I’m jealous of those who illustrate their blogs with their own photos and I often wish I could do the same, even though it has its dangers and I could end up a Flikr junkie like Son of Groucho. But the things is, I managed to miss two photo opportunities in two days and all for the want of a camera.
Yesterday it was at home. It was about 4pm and I was looking out of the kitchen window and there it was. At the back of our house is a valley along which runs the canal and the railway, although we can’t actually see them, then the hill rises steeply through paddocks to the treeline high above.
The sun was low and shining on the rich colours of the autumnal trees, the white house on the hill shining brightly and a pale moon beginning to rise above it. I ran to the office to grab the camera and it wasn’t there. Bugger.
Next today, about the same time at work. The front of our offices lookout west across the Manchester city skyline. The sun was a big red ball silhouetting the several cranes being used on the building work opposite.
I made a dash for the office camera and yet again it wasn’t where it should be. I raced around other places it might have been with a sinking heart. Those proper photographers among you will know that sunsets are about capturing the moment — blink and it’s gone.
But the real lesson for us budding photographers has nothing to do with stops and apertures and framing — it’s know where the bloody camera is!
So there you are, possibly my most pointless post to date, telling you about photos not taken. But to prove I can, above is one I took in York a couple of years ago. It isn’t so much ‘Mr Yellow’ the street performer, but the look on the little lad’s face in the cafe behind. Click the image for a closer look.
A happy accident? Photographer’s rule number two.