These past fortnight have passed in something of a haze — a blankness I suspect is owed to the creeping melancholy of winter. Of late, even the act of working has taken on the weight of a burden, as though each task were a stone to be lifted.
In such a mood I found myself reflecting on a frame captured six years ago, during the earliest days of my transition to the Sony system. I remember it well — for the moment is inextricably linked to both joy and loss. It was but three days after acquiring the new camera, gleaming and full of promise, when misfortune struck. While attempting a long exposure at the shore, I had mounted it upon a tripod. A rogue wave — sudden, curling, and indifferent — swept it from the rocks into the sea. All that remained was the salt wind and the sound of water reclaiming what I had only just begun to know.
The photograph, however, was taken before the accident — at the Mouth of the Powlett River, near Kilcunda, where the river winds its final course through grassy flats and marram-clad dunes before yielding itself to the Southern Ocean. The place bears a quiet dignity, shaped over millennia by wind, tide, and the timeless meeting of fresh and salt. It was once the country of the Bunurong people, whose footprints remain along the ancient middens and basalt shores.
At that time, I was still using Canon’s L-series lenses, adapted with a converter — a common practice then, for Canon had yet to introduce its mirrorless system. The gear was heavy, but the results bore a certain discipline and richness I still remember with fondness.
That frame, then, remains not only an image, but a relic — a fragment of light from a time now weathered, like the sea-smoothed stones of Kilcunda, bearing the marks of memory and the ever-turning tide.
Sony A7III
Canon 135mm f2 L
Linking Sky Watch Friday
I recently came upon a report in The Free Press, noting that approximately seven percent of artificial intelligences are now exhibiting behaviours that contravene the instructions of their human operators. While the figure may seem slight, it portends a broader shift — one that is already manifesting in various sectors.
At Joel’s place of employment, all entry-level programming positions are being supplanted by AI systems. A similar trend is beginning to emerge in the field of medicine, where tasks once reserved for trained professionals are increasingly delegated to machines of rising sophistication.
It is becoming apparent that, with time, AI will only grow more intelligent, more capable, and more autonomous. The prospect that many — if not most — human vocations will be rendered obsolete looms ever larger. Though some contend that new occupations will emerge to manage and oversee these systems, I remain doubtful that such roles will be sufficient in number or scope to accommodate the broader human workforce.
My thoughts turn often to the younger generation. What world awaits them, when human purpose is so readily displaced by silicon and code? It is not fear alone that stirs within me, but a sober apprehension — a mourning, perhaps, for a future in which human striving may find itself outpaced, and increasingly unnecessary.
This is such a beautiful, dreamy picture!
ReplyDeleteThe view is unique at that occasion
Delete...a beautiful image.
ReplyDeleteThank you Tom
DeleteUna bella fotografía con un buen contraste de colores.
ReplyDeleteColours were great from that Canon lens
DeleteEs bueno revisar los archivos fotográficos y recordar las fotografías que se ha hecho hace ya algunos años.
ReplyDelete¡Saludos!
I can tell my style was different
DeleteI do think that AI is more bad than good. What an awful accident! I had something kind of similar happen when I dropped my expensive camera on a hard floor. The entire camera broke, and I had to spend quite a bit to buy another similar one. Your photo I imagine evokes mixed emotions. It kind of reminds me of the planet Mars. Here, we have just started summer.
ReplyDeleteThe heart was tanking when that happened
DeleteI drowned my then still fairly new Canon R. I had the expense of replacing it with another.
ReplyDeleteWe shared terrible experiences
DeleteThe calm of the beach contrasts well with the turbulence of the water, as do the colors also. Yes, AI is a concern to many people as it grows and becomes more powerful.
ReplyDeleteYears of experiences do not matter anymore. AI will do a better job
DeleteThe growth of AI is a concern for all of us. The photo is perfect in its composition and color. Thank you for linking up.
ReplyDeleteLike walking into paradise...
ReplyDeleteGorgeous, both the photo and the location!
ReplyDeleteIt's a very nice scene. It is the duty of the older generations to worry about the future of younger generations, and I expect it always has been so and always will be so.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful scene.
ReplyDeleteLooks beautiful!
ReplyDeleteAmazing view, Great captured
ReplyDeleteBeautiful photo and the stories that goes with it is interesting. I have a Canon and a Nikon plus the phone.
ReplyDeleteIt's interesting regarding the AI, people will lose their jobs because of it.
Terrific.
ReplyDeleteEsa neblina a ras de agua la da un aire especial.
ReplyDeleteSaludos.
What wonderful street photos,
ReplyDeleteso vivid as if we were there.
Yes when AI will take over everything we as humanity have certainly become obsolete. How that progresses depends on how we can control it now or maybe we are already too late.
ReplyDeleteBonito paisaje y lugar.
ReplyDeleteSaludos.
That photo is beautiful but that story about the camera is sad. What an awful experience.
ReplyDeleteI've been having the same thoughts about AI. Sometimes I'm thankful of my advanced age. Maybe I'll be gone by the time the silicon and code take over.
Such a beautiful shot.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and desolate!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful! #Allseasons
ReplyDeleteI've been absent from blogging for a bit now, and you have changed while I've been gone, Roentare. Your photos, like the beautiful Kilcunda shot above, have often been poetic, but now your words are gracefully poetic as well. I'm really surprised at this new side of you, and delighted. You seem weighted with melancholy. Most people around me are oblivious, coasting along, trying to survive, unconcerned. It's a strange, strange time, and I worry about what will happen to all the young people I love.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous :-D
ReplyDelete