Becky and I went out this morning to the derelict trailer I talked about the other day. The owner of the trailer was at home.
I think he was as surprised as I was when we saw each other. He didn’t seem at all happy about it. I was very grateful. Not much else to say.
Instead of going to church yesterday, I went out to shoot.
My friend Sally and I went to a nature preserve a few miles north of Bainbridge, IN to photograph this abandoned trailer she had found on an earlier trip. Sally is the one who came up with the idea of wondering instead of wandering that I talked about in an earlier post. On this trip she coined another expression that will live; ‘I saw something that didn’t get into the camera’, that undefinable something that is the difference between a great image and one that was just a good idea at the time.
At any rate, we spent a lot of time at this trailer looking inside and out. 
There is no conventional definition of beauty I can think of that would include anything about this trailer. But then that is the problem with a lot of conventional definitions, they only cover a part of what they are describing. That’s good, in a way, it helps us recognize the limitations of language and makes room for photography. 
As we were working around and in this trailer I was wondering what its stories are. Here it is, sitting out in the woods and it has been here for some time. I think it would miss a lot to ask what the singular story is, there are stories that apply to different parts of its existence. When it was put where it is now, was it someone’s residence? A get away place for someone who lived elsewhere? The story told by the trashing it received in recent years (I hope well after it was abandoned and not before) may just be that someone had a lot of time and anger on their hands.
Here is something else that was cast off, although not by people, it is just late in its life cycle. In its earlier months this weed, if it attracted any attention at all, might have been pulled up. Would anyone describe it as beautiful? Probably not but the image is inviting. There is something about its shape and the oak leaf nestled up to it that instructed me to photograph it. It will not know death if the seeds in the pods at the end of its stems have anything to say about it.
What is it about dilapidated, unlivable, abandoned buildings (and trailers) that is so attractive? And why can a photographer go immediately from photographing such a place to photographing something beautiful and not think a thing of it? Worth thinking about.
Saturday I went with friends Becky and Marla to Muscatatuck National Wildlife Refuge, about 65 miles southeast of Indianapolis. It was warming up but there was still about eight inches of snow on the ground. If there was one lesson for the day it was to be ready with the camera, starting at the very beginning of the trip. The first stop was in Indianapolis. Traffic was blocked because a foot race was in progress and we got to watch the runners and walkers go by. We were stopped by an apartment building and the reflections in the windows were interesting. I took several shots (there were lots of participants in the race) and then I saw this shot. That is a green soda bottle in the tree. I think it had been a bird feeder at one time.
Reflections were not going to be the order of the day but they would pop up again, for example at the Myers’ cabin at Muscatatuck. It is part of a historical preservation.
We have had a lot of below freezing weather in recent weeks the temperature seldom getting as high as 30 degrees, but it got up into the 40s on Saturday, and snow was melting. 
Most of the time I was using my 17 – 85 mm lens but since I had it along, I got out my 120 – 400 mm lens, a pretty hefty telephoto. We were in the last part of the trip and we drove by a pond where Becky spotted an otter. We stopped and I got this shot out the window of the car.
I find I do better with the camera when I am open to the moment. One part of me says to go out there with a plan while another part says to stay loose, stay awake. I do in fact go out with a plan now. The plan is to know what the camera settings are (I’ve had several disasters when I thought, for example, the auto focus was on and it wasn’t) and keep the camera handy, ready to shoot. Then go wondering.
I read an article in the online edition of the Washington Post this morning making the point that a lot of people are being seduced by technology and are spending more time than ever texting, Twittering, talking on a cell phone, or just sitting in front of a computer (which is what I am doing now). If they are out and about doing all this stuff, that means they are not as available to what is going on around them as they would be if they were not engaged with all of that technology.
Lots of folks believe they can successfully ‘multitask’ and they do generally avoid major problems but I can personally attest that multitasking reduces the margin for safety. I made this observation as the car next to me was pushed into my car broadside by someone who ran a red light because he was on a cell phone. No one was injured. The data show that multitasking is not a good idea.
Multitasking is a vote against being here (right here in this physical place) in the present. A vote in the sense that we make choices and the choice of the multitasker is to not be entirely here. A college professor friend of mine says that he walks around the room as he is teaching a class because if he stays at the front of the room, the people at the back will be texting. He would rather they didn’t.
I don’t want this post to be a rant. The point I am building toward is that photography, for me, demands that I be fully present to get the most out of it. And that isn’t just being present with a camera in hand but as much of the rest of the time as possible because the eye is constantly looking for image potential. Some of my most memorable images were ones I didn’t take (the ones that got away?)
The image below, one I got yesterday, wouldn’t have been made if I had been on the phone as I was looking around. It was fleeting and in its context, more subtle than it appears. It’s funny that with all its busyness, it is a kind of symbol for multitasking. 
I know I wouldn’t have seen these leaves in the ice if I had been on the phone. 
It’s been warm the last few days and it is getting cold tonight so there will be more leaves to photograph tomorrow. If you call me, leave a message; I won’t be near a phone.
The plan yesterday morning was to go out and shoot, come back in and write about it. I did go out and shoot and I did come back in but that’s when the disappointment started. 
The images were ‘nice’ but not something I would want to hang on the wall or even show anyone. (So why am I showing them to you? Stay tuned.) It wasn’t as if there were no subjects. Black raspberry leaves in the fall are gorgeous and backlit golden leaves can be treasures.
But that just didn’t seem enough. These were standard, garden variety fall pictures. Big deal.
I went to the camera club meeting last night and didn’t have great hopes for that either. We were going to shoot indoors. There would be models and good lighting, as well as a set up for macro photography. These were some fine opportunities but I thought instead I would take my camera and tripod outside. It was dark and lights were showing up some interesting opportunities. 
This was a lot better. I was not able to previsualize what I would get before I opened the shutter, I was just hoping for something interesting (and undefined).
And that made it a lot more fun.
My brother and I spent part of yesterday at Fort Harrison State Park. A couple who were out for a walk stopped and asked what I was photographing. I replied ‘Anything that will stand still long enough’ which is true enough that it didn’t seem to require any further explanation. 
What I was really doing would have required a bit more conversation but would probably have been worth the time to say it. I was out wondering. Not wandering, but wondering.
About a year ago I was emailing back and forth with a friend. I was intrigued by a photograph she had done and asked how she got it. She was busy doing other things and wasn’t paying attention to what she was typing and she wrote that she was ‘wondering’ around and saw the image. That word ‘wondering’ captures it for me. It was a typo but when I pointed it out to her and how great a choice of words it was, she agreed and now she goes wondering too. Or maybe we’ve been wondering all along and didn’t know it.
Wondering. Sometimes that leads to seeing something we might not have noticed before and sometimes it means asking ‘I wonder what will happen if I move the camera during the exposure?’ or try some other creative technique. That is what I was doing yesterday beside Fall Creek. Most of the images weren’t very interesting but some were, at least to me.
It’s time to go out again. I wonder what I’ll see?
Spirit and Seeing 