I was in a bit of a slump — a long slump.  Other than family portraits and snapshots, I hadn’t created a really good photograph in years.  I was hiking with my family in a national park (which could be almost anywhere, given the distinct lack of striking formations in this image),  and my attitude was rather casual — I had no goals for my photography that day.  The new economics of digital photography had started to sink-in — there was no financial cost associated with taking a bad picture (prior to this, I was keenly aware of how much each frame of film cost to buy and process).  So, empowered by this new economics, I dared to fail.

 

A scene link this is one that I passed up a million times before.  I didn’t know how to capture it.  It had no horizon, no thousand-foot granite faces, no compelling waterfalls, no placid lakes with gorgeous reflections.  I was way beyond familiar territory.  My youngest son was riding my shoulders and I had one hand occupied with holding his legs.  That left but one hand to hold and completely operate a small, 2-megapixel digital camera.  In the space of just a few seconds, I could lower down to my knees, stretch my camera-holding arm to within a few inches of the ground, take this image, and be back up and hiking again — no financial cost, and hardly any time cost.  I did it twice!

 

Not until a few hours later, when I reviewed this image on my PowerBook, did I realize what I had done.  At an elevation of nearly 6 feet (even with excellent eyesight), this was not much more than a cluster of dead leaves.  At an elevation of a few inches, this was a rich field of forms, contrasts, values, textures, and earth tones.  No, this wasn’t a great photograph, but its role was pivotal.  It reawakened in me the possibilities of close-up work, and reopened my eyes to the worlds which exist always, but are seen only when you take a closer look.  Once reminded that these worlds exist, I now know to look for them.

 

With practice, I added worlds such as these to my “familiar territory”.  I eventually turned back to film (and subsequent scanning) after my confidence surpassed my cost-per-frame concerns, and then back to digital after retiring film altogether.  When I was younger (and shorter), I was closer to such scenery, and I marveled at the details nature packs into small packages.  Since taking this image, my childhood joy of discovering these close-up worlds has been reawakened, and a significant portion of my photography has been done with a macro lens.