Monday, September 10, 2012

Focused

A semipalmated sandpiper is focused on finding prey

It had been a while since I had touched my camera when I went out on this mid-August trip. Actually, much longer than "a while" -- especially compared to the frequency I became accustomed to in California. It had been over three months since I tried to make a meaningful image. Worse yet, it had been just as long since I was able to be out enjoying and connecting with nature. Throughout my growth as a person and a photographer during the past half-decade, I had really come to rely on these moments of connection with nature to help to re-center myself. So in the end, enough was enough, and I had to prioritize some time to get outside. One weekend evening was all I could take, but it would have to be enough. My wife and I hopped in the car and drove out for the sunset on Plum Island on the North Shore.

I was almost giddy with excitement to be going through my pre-trip rituals of charging batteries, formatting memory cards, and cleaning lens surfaces. Donning my outdoor clothes and hiking shoes gave my heart an extra bounce to its step. All of these things were leading to seeing the ocean, feeling the breeze, and smelling the warm salty air. I could feel it in my soul, and couldn't wait to hit the sand.

When we arrived at the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge entrance, I was hit with the sad realization that it was summer in the Northeast and not along the California coast. Lot #1 was recently reopened to the public after the plovers had moved on, and it was packed. Signs along the road warned that there was no parking available at Sandy Point, my ultimate destination. I stuck to my plans though, and figured that 90 minutes before sunset, and very near to dinner time, most cars would be heading home. When we reached the end of the island, we were thankful that someone was pulling out of a spot in the overcrowded lot just when we got there. Soon enough I was pulling out my gear from the back seat.

What a refreshing moment it was to step out of the car and feel the coastal air. As we made our way along the trail, I could see that the beach was packed. There were excited children and loud families everywhere. Quickly, I realized that I may not be able to find that connection with nature that I so desperately sought. Amidst the chaos of a summer's evening along the shore, I spotted a small group of peeps feeding in the sand exposed by the ebbing tide. "Peeps!" I called to my wife, who knew that she'd be on her own to wander the beach for a little while now that my target was sighted. I watched from a distance as a beachwalker strolled right at them, and thankfully the flock parted and they remained in the area.

This was a good sign that these were friendly birds (and most likely naive juveniles), and I made a quicker than usual approach. Soon enough, I was down in the sand seeking an eye-level view. I laid on the shutter and reveled in the rapid fire sound of the birth of new images. Even though it had been a while since I used my camera, the feeling quickly came back, and I lost myself in the world of these small shorebirds feeding in the sand.

After a few minutes, the silence in my mind was disturbed by my own thoughts. How peculiar that I was interrupting myself -- but that's what this particular thought was about. Somewhere in those moments of lying in the sand and framing the birds, the realization came to me that I had actually found the connection I was looking for. It didn't matter that kids were splashing and yelling their shouts of joy around me, because I didn't hear them. It didn't matter that people were looking at this strange guy covered in sand photographing tiny birds that many people don't even notice. What mattered was that I was there, feeling nature -- breathing the air, sensing the pulse of the waves, feeding off the energy of the birds. Every other thought dropped away from my mind, and I was fully in the moment. Focused.

It was, ironically, this trip to a crowded summer beach on the Massachusetts coast that helped to solidify my understanding of the personal connection with nature that I have sought out for so many years. There's just something about being in that moment, completely focused and absorbed by the tiny piece of the world visible through my telephoto lens. While I love to experience nature while hiking, I do find a much deeper connection when I have my camera along. For a long time I've wondered why that was. But now I think it all makes sense to me. When my eye is pressed to the viewfinder, it's not just my vision that's reduced to only what is focused within the frame. For those moments, my mind is singularly focused too. There's no thought of unanswered emails, tasks left unfinished, chores yet to be done, and the rest of my everlasting to-do list. Everything else is gone. My entire being is focused on what I can see in the lens, on feeling the energy of the animal I'm watching, and on working to capture just a tiny piece of the magic of that moment in my images. What a truly meaningful experience it is to have a singular focus, even if it only lasts for the fleeting time of a wildlife encounter. It's no wonder I keep coming back for more. I'm already looking forward to the next time I can bring my eye to the viewfinder and find the quiet solitude that it brings to my mind.


21 comments:

  1. Hello Pat,
    It has been quite sometime since I last visited your blog but I am so glad I stopped by this morning and read this wonderful post that, in my opinion, belongs in a book along with about 50 of your most prized photos that show different types of focus. Something for you to condsider. Not only are you a fabulous photographer but writer as well. I hope things are great in Massachusetts. I haven't been back in several years because Maine is just too beautiful and peaceful to leave. Have a great week.

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  2. Beautifully said! You have so perfectly described that feeling of being lost in the lens, alone with the memory you are about to etch into time. The east coast appears to be so very different than those tranquil times on the edge of the Pacific but I can see you are making the most of it-your photography always pristine, so full of the fine detail that put the viewer right there with you. Your writing, superb! May you find many more days to enjoy that focus.

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  3. beautiful photo and a very well-written sentiment.

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  4. Great shot!! Glad you're back. Boom & Gary of the Vermilon River, Canada.

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  5. Great post and a beautiful shot of the Plover. Glad you back!

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  6. FABulously focused Pat.

    You put into words those magical moments that I'm sure many of us can recall when we are at one with nature ... so superbly spoken. May you have many more such encounters.

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  7. Pat you have expressed so eloquently the feelings I have when photographing nature, I can't thank you enough. I have always known that there is a very special connection we have as we focus on wildlife through the viewfinder, although I have a difficult time explaining it to others. I think it is something a person has to experience first hand. I hope you make the time to engage in your passion more often.

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  8. Beautiful photo and bird and I really appreciated your thoughts about connecting with nature.

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  9. Your image is FABULOUS! So glad you were able to get out!!

    I can relate so much to this post! I find that if I don't MAKE time to get out in nature - at least once per week - I have a horrible attitude and am very snappy! Being outside centers me and is a great stress reliever.

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  10. I like the idea of being 'lost in the lens' and contemplating whatever comes to mind. Well said, and your photo -is it a sanderling?- is so pretty..."Focused" on something!!!

    Silent Silhouettes

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  11. Beautiful photo and well-expressed thoughts!

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  13. Lovely thoughts, Pat!! And beautiful images.

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  14. I'm with Others here, Pat - a great post, beautifully put. I've revisited several times - Thanks!

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  15. Nice post Pat, I've had those times too when I just need to reconnect with myself and nature through photography and nature photography has not once let me down!

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  16. Thats a wonderful picture and a wonderful set of words - we need to find connection where we can -it does not always have to be (as I've come to call them) a "David Attenborough" moment!

    Thanks for linking to WBW - and sorry for late reply, I was in Dubai all last week and work rather took over my life!

    Cheers - Stewart M - Australia

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  17. Pat. Sorry I haven't looked in for some time,but glad I did.You have said so eloquently why we go out to photograph the wonderful wildlife that is all around us .So few people realise what beauty is out there and so many don't really care.Thanks for the wonderful words and I will look in more often. Take care.

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  18. Pat, as others have said, you captured the essence of that connection so perfectly. I can relate to the sentiments and also to the challenges of photographing outside of California, where I became so spoiled by open spaces with few humans ... and many shorebirds! You're right, though, that there's a transcendent quality to connecting through that lens, no matter where or how. I find the same thing here in Seattle where most of the shoreline is urban and developed, but when I find a kindred animal soul, it becomes just me and her. Yes, you definitely nailed the feeling.

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