if Mom was close at hand. If she was outside, she was busy; if she was busy, she was happy.
I love the Japanese maple here. . . no, we're not in Japan. If it had been warmer I might have stayed long enough to get all of the included maple in focus and the background out. Perhaps next time.
On Friday, Amy and I rode around in the Hill Country in search of bluebonnets, but the trip was a bust. The wildflowers in Austin were more profuse than what we came across on our drive. Of course, that's what raised my expectations in the first place. They're beautiful out on US 183 east of the city. Amy's moved on, but I haven't given up on them. I'm still going on my day long wildflower drive - that's sort of like a cattle drive, only more botanical and less zoological. Anyway, in this set, it's more about the Photoshopping than the Undisclosed Location.
I wanted to try out a few things camera-wise, so I did some quick shots in someone's back yard, but I told Karen I wouldn't tell whose. I wasn't crazy over the results as they came out of the camera, but I thought I might be able to spiff them up a bit in Photoshop. I'm developing a few new techniques as I go along so the effect on these shots is certainly similar, but not identical.
Mother's irises came back in a big way this year. She would have loved them. Whomever's back yard this is, it sure is a good place to remember Mom. I noticed some twigs on the patio that wouldn't have been there if Mom was close at hand. If she was outside, she was busy; if she was busy, she was happy.
I love the Japanese maple here. . . no, we're not in Japan. If it had been warmer I might have stayed long enough to get all of the included maple in focus and the background out. Perhaps next time.
On Friday, Amy and I rode around in the Hill Country in search of bluebonnets, but the trip was a bust. The wildflowers in Austin were more profuse than what we came across on our drive. Of course, that's what raised my expectations in the first place. They're beautiful out on US 183 east of the city. Amy's moved on, but I haven't given up on them. I'm still going on my day long wildflower drive - that's sort of like a cattle drive, only more botanical and less zoological. Anyway, in this set, it's more about the Photoshopping than the Undisclosed Location.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Photoshop Thrills
2 pics, left of center |
I hadn't intended to post to the blog this week but I couldn't help it. I'm preparing for a couple of road trips, one in the middle of April chasing bluebonnets for a day and another at the end of the month exploring Utah for about five days. Well, you know me - planning is half the fun - so I set myself a couple goals. First, I decided that, since I was going to use my new GPS, I ought to learn how to plot my own routes rather than just go the way Garmin thought I should go. And second, I ought to use the GPS software to plan the trips so I could validate everything on the bluebonnet hunt to ensure that the Utah trip would go as planned.
I'll spread the pictures out and the copy will eventually catch up to them. Remember to click on at least the composite images to zoom in and see what's going on.
First 2 pics, merged |
Part of the planning still involves Google Maps and Google Earth. Though I wish they'd upgrade their StreetView cameras and quit smudging signs and curbside address numbers - that's gotta be on purpose; they couldn't screw up so many by mistake - I have to admit they get some great (considering the equipment) landscapes across the country. Not everywhere, to be sure, but enough to make me think it's not all luck. I did run into some shots that seemed to have been taken well after sunset out near the Cedar Breaks National Monument. I'm sure the crew were running a little late and just kept going, headed for that night's motel. Then they used that footage instead of retracing that section in the daylight. That's alright, I forgive them.
None of this, of course, is cause for its own blog. Well, I took a break in my planning yesterday and watched a couple Photoshop tutorials. That's necessary, you see, because there are so many esoteric functions in PS that you have to study it to expand your horizons. Why would you spend that much money for the program and not try to get as much as you could out of it, right? So, one of the tutorials demonstrated the PS Photomerge function. Now, I've merged shots I'd taken specifically to become part of a panorama before. But I used a tripod and was very careful to make sure I got the necessary overlap, etc. and usually came out with something I was pleased with. This Photomerge is a different kettle of fish altogether. So I was impressed with the video tutorial, but needed to get back to my trip planning.
Second 2 pics, merged |
The first StreetView I called up - to identify likely spots for photo opportunities on the Utah trip - showed a view looking north in the late afternoon with some great cloud action and lighting. And I immediately decided on a panorama test for that Photomerge function. I copied four sreenshots from StreetView, paying some attention to overlap, but not too worried about consistency, and let Photoshop mull them over for several minutes. I got an output image, but it left one of the shots out entirely and I wasn't satisfied with the result. So I went back and merged the first two and merged the last two. Both were satisfactory this time, but it didn't seem like much of a panorama. What to do? What else? I merged the first panorama with the second one. It was okay overall, but needed some special work after the fact to make it presentable. But that's what I've been doing for years, playing with this stuff to try to salvage pictures.
All four merged, finished with "Content Aware" (and a little extra effort) |
Part of the demo included a little detail you sometimes stumble upon that, when you do, you think, "Why didn't somebody tell me about that before? It would have been so damn useful." Well, this little tidbit is related to "Content Aware" functions that came out with Photoshop CS6 (I think). The Photomerge bends and twists things to fit/match and you wind up with really strangely shaped images that you might just ruthlessly crop, leaving a very small portion of what had been rendered. Because of "Content Aware" I can just "delete" the surrounding whitespace and Photoshop comes up with amazingly crafted fill for that otherwise "dead" space.
A 5-image panorama, nearly 180 degrees |
Now, just to make sure I hadn't dreamed all this up, I found another stretch of road in the same part of the state and used 5 shots (thanks again, Google Maps), being more careful with overlaps, and let Photoshop come up with it's best stab at it - which was amazingly good. I can't wait to use this on my own pictures when I get back from my trip. Both these composite images were made from StreetView images taken around Panguitch, Utah.
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