Thursday, December 9, 2010

With and Without My Camera

First Satsuma of the Season, 2010

Walking home today, a little lost in thought, nothing organized, not terribly focused on any one thing, I had a general feeling of happiness surrounding me, kind of like the cloud of dust and debris that floats around Pig-Pen in the Peanuts cartoons. The rain had stopped and bits of blue were starting to show through the clouds. It was nice to have dry pant legs. I really dislike wet pant legs, especially when they are my own.

This walk is a walk I take often. It is a walk I know well. Most of the trees I pass are green, yes, even in December. I feel lucky when I spot a few sidewalk squares covered with wet yellow leaves. It's been very wet lately.

Well, today when I was strolling along, I unexpectedly caught a glimpse of red. It slipped into my distant peripheral vision. I'd walked this way so many times, never noticing any red, but there it was. Just beyond a quiet white painted brick entry way, chipped, a little faded, nothing special, and a long concrete courtyard. The bricks, bushes, and green trees faded into the background when this tall stunning tree at the far end of the courtyard came into focus. It was absolutely covered in what seemed millions of small red leaves. It was grand. It commanded respect.

Then I realized I was not toting my camera. Maybe it was better this way. I simply stopped and stared, smiling. It wasn't a moment meant to be captured on film. It will remain wild in my memory and will stretch and slip this way and that each time I recall the moment.

28 comments:

  1. What a beautiful moment. Sometimes I call these type of ones a memory photo. A moment will stand out and remain in my mind just as if it was meant to be there always. Recalling it brings a soft glow and warmth each time.

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  2. I have the same moments...some not to be captured by the lens, just by your heart.

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  3. Though just home and freshly covered in glitter, I'm now smiling.

    Lovely. Thank you.

    xo jane

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  4. alexandria, So well said. Sometimes the recalling is just as beautiful as the original moment.

    Camilla, Yes, by your heart. Yours is a good collection, I'm sure.

    flwrjane, More glitter? Have these people no mercy? I'm glad you are smiling.

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  5. I love Pig-Pen. I love Woodstock, who flies upside down. And I love your photo of the mandarin that was. I got a big ol' macro lens for my camera today and I am simultaneously totally excited and thoroughly intimidated. Those moments when I am caught empty handed . . . I try to let them wake me up and I love the idea of letting them be, simply, wild.

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  6. I love your description of the bright red tree. Maybe you weren't supposed to have your camera just so you could write about it. There are many times when words are more powerful than images. I love seeing things like that which force you to stop and admire them.

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  7. What a beautiful description of this familiar walk where I was with you every step of the way, feeling grateful for the dry pant legs and looking around at the trees. Even though I love taking pictures and am heartbroken to be without my camera at a crucial time, sometimes it distracts me from simply enjoying the beauty of the moment. When I get back, often I'm disappointed because the 2D shot can't live up to the reality. The other morning everything was covered in a heavy frost do the branches and bushes looked like delicate lace. I didn't have my camera with me but was transfixed throughout the whole bus ride, knowing that this was something special to engrave in my memory.

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  8. something similar happend to me this morning - walking trough a thickly snow covered landscape at sunrise - suddenly the sky was bright pink. just white and pink. most unreal and no camera in hand.

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  9. I felt the same way about discovering a bush covered in tiny lavender berries. Wow, I thought, are you real?

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  10. I love those moments... they become more special exactly because you don't have a camera and have to snapshot it into your heart & head...

    Wish you a good week end!

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  11. I'm glad you were camera-free. Like Vanessa said, sometimes they can be a distraction. Without it you were able to just be there in the moment.

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  12. Shae, I love Woodstock too! Enjoy your new macro lens. I'll be expecting some fabulous winter citrus close-ups soon.

    Nicolette, I agree, I wasn't supposed to have my camera.

    Vanessa, It seems experiencing the beauty of the moment is possible with and without camera. I guess it just depends on the moment. I suppose it will tell us, if we listen. Your lace frost moment must have been meant for memory.

    Anna, Wow, beautiful. I think I need to visit some snow.

