And This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

Summer of 2013 found me excitedly exploring Point Reyes National Seashore for the first time. I camped just outside the park in Point Reyes Station and drove most days through the small community of Inverness and their iconic shipwreck, the S.S. Point Reyes.

The S.S. Point Reyes has been stranded on a sandbar in Tomales near town for as long as anybody in town remembers. Photographers and tourists stopped to photograph this very picturesque derelict of a ship.

That is until recently.

Oh folks will still be able to stop and see the wreckage but the wreckage is greater than it used to be because of some unthinking fools who thought a cool picture was worth the risk. Read an article describing what happened here.

Steel Wool Spinning has gained in popularity over the years as a photographic gimmick. Set fire to steel wool and spin it around on a string as sparks fly of in arc - it creates really cool photos that get lots of likes on FaceBook and Instagram.

The problem is, well, those sparks. They spinning is casting off sparks of molten hot steel. They burn when they land on skin. They burn when they land on dried wood, grass and other burnables. They don't just evaporate into thin air. And when they land on something, they don't just disappear.

All too often, photos of spinning steel wool are made in our wild places. Places that are protected, places that are sensitive, places that could burn. And even if the sparks from spinning steel doesn't set off a fire, there is still the matter of the bits of steel left behind. This is basic Leave No Trace Principles - leave a place as you found it.

A friend once posed this question (and this goes towards biologicals too). Ask yourself - would this/these bits of steel wool be here if it wasn't for me? If the answer is no (and generally the answer to this question is no) then it doesn't belong there and you need to pack it out. Period. Little bits of steel left behind are littering and damaging. Even if you can't see them, they're still destructive by adding elements to the land that weren't there to begin with.

But if you find you must spin steel wool for a cool photo, do me a favor. Look around you and imagine this space as your home. Would you spin burning steel wool in your home? Then maybe you shouldn't spin it here either.

At this point the National Park Service is considering removing the S.S. Point Reyes as it's now a safety hazard. And that is sad for photographers, tourists and residents alike.

The Distraction of the Camera

SPOILER ALERT!!! If you have not seen The Secret Life of Walker Mitty stop reading right now, head immediately to Netflix to watch one of the most endearing films in recent years. Then you can come back and finish reading this blog post.

In the movie The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, Walter played by Ben Stiller heads out on a quest to find renowned photojournalist Sean O'Connell played by Sean Penn. When Walter finally finds Sean, he is sitting watching the den of a snow leopard, lens pointed towards a mass of rock. During the ensuing conversation, the snow leopard appears. They watch as the leopard emerges and looks around. Finally Walter asks Sean if he going to take the picture. Sean replies "Sometimes I don't. If I like a moment, for me, personally, I don't like to have the distraction of the camera. I just want to stay in it."

That line resonated with me and is one of several reasons I fell in love with the movie. (Not the least of those is Ben Stiller's performance - there's nothing like a grizzled man in a parka to make me smile.)

It's a statement about being in the moment. Enjoying what is there - the sights, sounds, emotions.

How often have you set aside your camera to watch the sun set below the horizon? Or stopped washing dishes to watch the kids play tag? Sat in silence watching how the sun sparkles off the leaves around and above you.

Be in the moment. Don't worry about camera settings or your to-do list. Believe me, most every destination you're heading toward will be there when you get there. And certainly if you want to catch the emotion of a scene in your photography, put the camera down and feel. Immerse yourself in the moment. Then and only then do you lift your camera back up to create your image.

I was reminded of this on a recent trip to the Skagit Valley to see the Snow Geese. Every winter 10's of thousands of Snow Geese descend on the farmlands of the Skagit Valley to feed before heading back to their nesting grounds near Russia. Their numbers turn the fields white. With so many the noise is almost deafening. Their high notes are the honking of the geese communicating to each other. The base is a humming as they graze - a sort of yum-yum-yum-yum as they eat. An eagle flies near and as one they honking becomes higher as they lift off away from danger, circle around, land and graze some more.

I stopped photographing them after a while to just listen to their song and watch as they moved past me. Leaning against the fence protecting the birds from us, I watched as a story of life played out before me. And every now and then one goose would stop to watch me too.