Captions capture the captured image

     If there is one thing I will take away from learning about captions it’s the need you feel to read the stories. We’re all human. We have short attention spans. If we see a story that is 750 words without a photo then we will likely stay away. If that same story in a different paper had two photos with a caption that had the basic who, what, why, when and where included then we would be more inclined to read the story.

     Captions, to me, act as a brief summary for the story. If I’m unsure whether I want to read a story or pass over it I default to looking at the photo and reading the caption. Does it sound interesting? Does it sound scandalous? Does it sound heroic? Does it sound like I’ll be crying by the end?

     Captions give us the quick information we want and they are dependent not on the story but the photo. If you have a story about rescue dogs but a photo of a paw print in the snow chances are you won’t have the greatest caption to pair with the story and photo. Captions capture not only the photo but the story as well.

     The lesson learned? Try to always keep the story in the front of your mind in order to get a great photo for a story because it can make or break who wants to read the story.

Calmly remove finger from the button and step away from the camera

The trees in Elizabeth Park come alive at dusk.

     I’ve come to the conclusion there’s way more to think about when taking a photo than your zoom, lighting and subject. Before watching "Language of the Image," I have always been keen on snapping photos of dogs doing cute things and beautiful landscapes. A wintery park was my personal gold mine and ultimate death of a 32 GB memory card. 

     Now? Not so much.

Empty stables wait for warmer weather to be filled with ponies.

     I went to Elizabeth Park in Wyandotte because I knew there were snow covered bridges and trails full of naked trees sheathing their modesty with a clear layer of ice. I had forgotten the scale of the park until I had walked roughly 50 feet ahead and turned to see my car looked like a pea on an entrée plate. I took a few photos but each time I raised the shutter a bit higher to 1/2000 in order to get the shadows of the trees in the photo. Not only did it make the road look like a cement zebra but it made the natural light during the golden hour on the trees more intense.

Only a snowmobile can access this "service drive." 

      When I drove around the park I laughed at the irony of a pony park. Unfortunately, the permanent sign stays year round as a tease to children waiting to get their pony ride but are forced to wait until the sunny summer months for their chance. I applied the rule of thirds when getting the sign and empty stables, set my shutter to 1/3200 and shifted around to get the perfect angle for the photo.

      As I was backtracking to my car I stopped because I felt lost. A sign standing in at least a foot of snow warned me to keep out because it was a service drive. Strange seeing as there was no drive. I kept the rule of thirds in mind when I took the photo and kicked my settings up a few notches to 1/1600 to keep the snow from getting over exposed and thus killing the irony of the photo. The natural light was glaring at me as I took the photo and the end result shows the shadows of the trees reaching out to me.

       I was sad I couldn’t find anything on my journey that would be considered graphic but I was happy with my trip through Elizabeth Park looking for ways to put our “Language of the Image” lesson to use. The exercise was fun, freezing and frustrating because I felt like a kid prancing around a winter wonderland trying to keep photo elements in mind before snapping any pictures. I won't lie, a few times I had to stop myself from taking photos of frolicking squirrels.