The Picture I Did Not Take
You will never have the camera with you when you want it most. When you have it, you will not have its tripod. When you have both camera and tripod, you’ll be out of batteries. This is something like Murphy’s Law of photography, I think. Stay with me here as we are dropped somewhere in the middle of the tracks on which the train of logical progression rides; we shall then round the arc of the story and things will slowly make sense (note to self: stop mixing metaphors).
You see, the second snow here in the cities was absolutely beautiful. I walked along the city streets admiring what I didn’t hear: the snow muffled harsh sounds in the same way it coated the unsightly and softened sharp angles. The first snowstorm was insistent, as if Winter needed to let us know that she was still a force to be reckoned with. This second snow was much more gentle, fluffy, and (were it not crystallized ice falling from the sky) warm. This was a It’s a Wonderful Life snow of big flakes and movie set powder. It sparkled.
I stopped at an intersection and looked up at the stoplight. At the end of its arm, one semaphore signal hung in a black sea, with waves of snow washing around it. I was startled by the unexpected beauty and actually stood and stared as cars passed underneath my distracted gaze. “That would make a great picture,” I thought. It isn’t uncommon for me to carry my camera with me, too. No camera this time. I will not, however, underestimate the power of words, and I hope that the picture I have attempted to paint in your mind will do the scene justice.
And I’m going to carry my camera more often.
Comments
Nils
Way to not be prepared! Weren't you ever a boyscout man? Come on!
Seeing as it is late March now, I am trying to fully appreciate every last snow fall, because I won't be seeing this stuff again until November. At the same time, I really want winter to leave so summer can get started.