Daily Archives: August 7, 2010

We had a little problem this morning…

Sunlit fields, distant barn

Houston, we had a little problem this morning.  It all started innocently enough.  It all ended well enough.  It was the middle that got a little–well, how shall we say it?–challenged.

About a month or two ago, my friend Harold took me on a tour of his fields.  He doesn’t live out on this old farmland, but he loves it.  We toured his building (which I remember once visiting dozens upon dozens of years ago when I was a young sprout, a very young sprout, doing typing for extra income while raising a baby.  This was two owners ago.  The eccentric fellow had me type a raging letter to the township treasurer protesting his taxes.  Little did he or I suspect that I would be the next township treasurer…)

But I meander.  Which is what I ended up doing this morning as I returned to Harold’s fields to visit the hidden pond back in the woods.  He had taken me there on a field two-track.  We bounced up and down in his vehicle until we came upon the hidden pond.  You know how I adore hidden ponds and lakes, don’t you?  I begged Harold permission to return at a later date to photograph.

Which is what I attempted to do during this morning’s dawn meander through the fields.

First I got lost.

Apparently wasn’t paying enough attention last time as Harold drove.

I ended up running like a deer through the tall wet grasses of the field, bounding up and down.  Felt like a free young child!  It was exquisite!

Until taking out the camera to snap another photo and–

Well, it all went downhill from here for a while.

Oh no! Oh no! The camera only has 6300 photos on it since last year!

The camera refused to take a “normal” photo for some time.

Oh no.  Is it time to buy a new camera?  Again?  Won’t this one even last to 10,000 photos like the last one?

Should I just turn around and go home?  Forget about the pond? 

No.  Proceed, Kathy.  This is a quest.  When one seeks the hidden pond, do not turn back.  Even if the camera dies.  We are more than our cameras, are we not?  Continue on your quest.

This doesn't look much better, does it? Are we doomed to photograph "modern art"?

I reached the hidden pond.  Admired its beauty.  Breathed, breathed, breathed.  Ahh, simple pond.

Ahh, peaceful pond.  (Do not panic.  What is the worst thing that could happen?  You would have to buy a brand new fancy Nikon camera, right?  Breathe…)

After a long peaceful, truly peaceful, admiration of the hidden pond, I snapped another photo.  Ohmygoodness!

The photographer's anguish?

And snapped again.

The camera recovers! Hey what do you think of this lovely lady overlooking the pond?

After a rather extensive photo shoot (patience, patience, dear reader.  Please come back tomorrow.  More hidden pond photos forthcoming!) the camera and I walked back across the mowed field path.  No longer lost.  Feeling only peaceful and relaxed.

Neared the barn.  Attempted to photograph the weather vane:

An odd view of the weather vane and barn

The camera lens wouldn’t open.

Finally it opened.

Then it refused to shut. 

And then–finally–it mysteriously recovered.  Have taken twenty more photos today without any further screw ups.  Hoping it was a battery problem.  Hoping.  Truly hoping.

Thank you for your simple and peaceful patience through all these camera trials and tribulations.