Tuesday, November 20, 2018

Taking Pictures

When I was in rehab I’d look out the window of my private room and think about the things I missed. 

I knew what I would miss about being in the institution but I was trying to think about what there had been in my life before rehab  that I wanted to enjoy again. My life at home was obvious. Beyond that I wanted to be able to go outdoors at will and even now in my second week back in Key West I take a keen interest in how the sky looks.

I thought about how I missed my big camera. That’s been a great joy to me especially as I waited a long time before I bought it. I like to feel the absence before I buy stuff on a whim and my Panasonic LUMIX 300 offered me depth of field (“3D portrait mode” in iPhone jargon) and a massive telephoto lense in one compact package along with a lot of other filters and features I might enjoy. And it has indeed worked out.  There’s a fly in the ointment though! 

It’s not the camera that is at fault, it’s me. I have come to realize suddenly that I no longer have the ability to adjust the angle of my shots by much. I can’t always stand or squat or lean. These days I can’t even drive myself anywhere or stop as the whim takes me. I can’t stroll or lean unobtrusively against a light pole. I have to make do. Obviously this isn’t the end of the world but it is another unexpected consequence of not having the use of my legs. I would never have thought of this little problem. 

I am lucky inasmuch as I can stand for a little while without support but I can’t easily go off-road for a picture.  I was hunting a butterfly two days ago but I couldn’t move my walker and juggle the camera in pursuit of the fluttering and darting wings. As it was a little patience got me there. 

Most of my around town pictures are from the passenger seat of the car as I am swept from doctor’s appointment to home and back by my ever patient wife/caregiver/driver. 

And by keeping my eyes open there’s no telling what I’ll spot here and there as she fills a prescription or orders a drive through coffee.

A wheelchair perspective on a newspaper box or  a gnarled  buttonwood trunk. 


David Masse said...

Well Michael, I know you still have a ways to go, but this post felt just like the good old posts from per-apocalypse days.

Welcome back.

Anonymous said...

Change your POV, not your AOV (Angle of view). Use your head and figure out how to interpret your handicap, with what you want to say or show with your pictures. It is NEVER the equipment.

Conchscooter said...

“It’s not the camera that is at fault, it’s me.” I guess that sentence wasn’t clear enough.