Kodak Retina IIc
For decades, I dismissed Kodak cameras, associating them with the mass-produced, lowquality designs of the 1970s and 1980s. My career as a professional photographer and enthusiast led me to favor Minolta film cameras and later Sony and Canon digital systems. However, my recent exploration of 35mm folding cameras, driven by the need for a rangefinder-equipped model suitable for my visual impairment, brought me to reconsider Kodak’s Retina line. This article chronicles my journey from skepticism to admiration, culminating in the acquisition and use of a Kodak Retina IIc.
For decades, I dismissed Kodak cameras, associating them with the mass-produced, lowquality designs of the 1970s and 1980s. My career as a professional photographer and enthusiast led me to favor Minolta film cameras and later Sony and Canon digital systems. However, my recent exploration of 35mm folding cameras, driven by the need for a rangefinder-equipped model suitable for my visual impairment, brought me to reconsider Kodak’s Retina line. This article chronicles my journey from skepticism to admiration, culminating in the acquisition and use of a Kodak Retina IIc.
Growing up in the late 1970s and 1980s, I encountered Kodak cameras that epitomized the era’s "plastic fantastic" and Bakelite designs. These cameras, often flimsy and prone to failure, earned a poor reputation among photographers, frequently relegated to the status of gag gifts. While Kodak’s film remained the gold standard, their cameras, in my view, fell short of the quality offered by competitors like Minolta, which I relied on for years. This bias shaped my equipment choices, leading me to overlook Kodak’s offerings for much of my career.
As a legally blind photographer, I sought a compact 35mm folding camera with a rangefinder to simplify focusing, given my inability to judge distances accurately. Initially, I turned to Voigtländer’s Vito series, which I found reliable and well-designed. However, the only Vito model with a built-in rangefinder, the Vito III, was prohibitively expensive. This led me to revisit Kodak’s Retina line, specifically the IIc and IIIc models, which combine portability with rangefinder functionality.
My perspective shifted after discovering Retina Rescue, a website by Chris Sherlock, a renowned expert in vintage camera repair. Sherlock’s detailed insights into the Retina series, coupled with his engaging YouTube channel, provided a wealth of knowledge about the cameras’ engineering and history. His work challenged my assumptions about Kodak and inspired me to seek out a Retina IIc or IIIc.
After a thorough search, I found an eBay auction for a mint-condition Retina IIc, complete with 35mm and 80mm accessory lenses. Winning the auction at a price well below market value felt like a stroke of luck. When the camera arrived, it was pristine, with all components functioning as described. The Retina IIc’s Exposure Value (EV) system, which couples shutter speed and aperture based on a light meter reading, proved intuitive and accessible, particularly for someone with visual limitations.
On Father’s Day, I tested the Retina IIc during an outing to Show Low and Pinetop, Arizona, with a stop at the Mogollon Rim overlook in Payson. The camera’s bottom-mounted film advance lever required some adjustment, but the rangefinder made focusing effortless. Shooting at sunset, I captured images of the valley and winding road below, and the results were striking—sharp, contrasty, and well-exposed across various settings. The Retina’s optical quality and design exceeded my expectations.
The Retina IIc has reshaped my view of Kodak cameras, revealing a level of craftsmanship made in Germany I had not associated with the brand. Its compact design, rangefinder precision, and reliable performance make it an excellent choice for photographers, especially those with visual impairments. I highly recommend exploring Chris Sherlock’s Retina Rescue for anyone interested in vintage cameras. For collectors and enthusiasts, the Retina series offers a unique blend of history and functionality.
I’d love to hear from fellow photographers: Do you collect Kodak Retinas? What are your experiences with these cameras? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
Exploring the Riordan Mansion in Flagstaff, Arizona
Nestled in the heart of Flagstaff, Arizona, amidst towering Ponderosa pines and just steps away from Northern Arizona University, the Riordan Mansion State Historic Park stands as a testament to Capitalism and Ambition of the early 20th century. This sprawling 13,000-square-foot duplex, built in 1904, is not just an architectural marvel but a living time capsule that tells the story of the Riordan family, their contributions to Flagstaff’s growth, and the Arts and Crafts movement that shaped their home. If you’re a history enthusiast, an architecture lover, or simply curious about Arizona’s territorial past, a visit to Riordan Mansion is an unforgettable journey into the heart of Northern Arizona’s heritage.
Nestled in the heart of Flagstaff, Arizona, amidst towering Ponderosa pines and just steps away from Northern Arizona University, the Riordan Mansion State Historic Park stands as a testament to Capitalism and Ambition of the early 20th century. This sprawling 13,000-square-foot duplex, built in 1904, is not just an architectural marvel but a living time capsule that tells the story of the Riordan family, their contributions to Flagstaff’s growth, and the Arts and Crafts movement that shaped their home. If you’re a history enthusiast, an architecture lover, or simply curious about Arizona’s territorial past, a visit to Riordan Mansion is an unforgettable journey into the heart of Northern Arizona’s heritage.
