Before I start in on section two of my essay Snapshots of the work on Counting on the Woods, I'd like to confess that just yesterday my daughter showed me that nowadays we blog viewers can click on any photo in a post -- and, presto, all the photos in that post show up in a row along the bottom of the screen AND can be seen in a large size after being clicked. Probably every one of you reading this already knew about this added blogspot innovation, but I did not. Last week I did increase the spread size on the page, but if this causes problems for anyone, please let me know! I will even give you my email address for the first time should you need to contact me: firstname.lastname@example.org.
OK, here is the essay's section 2, BOX SCORES
One question I have never fully resolved is whether it counts as work to sit outside--in a box--for an hour or two, near a bird place.
The cubicles of the modern corporation would seem spacious in comparison to the box I ended up in, but at least they are clearly a place where people go to get paid to work. Why else would they be tolerated? The same clarity doesn't apply to a cardboard box.
And what does the bluebird I'm taken by know of business plans and bottom lines? I am not even certain what it is I expect of him, except that I have tried photographs of this bird, this post, this nest before. I was always too far away. Not connected enough.
So my only plan now is simply to get closer. I suspect universal truth, but what I think about is cost efficiency. Would this box effort mean I am doing more work, less work or none at all?
I could figure out that setting up the box is definitely work, especially when its size most closely resembles the desk chair that it once held. Getting tripod, camera, stool and body to fit inside is be a proper chore, but does the same hold true for just sitting there? I was shooting at that time with very slow film, Velvia (ISO 50), and I was inside the box for a dawn-breaking hour and a half. I needed to remain alert, of course, and move my right hand every so often to click the remote control, but otherwise just sit, stay calm, and sit some more.
The end result has made me willing to risk not "working" ever again. One of my favorite photographs for the book. I hope the happy coming together I experienced was the same somehow for my bluebird. It seems he knew his part all along, and I learned mine. Now, if only the questions I always ask about life could achieve equal clarity and sharpness where I to pay similar attention to situation and focus.
|eastern bluebird at his nest, from Counting on the Woods|
|eastern bluebird, on the post containing the nest, but "always too far away!" It was more like a test shot than a photo I would use for a note card or in the book, but it's still important, which is why I show it here today.|
|I call this more recent bluebird photo "No, YOU bathe first."|