June 28, 2026

Birds, Blooms and a Vintage Lens

The other day I wandered down to the local botanic gardens. No grand plan—just felt like getting out for some fresh air. I wasn’t on a serious photo mission, but I took my camera anyway. Who goes for a walk without a camera anyway?

Since I wasn’t planning anything too ambitious, I packed a not-so-serious lens. Not serious—but definitely an interesting one.

I picked it up a few years ago from an antique shop for just $65. As you’d imagine, that’s laughably cheap for a camera lens. It was made in Japan sometime in the 1980s and, amazingly, it still looks almost brand new. What’s even more impressive is that modern Nikon DSLRs still use the same lens mount as Nikon’s film cameras from the ’70s and ’80s, so these old lenses click straight on without any fuss.

So what made this lens catch my eye? It’s a Tamron SP 60–300mm f/3.8–5.4 Adaptall-2 Model 23A.

The Japanese set out to build an all-round lens for exactly the sort of walk where you might want to photograph birds one minute and flowers the next. For birds, you need a telephoto lens—and this Tamron certainly fits the bill. At 300mm, it brings distant subjects roughly six times closer.

Flowers, on the other hand, usually call for a macro lens, which is a completely different beast. But here’s the clever bit: with one smooth twist, the Tamron switches from telephoto mode into macro mode. And it’s all done mechanically. There’s not a single electronic component inside—just beautifully engineered Japanese glass and steel.

Of course, there’s always a catch.

For starters, the thing weighs a ton—or close enough. About a kilo, in fact. Secondly, it’s completely manual. Forget autofocus, image stabilisation or electronic aperture control. Everything has to be adjusted by hand. Every single thing. In macro mode, focusing isn’t even done with the focus ring—you move the whole camera closer or further away from your subject, just like using a magnifying glass.

Then there’s Lightroom. It doesn’t have a profile for this lens, so distortion and chromatic aberration have to be corrected manually as well. In short, you need to know what you’re doing.

Fortunately, I do.

But if you take the time to get to know this old lens, it rewards you with wonderfully sharp, vibrant photos that have a character modern lenses just can’t quite replicate. Every now and then I take it out for a walk, and every time I’m reminded why I keep it around. The image quality is fantastic, and there’s this subtle vintage charm that gives the photos a look all their own.

See for yourself.