The Riordan family story begins with brothers Timothy and Michael Riordan, sons of Irish immigrants who settled in Chicago before making their way to the Arizona Territory in the 1880s. The Riordans were not just businessmen; they were visionaries who played a pivotal role in transforming Flagstaff from a gritty railroad outpost into a thriving industrial and cultural hub. Their fortunes were built on the Arizona Lumber and Timber Company, a powerhouse that employed a significant portion of the town’s residents and fueled Flagstaff’s economic growth. Beyond lumber, the Riordans were instrumental in bringing electricity to the city, establishing Upper and Lower Lake Mary, named after their daughter, Mary, and supporting the development of educational institutions like the Normal School, which evolved into Northern Arizona University. Their influence extended to banking, railroads, cattle, and even local politics, cementing their status as one of Flagstaff’s most prominent families.
Timothy and Michael married sisters Caroline and Elizabeth Metz, respectively, who were cousins of another influential Flagstaff family, the Babbitts. This close-knit family dynamic is reflected in the unique design of the mansion, which was constructed as a duplex to house both families under one roof while maintaining separate living spaces. The Riordans’ legacy is deeply woven into Flagstaff’s fabric, and their home remains a tangible link to their contributions.
Designed by Charles Whittlesey, the architect behind the iconic El Tovar Hotel at the Grand Canyon, Riordan Mansion is a stunning example of American Arts and Crafts-style architecture. Completed in just nine months between 1903 and 1904, the mansion features a rustic exterior of log-slab siding, volcanic stone arches, and hand-split wooden shingles, blending seamlessly with the natural landscape of Flagstaff’s cool pines. The 40-room estate, spanning over 13,000 square feet, includes two nearly identical 6,000-square-foot wings—one for Timothy and Caroline’s family and one for Michael and Elizabeth’s—connected by a shared “Rendezvous Room” where the families could gather.
The mansion was a marvel of modern technology for its time, boasting indoor plumbing, hot and cold running water, central heating, and electric lights—luxuries that were rare in territorial Arizona. The Arts and Crafts philosophy, which emphasized craftsmanship, natural materials, and simplicity, is evident throughout the home. The interior is adorned with built-in furniture, exposed wooden beams, and native stone, creating a warm, inviting atmosphere that reflects the movement’s celebration of nature and authenticity.
One of the mansion’s most striking features is the set of photographic windows in the Rendezvous Room. These windows, created by photographer John K. Hillers, who accompanied John Wesley Powell on his Grand Canyon expeditions, feature seven black-and-white images set against frosted glass. The photographs, a nod to the Riordans’ connection to the region’s exploration history, add a unique artistic touch to the home’s rustic charm.
To fully experience Riordan Mansion, a guided tour is a must. The interior is accessible only through these hour-long tours, which are offered daily on the hour from 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m., with reservations highly recommended due to limited capacity. The tour begins in the East House, Timothy and Caroline’s residence, which is furnished as if the family just stepped out, preserving the authenticity of the early 1900s. Visitors are treated to an in-depth look at the Riordan family’s history, the mansion’s architectural details, and its exceptional collection of Craftsman furnishings from renowned makers like Edison, Stickley, Ellis, and Steinway. The tour concludes in the West House, Michael and Elizabeth’s home, where self-guided exhibits delve into the Arts and Crafts movement, Native American pottery, the lumber industry, and a model of historic Flagstaff.
Located at 409 W. Riordan Road, Riordan Mansion is easily accessible, though visitors should note ongoing road construction on Riordan Road through June 20, 2025. The Arizona State Parks website recommends approaching from the east via Northern Arizona University, with the main entrance just west of the Riordan Road and Knoles Drive intersection. The park is open daily from 9:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. during the summer (May 1–October 31), with reduced hours (10:30 a.m.–5:00 p.m., closed Tuesdays and Wednesdays) from November 1 to April 30. The park is closed on Christmas Day.
The visitor center, housed in the former family garage, offers introductory exhibits and a gift shop stocked with books on the Arts and Crafts movement, Flagstaff history, and period-style souvenirs. The grounds, which span five acres, are free to explore and include picnic tables and scenic spots perfect for a relaxing afternoon.
The Riordan Mansion remained in the family until the 1980s, when descendants donated it to Arizona State Parks. Bob Chambers, Timothy’s son-in-law, gifted the East House in 1981, and Blanche, Michael’s eldest daughter, donated the West House in 1985. The park faced closure in 2010 due to state budget cuts, but the Riordan Action Network Group, a dedicated team of volunteers, ensured its survival through fundraising and community support. Today, volunteers continue to play a vital role in maintaining the mansion and offering educational tours, preserving this historic treasure for future generations.
Riordan Mansion is more than just a house; it’s a window into Flagstaff’s evolution from a territorial logging town to a vibrant modern city. The mansion’s architectural beauty, combined with the compelling story of the Riordan family, offers a rich and immersive experience. Whether you’re drawn to the intricate details of Arts and Crafts design, the history of Flagstaff’s pioneer families, or the chance to step back in time, Riordan Mansion delivers. Its proximity to other Flagstaff attractions, like Lowell Observatory, the Museum of Northern Arizona, and the historic Route 66 downtown, makes it an ideal stop on any Northern Arizona itinerary.
Deana and I had an absolutely amazing time exploring the stunning mansion. Our tour guide turned out to be truly exceptional! She not only answered our questions along the way but also captivated us with interesting facts as we made our way through the beautifully furnished East and West Wings of the mansion. I learned so much about the rich history of Northern Arizona and how this large family of first-generation Irish-Americans played a pivotal role in bringing civilization and culture to the unique landscape of Northern Arizona.
