Taking a break from my first attempt at a self portrait, I pack up my gear and head to the park across the street. My collection of gear seems to be growing. I have to leave a lens behind to make space for my loupe with a 3x magnifying viewer (which, by the way, kicks the but of any pair of reading glasses–not only can I actually tell if I’m in focus or not, but I can even use it to read the impossibly small icons on the control panel on the top of the camera). I tuck in a garbage bag in case I want to lay in any mud (you never know when the urge will strike), and I stuff in my new 5-in-one 22” reflector in the event I decide to do some macro photography while I’m over there.
I go to the park prepared to shoot macro, wildlife, and/or landscape. I’m nothing if not flexible. I am also prepared for rain. Besides my trash bag, I carry my rain jacket just in case.
I swing my camera bag and my tripod bag over my shoulder with my camera hanging around my neck. As I pass the gym across the street, I see my reflection in the windows. I look down at my feet, clad in five finger shoes. I find myself thinking it’s a good thing I don’t have children–they would never go anywhere with me in public.
As I enter the park, I see an eastern blue bird. It looks like it may have a nest on the light–it’s carrying a bug and acting like it’s feeding something. I cannot see any baby beaks from where I’m standing, however.
Next, a great blue heron lands in the wetland. I creep behind the cattails, hoping to get a shot. As I get close, I see him standing with a frog hanging out of his beak. But he flies off and I am left wondering why I didn’t change to my longest lens before sneaking up on him.
I head back towards the paved path, looking for a spot to shoot clouds, and then blooming trees. I switch back and forth between shooting macro and landscape, wishing I had that second camera.
I make good use of the trash bag getting a new angle on blooming trees. My reflector comes in handy when I need some shade on the red bud blooms. However, the wind is picking up and macro shooting at 3 feet above the ground does not go well.
I shift back to shooting landscape. As I stand overlooking the Tennessee River, it starts to rain. My garbage bag transforms into a rain cover for my camera. My rain jacket goes on, the hood goes up, and I head back home.
Tisen is frantic when I return home. He jumps at my legs as if demanding an apology for being gone for so long. Maybe someday he’ll be OK.