Second, a large aperture allows for faster shutter speeds. If your aperture is too small, you may end up with a blurry subject, for example if you are trying to photograph an animal in the wild. Even if you do your best to avoid camera shake, your subject will not be in focus if it is moving too fast for your shutter speed, and when the subject is an animal, we are often trying to capture moments that will never return. In these situations, a wide aperture like F2.8 means you can shoot at faster shutter speeds and worry less about motion blur. And when you don’t need the faster shutter speeds, the wide aperture allows you to lower the ISO sensitivity. This is the third benefit: a wider aperture leads to better image quality. When I take photographs, I think not only about how to capture my subjects, but also how to achieve the best possible image quality. In order to take great photographs, it is important to consider which aspects depend solely on the equipment and which aspects are within the photographer's control.

One thing we cannot overlook when talking about the bokeh capabilities of photographic lenses is the minimum focusing distance. In general, the shorter the distance between your lens and your subject, the more you can blur the background. Together, the maximum aperture and minimum focusing distance affect the overall size of the bokeh. In fact, whether a lens produces good bokeh can depend almost entirely on its minimum focusing distance. At just 12.1cm at the wide end, the SIGMA 18-50mm F2.8 DC DN | Contemporary offers an exceptionally short minimum focusing distance. The working distance (the distance between the front lens element and the closest focusing point) is actually only 2.7cm, allowing you to focus on subjects closer than the tip of the removable lens hood. The combination of a bright maximum aperture of F2.8 and a minimum focusing distance of 12.1cm makes the SIGMA 18-50mm F2.8 DC DN | Contemporary an ideal bokeh lens.
As I walked through the woods, I often aimed my lens at the ground around me to shoot close to its minimum focusing distance, noticing details I otherwise tend to miss. After all my years as a photographer, I again felt the excitement of seeing different objects appear in the viewfinder and discovering them anew as photographic subjects. At the minimum focusing distance, the lens produces a considerable amount of background blur, and just by changing my framing a little, I was able to create photographs with completely different atmospheres. I tried many different variations for each subject and situation, and time just flew by as I kept shooting. What I mean to say is that this lens makes the simple act of taking photographs fun.

When I photograph in Hokkaido, I leave the house before the break of dawn and walk slowly through the forests and marshes, along the sea, or where I decide to go that day. I don’t have a specific subject in mind, such as an animal or a particular moment. Instead, I try to feel the vitality of life in this remote part of the world, discover the vast beauty that nature creates with each new season, and simply allow myself to experience the rays of light that arrive here from the sun.
When I photograph in this way, I narrow my focus when searching for subjects. By narrowing my search, I may limit my choice of subjects, but at the same time I increase my sensitivity and ability to notice subtle details.
Similarly, a standard zoom lens provides a great balance – it is versatile but not so omnipotent that it can do everything. It helps you focus. It goes without saying that the diversity and vastness of nature is beyond the power of any single lens, even a zoom lens. But that is why there are so many different types of interchangeable lenses, from zooms to primes to wide-angles, telephotos, macros, and so on. When I go out into nature, I often have a number of different lenses in my backpack. But regardless of the power of my equipment, I always keep the following mantra in mind: “Take your time, don’t be greedy, and follow your sensibilities!” Perhaps I have come to think this way because I divide my life between two very different environments, the urban landscape of Tokyo and the untouched nature of Hokkaido… but who knows?