A lucky shot: While snapping macro shots of flora, I found this 1cm or so sized spider
hidden amidst yellow bell flower bud
hidden amidst yellow bell flower bud
I sometimes wonder what's the difference between two photographs. You see, some subjects turn out as your lucky encounters. You spot them, you snap them, and that's all to it. Some subjects are elusive and uncommon, you need to mix more luck and hard work to track them down. There are also ones called compositions, where various settings - internal and external - ought to be arranged meticulously - for hours or days - to get one photograph just aesthetically right. And then there are shots that are meant to be post-developed, for their magic blooms within a photo lab or a photo editor.
But if the subject is the same, like when two people snapped the sky while standing on two different points on the roundish earth, would it look the same? Or would it not? Yet the keen eye will surely note who's the veteran and who's not.
Let me take the instance of the grasshopper's case. I happen to spot a bunch of tiny green grasshoppers playing hide and seek in a grass bush. All I did was lower my cam into the bush and go clicking right and left. The cam was set to super macro mode, so it did the job for me. The pics came out cool, and I was really happy. Happy to see those tiny beings in larger than life sizes.
But then... some months later when I was browsing an online gallery of a photographer, I happen to come across a grasshopper, in fact it was the head of a grasshopper. My first thought was, oh how lucky to have a high end cam to get such fine detail. And then... I read the caption under that grasshopper's head.
Sometimes I can't help but wonder... why people travel to far off places. Some travel thousands of miles away from their loved ones and cozy homes, just for the sake of shooting scenes that are bizarre, mysterious or magical. Like the aurora spectacle near Polar regions, or castles of stalactite and stalagmite, dizzying cliffs, volcano eruptions, giant tornadoes or even uncharted tombs where ghosts would likely patrol. And some photographers dare to stay up in jungles just to capture the elusive night crawlers, big and small, where many of them could be found easily in almost any zoo.
So why... why do they go that extra, extra mile... to capture something so momentary and ephemeral? Why stare at the sky, night after night and track the faint trail of stars, or snap frame by frame the entire sky from one horizon to another, and try to stitch them all together.. to make one photograph?
You see... the big cat in the jungle will not yawn the same way as the one in the zoo. For the one in the jungle is never bored, and only expresses that he's ready to set off for hunting on a long sleepless night. The one back at zoo may yawn more often, drenched in a never ending boredom, where the same old scenes pop before him from morning till night.
If that's not the case, then perhaps the sky from the photographer's backyard is hindered by the lights of their neighborhood, or the smoky clouds puffed from a far away factory, or the dust that swirled up during day has weaved a hazy screen at night. But when they trek to the summit of a very high mountain, or trudge along a sand dune in a vast arid desert, or wade through the savannah with a tree not in sight... far... far away from the so called civilization... that's when the photographer begins to see the stars... the ones he's never seen before. For his vision is now clear, and his mind is free from clutter. And there before him unfurls the perfect night sky, bundled with its boundless charm, all set to be captured.
Beating the chill of the night, being under siege by armies of blood thirsty mosquitoes and ticks, patiently waiting for the right moment, breathing as softly and slowly as possible, concentrating solely on the sky and nothing else. Not even the faintest rustle, the whooshing of the wind or the creepy nightly moans of the wild beasts lurking around would scare him. Nor would he worry about the lethal critters that could pop up any moment beside him. He puts his life on the line for that one memorable moment... which made me think... how amazing it must be to become a photographer of such caliber and resolve?
I felt so intimidated, like a tiny ant confronting a giant T-Rex. But I know that one day when that tiny ant try and build an anthill... so big, bigger than anything else around him, then the ant too can relish the spectacle that the T-Rex has been relishing for all that time. Then again, what the two sees might never be the same... even at the same altitude... with the same pair of eyes. But this little ant is hopeful enough to conquer the summit of the tallest anthill one day, in future... somewhat distant.
Just felt like penning my thoughts when I browsed some breathtaking travel photographs just the other day at the NGM site.