Desert Road
This photograph captures a striking, timeless scene, rendered in evocative black and white through the lens of a Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta, a classic medium-format camera renowned for its exceptional optical quality and mechanical precision. This image transports the viewer to a vast, open desert landscape, where a lone road stretches endlessly toward the horizon, flanked by rugged terrain and a dramatic mesa rising on the left. The monochromatic palette enhances the stark beauty of the scene, emphasizing contrasts between the smooth asphalt, the textured earth, and the towering rock formation under a sky dotted with scattered clouds.
This photograph captures a striking, timeless scene, rendered in evocative black and white through the lens of a Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta, a classic medium-format camera renowned for its exceptional optical quality and mechanical precision. This image transports the viewer to a vast, open desert landscape, where a lone road stretches endlessly toward the horizon, flanked by rugged terrain and a dramatic mesa rising on the left. The monochromatic palette enhances the stark beauty of the scene, emphasizing contrasts between the smooth asphalt, the textured earth, and the towering rock formation under a sky dotted with scattered clouds.
The Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta, manufactured in the mid-20th century, is renowned for its Tessar lens, which imparts sharp clarity and a profound tonal spectrum—qualities distinctly evident in this photograph. The selection of black-and-white film harmoniously complements the camera’s capabilities, eliminating color to emphasize form, shadow, and light. The image likely utilizes a slow film, Kentmere100, capturing minute grain and intense contrast, which accentuates the ruggedness of the desert and the gentle curvature of the road. The composition, with the road guiding the viewer’s gaze into the distance, evokes a sense of journey or solitude, a recurring theme in desert photography. The slight tilt of the horizon imparts a dynamic, almost cinematic quality.
The scene itself evokes the American Southwest, with its arid expanses and iconic geological features. The mesa, a flat-topped hill with steep sides, stands as a silent sentinel, its layers of erosion telling a story of millennia. The road, perfectly centered, cuts through the wilderness like a lifeline, hinting at human presence in an otherwise untouched natural world. Sparse vegetation and scattered shrubs dot the landscape, their muted tones blending into the grayscale, while the sky above offers a sense of vastness and freedom, tempered by the soft, drifting clouds.
The Zeiss Ikon’s ability to handle such lighting conditions, with its precise aperture and shutter controls, likely contributed to the image’s balanced exposure, where no detail is lost in the highlights or shadows. The black-and-white format also lends a nostalgic quality, reminiscent of classic road trip photographs from the mid-20th century, when the Super Ikonta was a favored tool among serious amateurs and professionals alike.
The emotional resonance of the image lies in its simplicity and isolation. The empty road invites contemplation—where does it lead? What stories have passed along this path? The mesa, with its imposing presence, adds a sense of permanence, contrasting with the transient nature of the journey. For photographers and enthusiasts, this image serves as a testament to the enduring appeal of film photography, where the deliberate process of shooting with a camera like the Super Ikonta fosters a deeper connection to the subject.
In today’s digital age, this photograph stands out as a reminder of the artistry involved in traditional photography. The Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta, with its manual focus and rangefinder system, required skill and patience, qualities that shine through in the meticulous framing and exposure of this desert scene. It’s a powerful blend of technology and nature, capturing a moment that feels both eternal and fleeting.
Barren Expanse
The photograph captures the awe-inspiring expanse of the Grand Canyon, a natural wonder that has captivated millions. Taken in striking black and white with a Voigtlander Vito IIa on Kentmere100, the photograph emphasizes the dramatic contrasts and textures of the canyon’s layered rock formations. The absence of color draws attention to the intricate details of the canyon walls, revealing the subtle variations in the rock layers that tell a story of ancient geological processes.
The photograph captures the awe-inspiring expanse of the Grand Canyon, a natural wonder that has captivated millions. Taken in striking black and white with a Voigtlander Vito IIa on Kentmere100, the photograph emphasizes the dramatic contrasts and textures of the canyon’s layered rock formations. The absence of color draws attention to the intricate details of the canyon walls, revealing the subtle variations in the rock layers that tell a story of ancient geological processes.
In the foreground, a barren tree with twisted, leafless branches frames the scene, adding a touch of stark elegance and a hint of the harsh desert environment that defines this region. The tree's silhouette against the vast canyon and the cloudy sky creates a poignant contrast, symbolizing both resilience and the passage of time. The clouds themselves add depth to the image, casting soft shadows over the rugged terrain and enhancing the sense of scale and majesty that the Grand Canyon embodies.
Situated in Arizona, United States, the Grand Canyon stands as one of the most renowned and iconic landscapes globally. With a length spanning approximately 277 miles, a width reaching up to 18 miles, and a depth exceeding a mile, this natural marvel was sculpted by the Colorado River over an estimated six million years. Notably, the canyon’s rocks possess a geological history dating back nearly two billion years, providing a profound glimpse into Earth’s ancient past. The canyon’s vibrant layers, ranging from the dark Vishnu Schist at its base to the lighter Kaibab Limestone at its rim, collectively constitute a comprehensive record of ancient oceans, deserts, and tectonic upheavals.
The Grand Canyon is not only a visual spectacle but also a place of cultural and ecological importance. It has been home to Native American tribes, including the Havasupai and Hopi, for thousands of years, and their histories are woven into the land. Today, it is protected as a national park, attracting millions of visitors who come to hike, raft, or simply gaze in wonder at its grandeur. The canyon's diverse ecosystems support a variety of wildlife, from bighorn sheep to the elusive California condor, adding to its rich tapestry of life.
