Low Light

Standing quiet on a dark, grassy hillside,
stars and clouds above,
scattered oaks and scattered cattle my only company.

I run my fingers over the camera’s controls,
guessing blindly at focus, aperture, shutter speed, framing.

Lock down the tripod head.
Lock up the viewfinder’s mirror.
Allow the camera to rest, settle, still.
Now take into my fingers’ grip the cable release, and… press.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight, and SNAP, the shutter closes.

The 20 or so seconds of processing time between exposure and display
seem an eternity to my impatient mind, but are nothing
compared to the 2 weeks I would wait as a teenager
for the drug store to deliver my prints. Nowadays
I can see my results, re-adjust the camera,
and make a second or third attempt,
all within a matter of minutes. 

Perfection is still far beyond me, but its nearer approach
seems now more swift, and my imagination

more in tune with my abilities and those of my camera.
Yet, still.
Instant gratification simply takes too long.
And more desire leads to more suffering. 

Now, there’s a business plan for you.

And despite my imaginings and my camera’s attempts
to capture a frozen moment forever still,
still the stars and planets continue on their charted paths,
oak boughs sway in the light breeze,
and cattle low and shift in the low,
low light of this midnight meadow.

4/26/2016