So there I was, sitting at the computer on a bright and beautiful southern California morning, writing about the exercises and assignments I invent to make myself go take pictures. All the while, I could hear a hawk screaming, and I finally decided to go into the back yard and see where it was.
The sound guided me toward the back of the yard, near the chicken coop. Looking across the fence to my right, I saw a hawk – maybe a red shouldered – in a neighbor’s sycamore tree. “It’s pretty far away,” I thought, “but maybe I should grab a camera.”
“Nah, I should get back to work.”
I went back into the house, sat down at the computer and started typing. But the hawk kept calling. Feeling guilty writing about not taking pictures while I was stubbornly not taking pictures, I decided to take some pictures. I attached the Nikon 70-200 f2.8 lens to my D300 and shuffled out back, knowing I wouldn’t get anything because of the distance and the branches and the light and the blah blah blah.
Lo and behold, when I returned to my position by the chicken coop, the situation had changed:
I cannot show the other images in the series, because this is a family blog, and actually, they’re not good photos, what with the branches and the distance and blah blah blah. But then, while I was standing in a clump of Watsonia fulgens, peering through the zoom at the hawks in the sycamore, I heard a loud humming sound by my left ear.
As is so often the case, when I ventured forth, the photos came to me.
When young couples tell me they are talking about having a baby, I usually respond that talking is not how you get them. I guess the moral of today’s story is that one doesn’t get photos by writing about not taking photos.
Sometimes, you just have to listen for a good image.