This image serves as a powerful reminder of nature's ability to shape the world over eons, offering a moment of reflection on our place within such vastness. Whether viewed as a geological masterpiece or a spiritual haven, the Grand Canyon continues to inspire and humble all who encounter it. I know that I was humbled by its beauty and grandeur.
If you like these articles about photographs and their subjects, leave a comment.
Grandiose Majesty
Taken in May of 2025, this striking black and white photograph captures the awe-inspiring grandiose majesty of the Grand Canyon in a way that feels both timeless and haunting. The image centers on a solitary, gnarled tree standing defiantly on the canyon's edge, its twisted branches reaching out to the harsh Arizona sun against the vast, rugged landscape. The tree, weathered by years of harsh desert conditions, serves as a poignant symbol of resilience amidst the canyon's unrelenting expanse.
The Grand Canyon itself is the true star of this composition, its layered rock formations stretching into the distance, carved over millions of years by the relentless force of the Colorado River. The photograph's perspective highlights the dramatic depth and scale of the canyon, with sheer cliffs dropping away into shadowy depths, revealing the geological history etched into every stratum. This natural wonder is a testament to the power of erosion and time, drawing millions of visitors each year to marvel at its breathtaking vistas. I know that I stood there in awe.
This image evokes a sense of solitude and contemplation, inviting viewers to reflect on the vastness of nature and humanity's small place within it. The Grand Canyon's iconic status is reinforced here, not just as a scenic marvel but as a living record of Earth's ancient past. Whether you're a seasoned photographer or simply an admirer of natural beauty, this photograph encapsulates the raw, untamed spirit of one of the world's most remarkable landmarks. #GrandCanyon #Photography #Nature #BlackAndWhite #Landscape
The Vermillion Cliffs
The Vermilion Cliffs, located in northern Arizona near the Utah border, are a geological masterpiece that captivate with their vibrant colors and dramatic landscapes. Stretching across the Colorado Plateau, the second step of five, this 294,000-acre national monument, established in 2000, showcases towering sandstone formations, deep canyons, and intricate rock patterns that have been sculpted by millions of years of erosion and geological activity.
The Vermilion Cliffs, located in northern Arizona near the Utah border, are a geological masterpiece that captivate with their vibrant colors and dramatic landscapes. Stretching across the Colorado Plateau, the second step of five, this 294,000-acre national monument, established in 2000, showcases towering sandstone formations, deep canyons, and intricate rock patterns that have been sculpted by millions of years of erosion and geological activity.
The Cliffs embody raw, untamed beauty, blending geological grandeur with a serene, almost spiritual calm. Their vibrant colors, sculpted forms, and vast scale remind visitors of nature’s power and artistry. Whether viewed from a distance or explored up close, the cliffs leave an indelible impression—a testament to the timeless beauty of Arizona’s wild heart.
I’m sure my beautiful wife could talk extensively about it in scientific terms, diving into the geological forces that shaped these wonders, but for me, it’s all about capturing nature’s beauty. The cliffs do not disappoint! Standing before these towering formations, you feel the weight of time in every curve and hue—reds that blaze at sunrise, purples that deepen at dusk, and textures that beg to be framed. Every angle is a new story, a new moment of awe.
This shot was taken with the legendary #Zeiss #Ikon #SuperIkonta 531/2 on #Kentmere100 #blackandwhite #film, developed in #510Pyro. The monochromatic tones bring out the cliffs’ raw textures, from the smooth undulations of The Wave to the jagged edges of Paria Canyon. There’s something magical about shooting film here—it forces you to slow down, to truly see the landscape, to wait for that perfect interplay of light and shadow. The Vermilion Cliffs demand patience, but they reward it tenfold with views that feel like they belong to another world.
If you’ve ever been to the cliffs or dreamed of visiting, share your stories! What’s your favorite way to capture nature’s beauty? #VermilionCliffs #ArizonaAdventures #FilmPhotography #NatureLovers
The Ravens Call
I heard him before I saw him—a low, guttural croak that sent a shiver down my spine. Turning, I caught a glimpse of glossy black feathers as the raven landed behind me, its eyes glinting like polished obsidian. With a single, mocking call, it took flight, soaring into the endless blue sky, leaving me alone with the echo of its voice. My grandfather, a lost son of the Cherokee nation, used to speak of the raven as if it were more than a bird—a mysterious shape-shifter, a trickster not to be pursued. His stories, told by firelight, wove a tapestry of awe and caution, his voice low as if the raven might overhear.
To the Cherokee, the raven is a messenger, carrying the voices of ancestors across the veil. The Navajo, too, speak of ravens guiding lost souls, but their tales come with a warning: follow a raven too far, and you may cross into the spirit world, where time unravels and the air hums with voices that linger in your bones. One misstep, and you might never return to the living realm. Grandpa once told of a hunter who chased a raven’s call through a foggy woodland, only to find his shadow walking beside him, no longer tethered to his form. That story stayed with me, a quiet chill in the back of my mind.
