Watching deer hunters, killing time

 As I waited for deer hunters Monday morning to wander out of the woods (sooner or later they'll grow bored of sitting in their tree stand or standing alone in the cold) I at least had a warm van for refuge.

Over there on a ridge is a hunter, apparently waiting for deer to stroll past.

They never did.

There's another hunter leaning against a tree for the past hour, hoping deer will race past, escaping other hunters.

They didn't, either.

So, with the hunters' activities slowed to the speed of ice thawing, you look for something to do until The Moment happens-- assuming it will.

Look down, and in the chilly morning air is a gallery of frosty ice tossed over a field of greenery. Throw on a macro lens that's older than most Dispatch reporters and add a circle flash that in human years could graduate from college. And then, look close.

Making a picture out of a frosty morning is a challenge. Old lenses are tight and finicky, old flashes don't work with digital anything. Fingers get cold, batteries die quickly, and my old stomach grumbles for a Lee's Diner breakfast.

Try different angles, different lights, different magnifications. It's fun. Really.