I pulled into the gravel parking lot, noticing the golden hour beginning and a patch of yellow flowers, lit from within. I almost drove into the median, where the clusters of flowers were wildly planted while looking them over and back at the clock. Others were arriving for the meeting too, it wouldn’t start without me since I was leading the discussion I decided.
Without thinking I laid my belly down on the sharp-edged gravel road, getting my nose and lens into a position to see what I knew was there. Giving myself permission to see only what was right in front of me. After a few clicks I heard footsteps getting closer. A group member was curious, what was I doing with my nose in the median of the parking lot, the rest of me on the ground.
It isn’t easy to answer, especially when I knew my time frame was so limited, like the light, like the moment. I talked to her while I continued to nose-dive into the cluster of flowers, she couldn’t understand what I saw in there, she was also a photographer and loved her telephoto lens for birds and the occasional flower from a distance. She was also very concerned with my camera, wondering what kind of images I was getting.
I rarely encounter other photographers when I am taking photographs. This was a new experience for me and I realized as I was talking to her that I was calm and not threatened as I know I sometimes feel when something I love is in question. It felt really good to not feel the need to defend my camera, my eye, my photographs, my way. All are important to me in such a way that I don’t need to defend them, they are intrinsically a part of the light within me.