Last Updated on August 25, 2018 by PowersToTravel
I’ll not mention the names, that they may remain anonymous.
It’s really about a difference of goals.
I travel because I want to see new things, generally natural things, such as Mountains, or Beaches. I prefer them wide-open and empty. I could go so far as to say I like them tree-less too. This gives me a feeling of openness and freedom, as if I could spread my arms forever and not become cramped.
Visiting small towns in these rugged areas is also exciting because I imagine what it must be like to actually live here, without the Malls and Technology Parks, and without the Stadiums and Box Stores. They also often have cheap souvenirs, which in itself is another story. Tea towels and magnets are the key goals here.
And then, I enjoy the photography because I want so very much to take that feeling home. I want to capture the huge sky and the cragginess of the mountains. I don’t want a awkward snapshot of myself next to a signpost, I want the best possible photograph, so that when I look at the picture, I remember the feeling exactly. So, even if the day wasn’t sunny, or the fog socked us in, I take pictures. One of my relatives calls them ‘Record shots’. But it’s not for the record, it’s to capture the feeling.
I frequently say, “I enjoy traveling with Photographers”, because they take it slower than the rest of the world. The trip doesn’t go by in a blur. I can soak in the experiences.
These relatives of mine travel because they compete in Photography. Points are to be scored, and pictures are to be hoarded for the competitions for the rest of the year. That doesn’t explain why they enjoy photography. One of the reasons I’m sure is the pleasure in seeing nature in a different light, seeing it from a unique viewpoint.
But, Photography is not easy. There are F-stops, ASAs, speed, lenses, even hyper-focaling.
Why don’t you listen in?
“Dave, I’ve lost my lens cap.” (Oops, I forgot, I wasn’t supposed to name names). Screech go the tires, crunch goes the gravel as we pull off.
“When did you last see it?.”
“Could have been the last pull-off. Maybe the one before.”
“Why don’t you check your case?.”
“But I have checked my case, that’s why I just told you to stop!”
“Why don’t you check your pockets?”
“Not there.”
“And your purse?”
“I never put my lens cap in my purse…”
“Well, I’m hungry,” I interject. “Let’s make lunch.”
“Well, as long as we’re stopped, I think I’ll check out that boulder over there; the moss is interesting”, says Dad. Mom gets out to help with lunch.
“Oh, here’s my lens cap. I’ve been sitting on it.”
“Dave, I’ve lost my lens cap”. Screech go the tires, crunch goes the gravel as we pull off……
”Well, as long as we’re stopped, I like that reflection in the mud puddle over there”…
“Oh, here it is.”
“I’ve lost my lens cap”…
“I’m hungry…”
“I’ve shot the whole mountain using the wrong ASA; I must have changed it at the glacier”
“I left the speed at 15 and shot the entire fjord and I thought it was on Aperature; they’re all ruined”.
“I’ve lost my lens cap”.
“My filter is missing.”
“I’ve got the wrong lens on.”
“Do you want this picture?”…
”Would you like this one?”
“Here’s another waterfall.”
“There’s a waterfall on the left”,
“There’s a waterfall on the right.”
My mind starts to wander, the words drift in and out, like the wisps of fog on the fjord.
To my untrained eye, the reflective view of the mountain walls, tiny boats and flowers in the sky-blue fjord was beautiful at kilometer One. It was beautiful at kilometer 1.1, especially with the orange float in the water. Then at kilometer 1.2 there were some reeds growing at the water’s edge. At kilometer 1.3 the edge of the mountain peaked out. Every one, a potential first-place shot. How can you deny a Photographer that perfect light, that composition, after having paid thousands of dollars to get here?
I get out of the car to stroll down the road. How many curves would I round? How many different perspectives on the snowy mountains would I gain before the Photography car caught up to me? That number is now called a ‘daguerre’. It is the distance between the walker and the car, after Dad has set the brake and donned his camera case. It’s named after Paul Daguerre, the inventor of the photographic plate.
But has anyone considered what view may be awaiting us around the next bend? The next fjord may be even more fantastic, the mountain more craggy. With each moment of sunshine and blue sky jealously hoarded against the days of mist and rain, should we hold one fjord so tightly in our fist that we don’t risk it and open our hand to the other possibilities?
But, Composition is a skill not easily learned, nor quickly executed. Photography is more than setting some dials and pointing the camera. What is in the frame is just as important. Or, for that matter, what is out. For me, if the light is right, the focus is good and I’ve avoided the telephone wires, I consider the picture a Success. But it’s a matter of goals. I certainly am not winning national prizes for my photography. And there are Photographers, I won’t name names, who do.
I am filling an album of memories, which I do remember. I believe I remember them even better than do the Photographers. Is it a matter of age? Or of goals? Maybe by opening the frame to 180 degrees, they would soak in the total experience, and remember. Then again, maybe not; it’s just an idea. Could be that herbs could do the trick just as well…
So, the Truth about Photographers. Maybe the true Photographer would completely ditch the people, sit in the mud for hours, stand on his/her head, and go without dinner to get that perfect shot. But my Photographers are Relatives, or Relatives who Photograph, and somehow we always do end up at the cheap tourist shop, buying refrigerator magnets and tea towels.
Because, isn’t it all a matter of Goals? And isn’t being a Family together a good one, too?
