Tim Grey’s Blog

In case it wasn’t obvious, I love photography. And while I don’t pretend to be a great photographer, I love working to improve my photography and finding new ways to enjoy the craft.

One of the things I learned long ago is that I need to have a camera with me at all times to record images that are important to me. Part of the draw of photography to me is the ability to record memories in a tangible way, so they can be experienced again and again simply by viewing the images. So I try to be sure to have a camera with me at all times.

Recently, while getting ready to board a flight at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport as the sun was setting, it became clear that sometimes just having a camera isn’t enough. It had been raining most of the day (typical for Seattle, I’m afraid). But this was one of those days that isn’t so typical in Seattle, when the clouds are broken and puffy and beautiful. So there I was, looking out the terminal window at the wet tarmac and intensely colored sky.

I did have a camera with me, but it wasn’t enough. It was only my point-and-shoot, not my digital SLR. But that was only part of the problem. The other problem was the condition of the windows in the terminal. Not dirty by any stretch, but still bad enough that it created a challenge in capturing an image that did justice to the scene before me.

But it was worse than that. I realized that to get the magical image I knew was unfolding before me, I needed to be outside, with my digital SLR and tripod, with unfettered access to all parts of the airport. The lighting was simply amazing, and the reflection on the wet tarmac only added to the magic. When I got onto the airplane I saw a great many compositions of light, reflections, and random objects (yes, at an airport, but I am an aviation buff, so I’m a bit biased).

All this got me to thinking about how great photographers so often create opportunities for themselves. Here I was savoring an incredible sunset and the effect it had on the recently watered airport environment, and it represented a missed opportunity for me. And I realized if I were one of those “great” photographers I admire so much, and this was indeed something I wanted to capture, I would have found a way to make it happen. I probably would have planned it in advance, waiting for the perfect day with the perfect weather, already knowing what angles to use, which lens to use, how to compose the scene. I would have had it all figured out.

Fortunately, even those of us who haven’t achieved greatness in photography can still enjoy such moments, even if we do chastise ourselves from time to time for the equipment we left behind.

This entry was posted on Thursday, January 3rd, 2008 at 10:27 pm and is filed under Philosophical, Photography. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site. Your comments will appear immediately, but I reserve the right to delete innapropriate comments.