Monday, February 26, 2007
Really red radishes
London, Ontario, January 2007
As I stare at this image, a surprising thought occurs to me: I don't even like radishes. They're such subversive little root-things that, on their own, don't taste all that great (I know, this'll get me some hate mail. Bring it on, Mom.) Still, you've got to admire the texture when they lay out a particularly fresh pile underneath the fluorescent light.
Some history: If you're new to the blog, you may want to click the following links for past grocery store adventures: apples, peppers, yellow peppers, still more peppers, fish, and leaves. As you can tell, I'm somewhat obsessively drawn to fresh produce at the grocery store.
A technical note: Ideally, I'd be able to bring in my tripod and take some longer-exposure images of these things. Then I'd have as much time and depth of field as I'd need, and life would be photographically good. But I never know when a grocery store cop (GSC, because I'm a geek and I'm addicted to short-forms) will show up from nowhere and bust me. Really, it's happened: click this entry, Busted by the grocery police, for the ugly details of my grand adventure at the not-Wal-Mart.
In the wake of that experience, I worry constantly about getting caught. Thus I'm forced to shoot fast. I preset the camera as best I can before going into the store. When I approach my fruity target of opportunity, I compose the shot in my head, then yank the camera from its bag and trip the shutter as quickly as I can before stuffing my optical weapon back into its bag and assuming the usual glassy-eyed stare of the brain-dead grocery shopper.
Zero to sixty, and back to zero again. No one ever said the life of the surreptitious grocery store shooter would be an easy one.
One last thought: "Fruity target of opportunity," "Brain-dead grocery shopper," and "Grocery store shooter." I suspect these will get the search engines wagging.
Oops, one more: Long ago, I posted this image of radishes as well. I apparently have no qualms about returning to the vegetables that have been good to me in the past.
Your turn: What's my next vegetable of opportunity? What do you want to see?