The elders say when a raven perches, silent and staring, its gaze heavy with knowing, you must leave an offering—cornmeal, tobacco, a whispered prayer. For the raven does not forget, its memory as long as the rivers that carve the earth. Ignore it, and you risk its wrath. Its wings, they say, can cast a shadow that swallows you whole, drawing you into a realm where light fades and the world feels wrong. My grandfather warned of a woman who scoffed at a raven’s stare, only to vanish into the night, her footprints ending where the bird had perched.
Do I believe these tales? No, not in the way the elders did. I’m a man of reason, more at home with my Sony A7Cii than with spirits and shadows. But standing there, the raven’s croak still ringing in my ears, I felt something—an unease, a pull, like the bird knew more than I ever would. Respect it, I say. Leave it be. Offer a nod to its mystery and walk away. The raven doesn’t need your belief to hold its power; it demands only that you don’t tempt its gaze.
Shot on the Sony A7Cii with a vintage Minolta lens, capturing the fleeting moment that raven pierced the silence. The photograph is raw, like the stories themselves. What do you think? Ever felt a raven’s eyes on you, or heard its call in the quiet? Share your stories below. #Sony #A7Cii #Minolta #Konica #RavenTales
Episode 2 - Blind Photographer
In this episode of Blind Photography, I discuss the intersection between going blind and having a fervent love for photography. As my eyesight dwindles into emptiness, like on old cathode ray tube tv being turned off for the last time.
I also discuss photographing the Grand Canyon and Bryce Canyon on a recent camping trip. And, of course, I talk about the cameras I used on the trip and the lessons I learned along with way. The Vito IIa has become a tool I use to capture the world, not as I see it but as I hope it to look like.
In this episode of Blind Photography, I take some time to discuss what has been happening in our lives here in the stunningly beautiful and vast state of Arizona. I delve deeply into the experience of becoming legally blind and the myriad aftereffects that accompany such a significant life change. The support I have received from my family, friends, and strangers has truly surpassed anything that society itself has offered in terms of assistance and understanding. The fact that I am now legally blind is something that cannot be understated—it has reshaped my entire world. My cane, much like my phone, has become an essential tool that accompanies me everywhere I go, helping me navigate this new chapter in my life.
I want to pose a thought-provoking question to you, my audience: If your family and/or loved ones had to choose three meaningful things to place in a box that truly represent who you are, what do you think they would select?
After catching up on the realities of being blind, I transitioned into an exciting discussion about cameras, film, photography, and our little vacation to the breathtaking Grand Canyon, as well as our visit to the stunning Bryce Canyon in Utah. Of course, I took along the Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta with me; that camera chewed through medium format film faster than I could load it! I also brought my Proud Chrome Six, which I will be reviewing soon, and my beloved Voigtlander Vito IIa, an essential tool that has become nearly indispensable for this blind photographer.
I may not need to see the exposure settings, but I can feel the reassuring clicks and know precisely where the shutter speed and aperture settings are. I set it to infinity for most of my work, cock the shutter, and press the button. While it may not boast the best lens in the world, it is indeed fantastic for its time and does a remarkable job for a four-element lens.
In next week's episode, my lovely wife, Deana, will be joining me to answer some funny questions about what life is like with a blind man, or rather, her blind husband. It promises to be a wonderfully entertaining episode. If you have not subscribed to our channel already, I encourage you to do so! We have some incredibly exciting news coming your way soon that you won't want to miss.
Walk by faith, not by sight
In this article, I discuss the trials of using a white cane, i.e. blind cane. I discuss O&M training and adjusting to using the cane in public, the greatest test of all.
Over a year ago, I did Orientation and Mobility training through the state. My O&M instructor and I walked for miles over several sessions, listening to traffic, learning routes, and learning how to navigate large intersections whilst being blind/visually impaired and using a cane. I listening to everything he said, followed his instructions, and advanced quickly. After a while, I could come and go with confidence. Keeping some form of independence is incredibly important. It is not always easy and can be very dangerous, but it is what we do. Blind people walk by faith, not by sight. The anxiety level that makes your heart pound the first time you step off the curb and across the road doesn’t go away. It is faith in God that gets me across a busy intersection.
I was using my cane every day, mainly to traverse rough terrain. When we moved, I stopped using it all the time. My vision has gotten a lot worse since we moved out here. I’ve avoided using the cane, as it implies that I’m completely blind. Roughly only 10% of blind people are completely blind. The rest of us see something. I have been blind in my left eye all of my life due to Septo-Optic Dysplasia. Several years ago, I started going blind in my right eye due to the same reason, but mainly due to Optic Atrophy caused by it. My vision has gotten so bad that I only have around 20 degrees of peripheral vision. Try to cover up your left eye and then try to look through a straw with your right eye. Then, try to do a normal task.
I am now fully embracing the use of the cane full time, and it has become an indispensable companion for navigating my daily adventures. I rely on it to get to work and to explore various spots around town. The great thing about living in Payson, Arizona, is that it’s a charming small town, and nearly everything is conveniently close by. My workplace is situated just a mile away from home, making my daily commute quite manageable. Additionally, my favorite coffee shop is only about half a mile from my doorstep, which I cherish for my morning pick-me-ups. I used to enjoy riding my electric bike, but unfortunately, it became increasingly risky for me to do so.
