Batteries in the cold
Two spare cells live in an inside pocket now. At four degrees a full battery gives me barely forty frames, and the camera lies about how much is left.
Personal notebook
I photograph harbours, bridges and empty streets after dark, mostly around Noord-Holland. These pages are where I keep what I learn, so I stop repeating the same mistakes.
Two spare cells live in an inside pocket now. At four degrees a full battery gives me barely forty frames, and the camera lies about how much is left.
I wanted one for eighteen months. What actually improved the pictures was a heavier tripod head and the patience to wait out the wind, which costs nothing and fits in no bag.
Rain is not the problem, reflections are. A two second exposure turns every puddle into a mirror of the sodium lamps, and the whole frame goes orange. I now underexpose by roughly a stop and bring the shadows back later, which keeps the highlights on the water from clipping.
The other lesson: bring a cloth. Every twenty minutes the front element collects enough drizzle to soften the corners, and it is invisible on the back screen until you are home.