Having spent the night just outside of Lexington in a semi-frightening hotel, I am doubly surprised when the alarm jerks me out of a sound sleep. First there is the expected surprise (sort of paradoxical, isn’t it?) of the alarm itself, but then I am also surprised to realize that I have slept through the night undisturbed. I hop out of bed and get myself ready to roll quickly. We have a 3 hour drive to home, today is a work day, and I have an important conference call this morning. Fortunately, I was able to finish the presentation material last night and send it out for a quick review. I check my mail to see if I have any responses. Only one with no suggested changes.
We forgo the free breakfast that comes with the room (probably just cereal and bananas anyway) since it’s still a half an hour before the service starts. We get in the car with me setting up to work from the car while Pat drives. It’s early enough that nothing much urgent is happening and my cellular MiFi is getting sketchy reception as we get into the hills. Deciding I’m as caught up as I’m going to get this morning, I put the work away and watch the sunrise over the mountains as we make our way from Kentucky to Tennessee. It’s a gorgeous morning.
Pat starts nodding off at the wheel, so we stop for a break and to grab something to eat. Then, we switch drivers. I drive us the final stretch into Chattanooga. It’s the first time I’ve been the one behind the wheel as we returned to our now hometown. It’s only the 2nd time I’ve driven in Chattanooga since our move. I get to experience some of the oddly banked curves of 27 as we round the city and cross the river to our exit. I manage to drive us safely to our parking lot, but with the stop we made, it’s almost 9AM. I grab all of my work related items and dash upstairs to get back online.
When I get online, nothing has happened. My boss hasn’t sent me any comments on the slide deck. No one in Australia responded to the replies I sent early this morning (already past their office hours). I’ve still heard nothing from Singapore, Hong Kong, or China on any of the things I’m working on there. And no one in any other part of the world sent me an email between 7:30AM and 9AM. That hour and a half that I wasn’t able to check emails really wasn’t so critical after all. I’m glad that I relieved Pat of driving rather than insisting I needed to be working.
During the day, fortunately during a break between conference calls (and after my most important call of the day was over), squealing tires and a big crash attract my attention. Two cars have collided in the intersection below our balcony. Since my camera is already set up, I indulge in a few quick shots from the window and then return to work. I count the number of sirens required for this accident. Both drivers are alone and both walk away with no apparent injuries, yet 3 fire trucks, 1 ambulance, and 6 police cars all come screaming to the scene. This helps explain the ridiculous number of sirens that go by every day! When I next look out the window, they are loading up one of the cars on a flatbed tow truck and sweeping the debris out of the street. I get a few more quick shots and then forget all about the accident.
That evening, the sunset reminds me why I tolerate the sirens during the day for our view. I talk Pat into going up on the roof with me so I can get a better shot of the sunset since there’s a building between us and the horizon to the West. I watch the sun go down with deep breaths. I slow down all of the anxiety-produced nervousness. I settle into myself as I watch the sun settle into the landscape.
I think this is why I love to shoot–it creates stillness. It stops the motion of time and pauses in a single moment. While a photo stays in that moment forever, the photographer moves on to the next moment and repeats the process. Between shots, I watch with an open mind and wide eyes. I am eager to see what next will present itself. All my senses feel alive and alert as I decide, “Is this the moment to shoot? Is this?” This is especially true during a sunset when I might shoot a hundred pictures of virtually the same thing–I watch for minute changes that make the scene worth shooting again.
Today, I am also working on some skills. As much as I enjoy shooting, I am rarely really pleased with the end results. Today I am practicing using a tripod and a remote shutter release in the hope of improving the sharpness of my images. While I’m at it, I play with long exposures and car lights, which is always fun. I also always try to improve composition. Unfortunately, I’m finding the use of the tripod is making composition much more difficult. In addition, my viewpoint makes getting the elements I want in the photo difficult to arrange around the rule-of-thirds.
Although I work on each of these things and take them into consideration as I set up for each shot, it is without anxiety. After all, this is a low-risk activity. If I don’t like the picture, I delete it. Instead, I work with the tripod to figure out how to best position the camera for the composition I want. I don’t worry so much about the rule-of-thirds for tonight. I breathe into the sunset and push the button on my remote. I feel calmness, serenity, and perhaps a little awe as I watch the light disappear. This is why I shoot.