Speaking of that charming little coffee shop, I genuinely shocked everyone the very first time I walked in with my trusty cane in hand. I could faintly hear people chatting away from outside, all buzzing with conversation, but as soon as I stepped inside, an eerie quietness enveloped the space, as if the world had paused just for me. You could hear a pin drop, and I felt smaller by the second. I quickly ordered my usual coffee and then left, leaving behind the hushed stares. I wanted to use this experience as a notable example of the common person's reaction to my presence. I’m not dead, and I’m certainly not dying…at least not today!
If you “See” someone with a blind cane, don’t say, “I’m Sorry”. It’s OK. I’m walking with a smile. Say, “Hello”.
Don’t cry, please. That helps no one. I’m losing my sight. It sucks, but I’m going to kick blindness’ butt! And, Jesus Loves Me…and You!
Don’t ask me how I’m feeling. How are you feeling today? I’m not depressed. It’s all good. I’m just glad to be here.
A blind cane is a tool. Ask me about the cane. They make hundreds of different canes and tips to go on it. I’m a nerd, it’s true. Just like Voice Over on my iPhone, the cane assist me in getting from point A to point B. It is incredibly simple but incredibly helpful. I can feel every crack, crevice, pot hole, and gradient change. I don’t have depth perception, so when the grade changes, I need to know about it! Otherwise, I go for a tumble. Ask me how I know.
Adjusting to life with a cane takes some time. The O&M instructors teach us how to not get hit by a car, but they don’t teach us how to deal with the day to day interactions and crazy drivers. There are so many great people that offer to give me a ride or offer to get me across the street safely that any bad interactions with people are obliterated by kindness.
As I was on my way home today, I was told in a gut (GOD) sort of way to slow down and stop. So, I was able to see a car pulling out at an intersection. I almost walked around the car and on down the sidewalk. Within a few seconds, the car pulled out and a truck, hauling a trailer behind it, had to slam on its brakes to avoid the car. It almost jackknifed and the trailer ran up onto the sidewalk where I would have been walking. I didn’t see the entire incident, obviously, it was all a blur, once I heard the screeching brakes and turned and managed to focus, it was over with. Luckily, no one got hurt, but if I had not listened, I could’ve been killed or seriously injured. Trust your gut.
This blog will continue to be about photography but also the adventure of going blind.
My wonderful wife, Deana’s Creative Studio, is the reason I am able to get up each morning with a smile and look forward to the day ahead. She truly is such a kind, compassionate, and amazing Christian woman, and I feel incredibly blessed to call her my wife. She is not just my partner; she is also my greatest supporter and helper in all things. I remember jokingly mentioning while we were dating that one day she’d have to lead me around by my arm due to my vision changing. It’s unfortunate that my light-hearted joke is now coming to fruition, but thankfully, she doesn’t have to do it very often at all. Love you so much, Deana! :)
Snowstorm in Payson, AZ
The snowstorm in Payson, Arizona, blankets the landscape in a crisp, white serenity that transforms familiar views into a magical winter wonderland. As delicate flakes swirl around, each unique and short lived, I capture the stillness and quietness of the moment. A snowstorm is like a blanket from heaven, glistening as it spins and falls from heaven, perfection and beauty in motion.
A few weeks ago, we received a few inches of snow in our charming town of Payson, AZ. It was a truly beautiful sight to behold and much badly needed for our parched landscape. In a normal year, we can expect to receive around three feet of snow in a typical winter season, but this time around, we’ve only had the one little storm so far. We all hope and pray that we will receive more snow and moisture in general as the winter progresses. This precipitation not only keeps the fire risks down but also makes life significantly easier and more enjoyable in the high desert environment. Being nestled at 5,000 feet, snow and bone-chilling temperatures are quite the norm during the winters here, creating a winter wonderland that we can't help but appreciate!
As I mentioned earlier, I am originally from the state of South Carolina. Most people tend to assume that we don’t receive any snow there at all, but the truth is that they do get snow from time to time. They typically experience only a few inches each year, but every few years, they are fortunate enough to be graced by a real blizzard. The snow here in Arizona is much lighter and fluffier in comparison, presenting such beauty and perfection as it falls from heaven. It resembles a soft blanket gently settling onto the earth. When it glistens in the rare moments of sunlight, it feels like a precious gift from God and it is.
Luckily, I was off of work the day of the snow and was able to play in it all day. I grabbed my Sony A7Cii, a few lenses, and the Voigtlander Vito IIa and had a blast shooting the snow and nature at the park. The ducks and geese were having a blast waddling around in the snow. As I was capturing the beauty and stillness of the moment, I realized how lucky I was to be able to see such a beautiful scene. I may never see another snow storm, but I am grateful to God that I was able to see this one. We didn’t get that much, and it didn’t hang around long, but it was beautiful while it was here.
Minolta Maxxum 100-300mm lens w/ Sony LA EA5 Adapter
In this short review of the Minolta Maxxum APO 100-300mm f/4.5-5.6 lens, I discuss how well it works on newer mirrorless cameras with the LA EA5 adapter. I also provide sample photographs.
When I arrived home from work today, I grabbed the Sony A7Cii, the LA EA5 adapter that I discussed yesterday, and a Minolta Maxxum 100-300 f/4.5-5.6 lens. I headed down to the lakes at Green Valley Park in the hopes of photographing some wildlife. There were a lot of people out walking their dogs. The ducks were very photogenic. As I was walking around the lake in the hope of catching something somewhat wild, I discovered the same great blue heron that I had photographed on Wednesday.
