There’s a hole, in my sole. Well, actually not in my sole, but at an even less pleasant part of my wading suit. A place where the sun don’t shine and that does not rhyme with hole (actually, it does…). I went to photograph Moor Frogs in their blue prime. There were dozens plopping their blue hearts out, but they were surprisingly shy. Even the blink of an eye made them dive under up to several meters away. The moment I laid down in the shallow waters, I felt the cold and brackish water enter my wading suit. For three hours, I lay shivering, turning as blue as my intended subjects. With no results at all. So the next morning, I tried something else. A warm day, followed by a cold night was bound to provide morning mist. I found only little mist swaying over the murky waters of the fishing ponds. But somehow, these patches of mist work way better than overall thick mist, as they provide more variation when the sun tries to peek through. I found a corner in one of the larger ponds where the mist hung around a little longer. Lots of ducks and geese obligingly swam across the pond. Above, it’s a couple of Tufted Ducks that were willing to be part in the creation of my misty canvas. Btw, the horizon is not slanted, it’s a perfectly level illusion created by the shore of the pond and the way the sunlight falls on the water. I’m off, repairing my hole.

Tufted Ducks; Canon 7D w. 500/4L IS; 1/5000s at F5.6 and ISO400; tripod