Journal of a Sabbatical

December 10, 1998

seeing slides

I guess since the Lifelong Learning programs at Northern Essex are "fro seniors" I can still attend? The headline is clearly an example of why spellcheckers are evil. After all "fro" is a correctly spelled English word, just not the one intended. Anyway, the lectures are open to the public - not just seniors - and with the refuge closed for the deer hunt seeing slides of the refuge could be the next best thing.

When I planned to go to this talk, I didn't realize I knew the guy. I've talked to him a couple of times on the Hellcat dike and once at Parking Lot 7 when he was photographing the Harris' sparrow. I never asked his name. He's the same guy who once gave me a perfect description of cedar waxwings and couldn't remember their name. He describes himself as a "Plum Island vagrant", which could either mean a homeless person or a bird that's only occasionally seen on the island, far from its normal migration route. I assume he's punning on the second meaning. Anyway, he's around there even more than I am.

My first surprise was that he took most of the photos with a 70 to 200 mm zoom. I thought people who gave slide shows with birds in them had to prove they had an 800 mm lens before they'd be allowed in the door :-)

He had great slides of all the well publicized rarities in recent memory: the white pelican (the one that Roberta wanted to give a ride back to Florida), the fork tailed flycatcher, and the Harris' sparrow. I didn't start to get really jealous until he started showing a series of a mother and baby river otter frolicking together. This guy must spend way more time on the refuge than I do or have incredibly good luck. I've caught glimpses of the otters but never where I could photograph them. It takes great patience just to locate them. I am soooooo jealous.

I was wondering how he got his great shorebird shots until he told us he rented a 600 to 800 mm lens for a long weekend. Most of his shorebird shots were from then. I wonder how many rolls of film he used up that weekend. I think he was pretty happy with the big lens because he included tons and tons of shots of the same birds in various positions, and the presentation started to get a little long.

Some of the seniors started leaving about an hour into the presentation and he had like two or three more carousels of slides to go. I looked away from the screen for a minute and stretched sort of awkwardly because I was getting stiff. Then I had my second surprise of the day. There standing in front of me was ---- Tibet! Eek! She was inches from me and waving at me. I must have seemed even weirder than I usually do 'cause I was self-absorbed with stretching my legs without disturbing anyone. So there she was. Heavily made up and not as "in your face" as she was at the cat shelter, she was still way too close to me. Regular readers of this journal may remember that I am terrified of this woman. I go out of my way to avoid her. And here I am in a darkened room full of senior citizens and confronted with her. Miraculously, a gentleman, who appears to be with her, rises from his seat and escorts her out before she has a chance to yell "Tibetan!" or "Have you read The Little Prince?" into my face. I can't wait to tell Roberta I saw her.

OK, now back to the slides. I kept comparing my photos to his. Many were similar shots of similar subjects. I alternated between thinking mine were way worse and way better. I don't know why I have this urge to compete. I am very critical of my own photography. My Dad was a very accomplished photographer, and I am not as good as he was. Plus, the things that catch my eye are not necessarily the things that other folks photograph.

Some of my best photos - at least the ones I'm the most happy with - are almost abstract. I like to look for patterns and textures. I'm fascinated with the things that wash up on the beach and could photograph the wrack for months. Interestingly, the slide show had no pictures at all of any of the beach detritus: no shells, no rocks, no seaweed, no mangled lobster traps, no broken toy boats ...

He also didn't have photos of people for the most part, except for one of birders lined up on the dike staring at the fork tailed flycatcher through their scopes. One of my self criticisms is my lack of pictures of people. Long ago I internalized the idea that "good" photographs had to be of smiling, happy, and posed people. I don't know where I got the idea that photographing shapes, patterns, textures, shadows... was not the best use of my time. And I do it anyway. I just feel guilty that I don't take more pictures of people - despite Andrea's fondest wish that I cease and desist from taking family pictures forever...