The heron was standing regal, facing into the wind. He ignored me for the most part, perhaps because we had met before. He stood there for a bit, turning for me to get a good shot. The Sony A7cii has character recognition. It can detect animals and birds and their eyes. It is amazing how well it works. I took a $20 lens that you can purchase on ebay and got some amazing results. It does suffer from chromatic aberation, but most lenses from the 80’s do have this issue. In fact, some brand new lenses suffer from it.
You can spend $1500 and get sharper results, but why would you do that unless you’re shooting wildlife all the time and make money from it? It’s a logical question, right? I have all of these old AF Minolta A-mount lenses from the 80’s and 90’s. Why not make use of them. Some are better than others, of course, but they work surprisingly well with the new adapter. For any of you with a fairly new Sony mirrorless camera, get the adapter and a few A-mount lenses. You will not be disappointed. Below you’ll find a sample gallery from today’s shoot.
Sony LA EA5 Adapter
Last week, I ordered a LA EA4 adapter after doing a considerable amount of research about the five different E to A Mount adapters that Sony has offered over the years. These adapters are used to adapt older Sony and Minolta A-Mount lenses to modern Sony E mount mirrorless cameras. The first few iterations were clunky and the autofocus was slow. After doing a bit of research, I ordered the LA EA4 adapter. It arrived on Tuesday. When I got off of work, I peddled home in a hurry to discover to my horror that after waiting a week for the treasure, it turned out to not be supported for my camera, the Sony A7cii.
I put it on the camera, along with an A-mount lens that was supported by the adapter and nothing. I could adjust the aperture, but I could not get auto focus to work. I did more digging and discovered on Sony’s Japanese website that the LA EA4 is no longer supported and would not work on my camera. So, I disappointingly packed it back up and processed the return with Amazon. Once that was done, I ordered the LA EA5 adapter, which is cheaper and is supported on my camera and older ones.
It arrived yesterday, and to my incredible excitement, it actually worked like a charm! The great thing about the 5 over the 4 is that it doesn’t have a translucent mirror used for focusing, which means that all the beautiful light streaming through the lens hits the sensor directly without any interruption. I eagerly put a few of my favorite lenses on it, and to my delight, it worked seamlessly with each of them. Even better, the EXIF data transferred over perfectly as well, making the whole experience even more satisfying.
Early this morning, I headed down to Green Valley Park with the camera, the adapter, and a Minolta 35-70mm f/4 macro lens. The lens isn’t fast, but it is very versatile and a macro to boot. The lens is sharp and the autofocus, although not as fast as a native lens, is fast enough for what I do. I had a great time shooting with this lens and using autofocus. The subject recognition in the Sony A7cii does work through the older lenses. I had it on Animal/Bird, and it recognized a Great Blue Herons eyes and the subject. The autofocus is a little noisy compared to modern lenses, but for photography work, it is great. I will be taking the 70-200mm f/4 beer can lens out tomorrow to test it.
Thus far, I am incredibly happy with the performance of this adapter and the lenses used that I already have. This little adapter will save me thousands of dollars, and that, ladies and gentleman, is of the utmost importance. You can buy these old A mount lenses for pennies on the dollar compared to their native new counterparts. There are a few photographs below for your enjoyment. I could not get too close to the heron with a maximum range of 70mm. What are your thoughts on these adapters?
Peach Orchard Loop
Hiking the Peach Orchard Loop in the Tonto National Forest is an exhilarating adventure that awakens the senses. The trail weaves through the mountains and up them to a ridge and fire road.
When I got up this morning, I realized that I had the day off. I have been thinking about going hiking since we moved to Payson, Arizona, but I never seemed to have the time when I felt like going. Today, I decided I was going. Deana went off to work, so there was no reason I should not go. It was a beautiful day with some rare warm winds up here at 5,000 feet.
At present, I don’t have any autofocus lenses for the Sony A7C ii. So, looked over my m42 and k-mount lenses. What I’d love to have is a 24-70mm f/2.8 lens, but I don’t have that kind of money to throw around. I settled on a 1980’s Soligor 35-70mm f/2.5-3.5 variable aperture zoom lens. It’ is a lens that I have tested. It is not as sharp as a new lens, but for its age and uniqueness as having a macro extension tube built in, it’s a great little versatile lens.
I grabbed that trusty camera and lens combo, along with an extra Pentax 28mm f/3.5 lens as a backup just in case, and headed eagerly out the door. I hopped on my XP 3.0 Lectric bike and sped down the paved road to the trail head, which was conveniently located across the street from the beautiful Payson Golf Course. I had not yet explored this particular trail, so I had to rely on the All Trails app for information about the loop and its various features along the way.
As I started my adventurous journey down the fire road/trail, I couldn’t help but laugh at how easy this loop seemed to be thus far, which led me to believe that I’d be home in time for a delicious lunch. The views surrounding me were breathtaking, and they were absolutely well worth the hike, making every step feel rewarding. However, in a moment of distraction, I missed my turn and accidentally ventured an extra quarter mile down the fire road before the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. After a brief moment, I backtracked and managed to get back on the intended trail. Yet, within just a few hundred feet of finally arriving on the trail, I quickly realized it wouldn’t be so easy after all. The fire roads are comprised of gravel and are generally easily traversed, but I had a feeling my adventure was just beginning!
