It’s difficult to achieve successful sunset photographs from my suburban apartment building. Other structures and treetops block the view. My generous friend decided that it was time we took a trip to the beach.
We chose to go to Tunnel Park, in Holland, MI. I went snap-happy even before we’d reached the shore.
Besides sunsets, I like getting shots of sailboats. That day, I wished I had better distance vision and a bigger camera than the point-and-shoot I own, because most of the boats were too far off shore for ideal shots.
Still, I could capture the late afternoon light on the dune grass and the waves, people-watch, and use the shoreline vista in an attempt to catch a bird in flight. Unlike my Toastmaster acquaintance, photographer Jesse Raven, I need the entire shoreline, and often count success as capturing the tip of a wing, or a tail feather.
An adolescent gull stood on the dune near my seat. I took a shot or two of him, in his mottled feathers, but he didn’t fly, being more interested in scavenging snacks other people had dropped.
I checked the sun’s progress toward the horizon, then turned my head to the south. There, gliding in on the lakeshore breeze, came gull number 5609, on approach. I lifted the camera, got the bird in my view screen, held my breath, and pushed the button, hoping he wouldn’t choose that moment to veer away.
When I realized my reflexes had cooperated, I grinned. It’s always a great thrill to succeed at something. Better yet, it’s worth my while, and yours, to develop recall of that first thrill when a goal is more complicated than a single push of a camera button.
Sure, we’ve written a blog post, or a chapter, or even finished a manuscript first draft, but for some writing projects, achieving print publication takes a while. A success in one area can lead to an achievement in another field. On the day I caught gull 5609 on approach, I had no idea I’d be blogging about him for you, today.
janhdk
Heidi Kortman
Jan Verhoeff
Krystine Kercher
Heidi Kortman