So with the fire still burning bright, I wanna gaze into your light. If I could see my fortune there, You know how flames can hypnotize. Do I even dare to speak out your name for fear, It sounds like, like a lover?
So don't cry for your love, cry tears of joy 'Cause you're alive cradled in love...
Scarlet-LarkFeatured By OwnerJan 26, 2013Student General Artist
I've been endlessly intrigued by moon photography for some time now, as I often get a good view of it from the porch and deck of my house, however capturing it seems to be a problem for me. Might you have any tips? Unfortunately I don't have a camera with interchangeable lenses yet, but it is a nicer camera and I'm used to working with the manual settings.
Brilliant photograph, by the way-I am simply floored by the crispness of the left edge, as well as the feathering of right side. The detail too is gorgeous, awesome job.
some of my rules or thoughts; early morning moons tend to yield me better results. it's the time of the lowest heat distortion in the atmosphere. I usually use an fstop of 16. with a full moon you will be near the same settings as a sunny day. oh and first and foremost, you have to use a steady tripod with a timer or remote.
the main thing is shoot it shoot it shoot it. study your settings on the shots you like best and evolve from there
Out of the cradle endlessly rocking, Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle, Out of the Ninth-month midnight, Over the sterile sands and the fields beyond, where the child leaving his bed wander’d alone, bareheaded, barefoot, Down from the shower’d halo, Up from the mystic play of shadows twining and twisting as if they were alive, Out from the patches of briers and blackberries, From the memories of the bird that chanted to me, From your memories sad brother, from the fitful risings and fallings I heard, From under that yellow half-moon late-risen and swollen as if with tears, From those beginning notes of yearning and love there in the mist, From the thousand responses of my heart never to cease, From the myriad thence-arous’d words, From the word stronger and more delicious than any, From such as now they start the scene revisiting, As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing, Borne hither, ere all eludes me, hurriedly, A man, yet by these tears a little boy again, Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves, I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter, Taking all hints to use them, but swiftly leaping beyond them, A reminiscence sing.~
Well, they say it's kinda frightnin' How this younger generation swings You know it's more than just some new sensation Well, the kid is into losin' sleep And he don't come home for half the week You know it's more than just an aggravation
And the cradle will rock Yes the cradle, cradle will rock...