    Rachael, I love little moments like that. I'm going to go out and see if I can grab one before sunset.

    Anne Marie, I completely agree.

    Tracy, I am glad too. It was nice to just be there, unencumbered.

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  13. I find when I don't have my camera then I turn more to my words. Some of my best poetry has been written because of a lack of a camera to preserve the moment.

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  14. we saw a moose once, with her two babies. they were right next to us. i didn't have my camera, and truth be told, i was pretty grouchy about that. my seven year old son reminded me "we still saw them! can you believe we just saw that?" he brought me back.
    sometimes i purposefully leave the camera now. but if i see a moose family again on one of those days....

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  15. I have these moments too. At first I was frustrated not to have my camera but, then I realized - that the gift was that I paused to see it.

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  16. since I've started taking photos and looking at others online, I'm much more aware of my surroundings and feel sad when I'm caught in the perfect situation without my camera. But, then, I just soak it all in and try to remember.

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  17. I know what you mean. You do such a nice job of capturing moments with words, another way of seeing.

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  18. kate, Hmmm, your comment prompts me to think I should cease carrying my camera at all. A short term experiment, perhaps. I know I'd miss it too much to commit to always.

    tara, Moose! Moose with two babies--fantastic. I can see wishing for your camera in that instant, but then again, I bet you'll remember the image you saw for the rest of your life. I like the way your seven year old made it all crystal clear.

    RW, So true, it's the pausing and the seeing, with or without the camera.

    Jane, Perfect solution. And isn't it wonderful to discover that there are people out there who make us want to observe our surroundings more thoughtfully.

    Lecia, Thank you (smile).

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  19. Funny, that's exactly the way I feel about our wedding day...

    I look at the photos and somehow they don't fully capture the picture I have in my mind of that day, that moment.

    We even have a short video of the ceremony, and the couple of times we've watched it, I've wanted to go: "Well, this is lovely, but this is clearly not our wedding. Our wedding was..." and I trail off... It was perfect and sweet and tucked away in my heart, exactly the way I want to remember it. Nothing can capture or reproduce that, I don't think.

    And the comment about Pig-Pen..! I always say Noah reminds me of that character because of the endless cloud of dust and dirt that seems to follow him around, being the busy kid that he is... but I also like the idea of a cloud of happiness surrounding him - for that is generally true, too.

    What a beautiful image. I think I will tuck it away in my heart now and carry it with me always. :)

    Thank you.

    xoox,
    -maria

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  20. Dear Maria, I know exactly what you mean. I wanted only photographs and no video at our wedding for similar reasons. I like to think of the photos as triggers for my memory, but not a replacement for the depth of the experience being remembered. Because, as you say, nothing can replace our memory of a special event or moment. I'm imagining little Noah walking around in a cloud of dust, dirt, and happiness and it seems like a lot of fun, to me. xx, Denise

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  21. I often remember much more keenly the images and smells of something I didn't actually photograph. So happy your enjoyed your moment.

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  22. ha! thàt moment...the mind's eye being a trifle more powerful than the lens anyway.
    beautiful tree though!

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  23. I often treasure the moments spent without a camera more than the moments with. The camera makes me think of how to take a good image, where to stand, where to look...my mind overloads with specifics/techniques. Without the camera, I can just enjoy the beauty. It's a release in a way.

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  24. mosey, I think I'm going to go out into the rain, without my camera. I need some fresh air and wouldn't mind making a nice memory or two.

    woolf, I walked past the tree again a couple of days ago and many of the red leaves have fallen. Still beautiful, just different.

    Rachel, I'm in the mood for that release. Off I go, empty handed.

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  25. what a grand memory! and you made it very visual... somehow it's really a picture without a picture.

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  26. Oh oh oh! I have just discovered you, and you are my new addiction! I can't get enough of you. I love your ability to be content with the moment before you, yto pour yourself into that moment, and to totally swim around in it enjoying every detail it has to offer. Beautiful, so beautiful!

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  27. life without mathematics, Such a kind comment. Thank you!

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