07 March 2013

lessons


A year ago, I saw a photograph by Blaine Franger of sun shining through a tree and fog. I had never seen anything like it. It was stunning. In the very next second, I knew that I had to capture something like that, only I didn't know how.

The great thing about Blaine is that he always posts his camera settings. That gave me a good start on how, but was it just regular fog? Perfect timing of sun? A certain angle? I filed it away and hoped that some day I would figure it out.

This morning, after I dropped the kids off at school, I took my usual walk. It was very foggy; so thick I could only see about a hundred yards in any direction. I knew I should have taken my camera, but didn't want the extra weight. I left with a nagging feeling I'd regret that decision.

Three miles in, I came around a corner into a forested stretch of the trail and boom. There it was. My rays. I was a mile from my car. Two miles from home, where my camera was. I took a blind shot with my super crappy, super old phone and ran to my car. 

I ran. I hate running.


As I ran, every tree I passed looked like the one in the picture. It was agonizing. I berated myself the whole time for not bringing my camera. I got to my car, drove home, grabbed my camera, and headed back out.

The fog was gone.

I was devastated. I chased the fog in hopes I'd find some more trees, but there was nothing I could reach. I tried to console myself with some mountain shots, but they don't even compare to the shots I missed.

At least I know where to go on our next foggy morning. . . with my camera.