Howard Moo Young, Contributor
PHOTOGRAPH BY HOWARD MOO YOUNG
AS A young child, I delighted in such simple things as buttercups growing wild across Race Course, now known as National Heroes Park, 'Shame-me-lady' plants in between, and hundreds of bees collecting pollen from flower to flower in the early morning, as the remains of the night dew evaporated in the first rays of the rising sun.
Nature never failed to fascinate me as I strolled along the beach to closely observe the variety of seashells, miniature soldier crabs and other organisms and pieces of driftwood. I still remember staring hours on end into the natural vegetation of my glass aquarium at tropical fishes feeding among the grass, while snails climbed the sides as they cleaned the glass. I would watch in amazement as the spider weaved its web with precision, carefully measuring each connection within the design, in preparation of the first flying intruder to come by.
Have we lost this sense of wonder we all once processed as children, now that we're adults? Although we may exclaim profound inspiration over a particular spectacular sunset or admire a magnificent waterfall, we have routinely forgotten that the sunlight streaming through the window, or the dew on the grass, is equally impressive.
Although we may consider ourselves more sensitive than
the average person, even photographers are not immune to this phenomenon. Awed by the truly magnificent black and white landscapes of Ansel Adams, or the colour hand-tinted rare Jamaican scenes by the late Amador Packer, we may imagine that it's necessary to travel far and wide to make really meaningful nature photographs. Meanwhile, wondrous, beautiful things lie just outside your door, and we may view them all as dull and ordinary.
OVERCAST SKIES
Ever looked outside your yard, or on the street after a shower of rain? I can well remember how as young boys, we used to race matchsticks as they floated down the sidewalk gutter and following them as we left school. To the ordinary person, drizzles between showers and rainy days are considered gloomy and dreary. On the contrary, although the light may be subdued and the sky grey, overcast skies eliminate the sun's spectacular highlights, and colours become more saturated and intense. Also, just a dull, dry stone becomes gemlike in a stream, or a drab seashell lustrous in the aftermath of a gentle wave. Common things like leaves, tree branches, sidewalks, and even boardwalks become transformed when they are wet. Following a rainfall, the bark of a tree seems different and petals in the garden seem to glow with an inner light.
I don't hurry when I'm looking for these miniature landscapes. I wonder slowly around the yard or along a trail. Very soon something grabs my attention, like a graceful curve of a twig, or the pattern of leaves on the grass. I'm alone, so I don't worry about the patience of friends, I have all the time to try different lens, compose and set up my tripod.
One needs patience and a good eye to discover these pictures, never to be repeated again. The lighting conditions, the angle of shooting, the choice of lens, the type of film all go towards creating the kind of image that makes an impact on the viewer. Most of the time, we all tend to miss these opportunities as we go about our regular chores, our minds preoccupied with so many distracting thoughts. Sometimes it suits us to slow down a bit, gather our thoughts, as try to discover the many miniature landscapes that surround us, waiting to be photographed.
Everybody seems to be in a mad rush these days, we photographers just don't have the time to even take a breather, and to what end? The world flies past us, leaving us tense, frustrated, and not being able to do the things we really long to do, like setting up our tripod, carefully surveying the landscape (miniature or life-size), a flower, or mountain stream, carefully focusing our camera, watching the change of light, choosing the best angle, selecting the right composition, and waiting for the exact moment to capture the image with the correct lens.
Long to capture those moments you used to experience, with the passion you had in the beginning? My advice is to deliberately take some time off, slow down, and enjoy once again the joys of photography, if not alone, with someone who can add two more eyes and a lending hand as you trek the misty mountain path, sandy lagoon, jagged seaside rocks, or the spray of gushing waterfalls. Don't wait until it's too late, where all around us will be dust. Thank God for our natural beauty, let's enjoy the Creator's handiwork!
After all, life is too short.
n Howard Moo Young is an advertising/graphic design/photography consultant with over 40 years of experience. Email:howardmooyoung@getcaughtmedia.com
