A Man With A Plan

I like to have a plan – it simplifies things.

When I go out with my camera I like to know what I’m going to do.  I’ve wasted lots of time in the past by doing the exact opposite.  I’ve either set out with my head full of ideas but uncertain of which one to pursue, or set out with my heart full of hope and no idea at all of what I want to achieve.  I’m not alone in this and it can affect the most experienced of photographers from time to time.  It still happens to me now and again, but nowhere near as much as it used to.

Recently I’ve been heading out at sunrise to try and photograph snipe.  I know that they are around so I’ve been setting off with high hopes of success.  For  my latest attempt I arrive on location and settle down to wait, watch and listen (So far I’ve only had an occasional, fleeting glance of rapidly disappearing birds, or heard them calling from a distance or thrumming high overhead.  Not the best of starts to a new project I’ll admit.).  At one point I spot several male wheatears foraging nearby and I’m tempted to give them a go.  But snipe are my target, so I keep waiting.

Wheatear and I have a bit of history.  For the last few years I’ve been awaiting their return to the moors each spring and tried to photograph them without success.  They are always very nervous and keep a long way away from anything that moves, particularly me.  It’s as if they know exactly the distance to keep between us to stop me from getting a picture that’s worth keeping.  I think that they are toying with me, laughing at my pitiful attempts to photograph them.

The morning moves on, I’ve still not taken a single snipe photo and it’s time for me to go.  I’m driving along looking forward to breakfast when I spot a bird ahead of me.  Ever so steadily I slow to a stop, lift my camera, compose, meter and shoot.  Now I’m looking forward to breakfast with a satisfying glow inside, having taken a pretty little picture of… a wheatear.

I like to have a plan – but I don’t need to be a slave to it.