Okay, it might be blasphemy to write this for a photography website. The other night, on a beautiful spring evening, I took Jupiter the dog for a little walk before dinner. I wanted to enjoy that prime space between winter and full-on spring. I usually grab a camera, even when it’s for a quick walk, but this night I deliberately left the camera behind. The time had just changed, and so we had that extra hour of daylight that all of the clock-switching nonsense aims for. We walked past the neighborhood park and turned onto a wide sidewalk trail heading east. The huge full moon was just rising and peeking out over the houses and tree line. It was absolutely gorgeous, beautiful reds and oranges reflecting the sunset hues in the opposite sky. I paused, and so did Jupiter.
If I had planned for it, we would have been in just the right spot for some moon rise shots not even a half mile from home. Instead, I stood there and watched the moon come up over the horizon. Jupiter sniffed around and then we walked around a bit more before heading home to make spaghetti. In those few moments, I didn’t miss my camera (even though I love having a camera). It felt nice to just sit there in the middle of the path and marvel at the moon so close. I didn’t even have my phone, because I also think it’s wonderful to be completely untethered at times. I could just stand there, and I wasn’t futzing about trying to find the best angle, or pulling at Jupiter because where he wanted to smell wasn’t where I wanted to take a picture.
I just watched the moon. I wasn’t thinking about capturing the moment, or wishing that I had my camera. I had just a couple of minutes of quiet, of appreciation, and the immense beauty of an ordinary night with the full moon before me. I got to bask in the light and take a few deep breaths before turning around.
I don’t remember exactly what was on my mind during that walk, but I know that I was thinking about the moon and having a lovely time of being exactly where I was at the moment. I wasn’t thinking about the future, or looking at a screen, or peeping through a view finder. I was looking at the moon, and for that slice of time, that is all there was: the moon, a path, a dog, and me.
Sometimes, it’s groovy to just leave the camera behind. You don’t have to take pictures all the time. For a lot of us, even when we don’t have our cameras, we will grab our phones and use that handy little pocket camera (which by the way, can also be a useful photography tool) to grab the image, the moment. It felt freeing, and even a bit novel, to just stand and look up without something between the moon and me. For those of us who love photography, it’s hard to set aside time to just wander, look, and ponder without a camera. The temptation is to always have a camera with me, but sometimes I like going against the grain (film, or not). I enjoy creating those small moments of freedom, by intentionally leaving my camera and phone at home. In this world of lots and lots of screens, it’s harder to find those pockets of time, but we can definitely create them for ourselves.
The next time you’re about to slip a camera in your pocket, think about leaving it behind for that walk, that hike, that bike ride. Look up, look down, look all around, and see how it feels to just see without the need for film or a sensor to capture something. Know that this moment will never come again, and in the magnificent or the mundane that is all you need.
By Kary Schumpert
Kary keeps a blog at running-into-life.com and can be found on Instagram at @running_into_life. She teaches, writes, runs, plays with cameras, and spends her time in New Mexico and Colorado.
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Graham Orbell on The Case for Not Always Taking Your Camera
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
David Hill on The Case for Not Always Taking Your Camera
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
Brian Nicholls on The Case for Not Always Taking Your Camera
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
Ibraar Hussain on The Case for Not Always Taking Your Camera
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
Question is, when you say ‘camera’ do you mean to include both a camera camera and a smartphone?
As it’s the smartphone / phone of any type which I readily leave behind when out walking and enjoying my surroundings
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
Kurt Ingham on The Case for Not Always Taking Your Camera
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
Comment posted: 04/05/2023
Vincent Ollive on The Case for Not Always Taking Your Camera
Comment posted: 05/05/2023
Finally, writing/speaking is at least as good as photography to share memories.
Comment posted: 05/05/2023
Huss on The Case for Not Always Taking Your Camera
Comment posted: 06/05/2023
You don’t have to use the camera.
;)
Comment posted: 06/05/2023
Marc on The Case for Not Always Taking Your Camera
Comment posted: 08/05/2023
We pay a ton of money every month for these things, enjoy your silent walks with or without a camera, but carry the darn phone.
Loved the two articles, really
Comment posted: 08/05/2023
James on The Case for Not Always Taking Your Camera
Comment posted: 14/07/2023
This Canada Day 2023, one of my three daughters and I went into downtown Calgary to see if any kitschy stores were open in the Inglewood neighbourhood, in the southeast quadrant of our city. I, of course, brought a small digital. My wife didn't' want to deal with "downtown", my son was on top of a mountain with friends, my eldest is married with two kids of her own, and my youngest was up north, camping with friends. It was an opportune time for me and this one remaining child to bond.
Instead, I took 40 shots on one of my old, beat up (yet functioning) cameras.
I got some great shots. But my daughter didn't get all of my time until she mentioned the same. We stopped for blackberries at a downtown supermarket, and I put the camera away. Almost. But I was better behaved.
I think, solo, brining a camera everywhere is an 85% proposition. Maybe 90%. With company, maybe 50%. Maybe. But, sometimes rambling in nature, leaving any type of technology behind is the way to go. I do that sometimes, as well. It's healthy.
Thank you for another great piece...
James on The Case for Not Always Taking Your Camera
Comment posted: 14/07/2023
This Canada Day 2023, one of my three daughters and I went into downtown Calgary to see if any kitschy stores were open in the Inglewood neighbourhood, part of the southeast quadrant of our city. I, of course, brought my little Pentax Espio 120 SW, and a beat up digicam I paid $2.00 for, the week prior. My wife didn't' want to deal with "downtown", my son was on top of a mountain with friends, my eldest is married with two kids of her own - they laid low, and my youngest daughter was up north, camping with friends. It was an opportune time for me and this one remaining child, to bond.
Instead, I took 40 shots on the old digicam, and three shots on the Espio. And this was to be an "analog" day!
Alas...
I did get some great shots. But my daughter didn't get all of my time, until she mentioned the same. We stopped for blackberries at a downtown supermarket, and I put the camera away. Almost. But I was better behaved. We actually communicated because I wasn't looking for the next great shot. It was hot as hell that day, so we ended our expedition early. The train ride home was in silence.
I think, solo, brining a camera everywhere is an 85% proposition. Maybe 90%. With company, maybe 50%. Maybe. But, sometimes rambling in nature, leaving any type of technology behind is the way to go. I do that sometimes, as well. It's healthy. And, perhaps, I learned a valuable lesson as a parent, and as a human being, that always brining a camera everywhere, is a recipe for regret. Especially with the wife and kids...
Thank you for another great piece. Keep them coming!