Palliativity 156: Hallowed Hunt

The life of a photographer, like golf, is a nice walk ruined; a person who constantly apologizes for lagging behind.

When I have a camera in my pocket, it’s hard to fight the urge to hunt. My intentions are selfish and driven by a gluttonous eye. Most photographers rarely get to enjoy what they see before themselves in the moment. I try to remain engaged with my companions and observant of my surroundings. The compromise: rather than plan ahead for each shot and digest the scenery further, I am only looking for scratch material. Scrap images never have to be perfect.

Click! – I quickly look down at the backscreen and squint under cupped hands, simulacra of catching fireflies in a summer meadow. I smile when I see the framed shot I held my breath and steadied for. I look up and see all of my friends and family down the path looking back expectantly to make sure that I don’t get left behind. I stash my camera and pound the pavement to catch up.

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Bonus: perform magic-eye maneuver on images above for at glimpse inside my brain…if you dare 😉