The trail that cuts between the fire roads is extreme. All trails stated that it was moderate. Sure, the rest of the trail is moderate, but the very steep incline halfway through the loop is extreme. I used to hike three times a week with people younger than me and army rangers, but this trail would be a struggle for them. I’m older now and a bit out of shape. The “Trail” was literally a wall of rock and dirt that I had to gradually crawl up.
The ascent of the steep incline took an hour, but the panoramic views ultimately justified the effort. I was astounded by the extent of my visual acuity, even in my state of blindness, and the distance I had traveled from the town. Despite the exhaustion, I found myself in a state of laughter and exhilaration. I had conquered a mountain, experiencing solitude, divine presence, and the profound beauty of nature. The ceaseless hum of Main Street, the dazzling lights, and the relentless roar of passing cars were mere echoes in the valley below. I stood there, momentarily overwhelmed with gratitude for the gift of sight and the splendor of our world. While some may perceive this place as mere sand, brush, withered trees, and barren mountains, I see it as a living, breathing entity brimming with life, beauty, and the awe-inspiring Majesty of God.
After catching my breath, I headed down another fire road that traverses the ridge and leads back down to the trail head. It was getting late and I was getting sore, so it took me a little bit. I did make it home in time to meet Deana for lunch and enjoy each others company. The loop was supposed to take an hour and a half. It took me 2:40. Mind you, I stopped a lot to take photographs. I ended up hiking 3.4 miles around the loop, given I had missed a turn and had to turn back.
I will pay for my adventures tomorrow, but it was worth it. Spending time in nature is important, and it is good exercise. And, I got some amazing photographs out of it. There will be a gallery below. Please give them a look and let me know what you think about my adventure and the photography.
New Year, New Hope
Deana and Jefferson Davis arriving in Arizona on July 7th, 2024.
2024 began with a heavy sense of despair and overwhelming shock as I discovered that I am going blind far faster than I had anticipated. After the initial shock wore off, I managed to regain my footing in both work and daily life, we made the important decision to sell our beloved home while the market was still favorable. We decided to take a much-needed break in April to celebrate our anniversary, which allowed us to recharge our spirits and get back to work with renewed energy. It took a little while, but eventually, we successfully sold our home and embarked on the long, exciting journey across the country to the magnificent and sun-soaked state of Arizona.
Traveling across country in a Subaru with three dogs and a trailer was an adventure. We had a great time crossing the states, seeing parts of the US I had never seen before. We stopped in Oklahoma to spend Independence Day with family. That was an amazing week. My hope for our country and our people was renewed. We decided to set up home in Payson, Arizona, an amazing little mountain town in central Arizona. The natives here don’t usually say, Y’all or drink sweet tea like they do in my home state of South Carolina, but they are so similar. Folks here love and practice the Second Amendment. They wear cowboy hats and boots. A lot of men wear sidearms. It is a great little town, but due to being surrounded by National Forest and migration from California and rich people from the Valley, housing prices are extremely high. The housing market in Payson is higher than the majority of the state.
We were hoping the the housing prices would come down more than they have, but due to reasons already noted, prices are not going down. There is a limited supply and the wealthy retirement community do not want any more houses being built here. I have been preliminarily offered a job in Cottonwood, AZ, so we are moving there in a few months. We love Payson, but Cottonwood is an amazing town as well. The people and culture are very similar to Payson, and it is closer to the breathtakingly beautiful areas of Sedona and Prescott. The fantastic benefit is that housing is cheaper in Cottonwood and Camp Verde. Also, fires will not be an ever-present threat. Even though we are in the throws of winter in Payson, we still have a major fire nearby. There are possibilities of fires to the west in Camp Verde and Cottonwood, but the likelihood is rare.
The incredible amount of great people we have encountered in our journey moving to this beautiful place is truly uncountable. We have forged some amazing friendships here through our church and work, and each connection adds a vibrant thread to the fabric of our lives. The greatest resource in America is not just its land, oil, or coal, but rather its people, who are full of warmth and character. The vast majority of Americans are deeply patriotic and possess a profound love for our country. Spending cherished time with my family in Oklahoma taught me so much about our nation and the enduring love and respect that we should all strive to have for it.
Whether you agree or not, the surprising election victory of Donald Trump revealed to me that the people still have a powerful voice, and we indeed possess the ability to effect meaningful change in our society. It also filled me with a renewed sense of hope that the old adage, “If you work hard, you can have anything,” continues to hold true for the most part. There truly is hope. There is always hope, even in the most unexpected places. I never imagined that I would ever find someone who would love me, much less marry me; yet here I am, happily sitting at my desk across from my beautiful wife, Deana, who is currently engrossed in her scrapbooking project. You can read more about her scrapbooking, bible journaling, and life on her blog linked here.
It is with great excitement that I approach this new year. 2025 will be a great year, one for the books. We will be moving, starting life anew, and making even more friends. We the people will have a new president as of January 20th. The housing market is projected to transition to a buyers market this year. Companies will invest more with the hope of lower taxes. That, along with less regulation, will help us all and improve the economy.
This new year also provides a great opportunity to photograph more than I did this year. There were several months in 2024 that I didn’t get to photograph due to packing up, moving, and then unpacking, so I am exciting about starting new projects and restarting the zine once we get settled. What are you excited about in 2025?
