Unexpected Visitors

Last evening while we were eating supper I looked out the window and noticed a pair of ducks swimming and diving in the pond. I left our dinner table and picked up my binoculars to see if I could identify these

to the pond.

And I was able to immediately see that they were a pair of hooded merganser ducks. I believed that they must be making a dinner stop at the pond on their migration north. Sure enough they swam and dived, swam and dived for about an hour. Then they disappeared from sight and I didn’t see them again. What a gift to see them, even briefly, here in my own backyard.

I’m so glad that I picked up my camera immediately (with 100-400 mm lens and 1.4x extender) to photograph them from the living room windows. It wasn’t easy because they spent a lot of time in an area of the pond that is sheltered by trees. I had to crouch low by the window, heavy camera in hand, waiting for them to emerge from behind the trees. But eventually I managed to make a few photographs of them that I liked.

Savoring and Responding

In my life as a photographer I get so many reminders about savoring and responding to each moment of life. For so many things in life there are no do-overs. Everything changes all the time. And if I choose to put off making a photo when the opportunity is in front of me, I may never again get that particular opportunity.

Other lessons I’ve learned as a photographer are about how seeking to see and experience beauty, awe, and wonder has enriched and changed my life.

It’s true that there is a lot going on in the world and in everyone’s life all the time. And that fears and worries about climate change, politics, the economy, war, artificial intelligence, aging, and more can feel overwhelming at times.

Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.

— Rumi

When I start to feel stuck in a sense of overwhelm or encounter other unexpected visitors like worry or pain, I know that it’s time to spend time doing what I love, seeking out beauty, pausing to be filled with wonder, choosing joy. I start with something simple that I love and I take the time to really let that simple something that I love sink into me. Choosing what you love, seeking beauty and experiencing awe doesn’t take away pain and grief. But it helps to create a container that can hold it all, your joy and your sorrow, the pain and the possibility, the brutality and the beauty. We are human animals and we are made to feel everything. I choose to start with love.