Ever get so into what you’re doing that only a cataclysmic atomic explosion would seem to divert your attention? This photo is one example of my overzealous focus when I spent one early morning at the San Antonio Botanical Gardens earlier this spring.
In my pursuit of the right exposure and adjusting ISO levels and/or aperture, etc., on a shot that was a lighting challenge, I was taking several exposures of this delightful little aqueduct that runs through the garden.
Some of the early blooms had fallen into the water and left a nice splash of color layered over the surface of the water. After a number of attempts and stooping over to get the look I wanted, I stood up satisfied with what I could get.
At that very moment, I hadn’t realized that I was stooped under a small tree near the miniature canal. As I came up, one of the branches lifted my sunglasses that I had placed on top of my head and ploop…they disappeared in the murky slow moving water below.
I was so taken by surprise, anyone near me would have heard me physically groan. Sticking my hand down there, to me, was not an option either. I knew I’d have to use a whole bar of soap and an additional bottle of hand sanitizer to feel clean again.
it taught me, if nothing else, that being aware of my surroundings is of great importance.
Have you ever noticed that the items that you really depend on or love, seem to be the ones that get lost, broken, or disappear somehow? Granted, these weren’t a pair of Oakley’s, but they were light, fit well, and were polarized which is so much easier on my eyes.
Those things that you couldn’t care less if they slid off the top of your car and onto the rush-hour freeway, are the ones that stick around forever. I guess it’s the law of averages…the more you use those favorite items, the better the odds of something happening to them. Here are other photos from that day at the San Antonio Botanical Gardens.
Anyway, I liked the shot…it’s nothing profound, but I learned a lot from it and it taught me, if nothing else, that being aware of my surroundings is of great importance.
It’s important not just because you don’t want to lose things like sunglasses, or fall off a ledge, but also to compose what you want to say. Paying attention to ambient light, its angle, how it can be framed, and how it all plays into composition. It’s the way a story can be told through image…even when it’s that basic.
Steve Linscomb is a former television news reporter with more than 25 years experience in a number of small and large U.S. TV markets. His focus is in the development of the craft of fiction writing, more specifically historical fiction in both reading and in his current personal writing efforts.
He lives in San Antonio, Texas.
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