After returning from my period of work away from home, Joel and I had intended to venture out together, as had been our custom. Yet fate, ever whimsical, had other plans. He was overtaken by a most disagreeable cold which lingered obstinately for several days, robbing him even of his voice, and leaving him in no condition for rambles abroad.
Thus, with reluctant heart, I resolved to take a solitary stroll. The air was gentle enough, though the absence of companionship rendered the way a little quieter than I might have wished. My camera, though faithful, felt almost unfamiliar in my hands, as though it, too, had grown idle during my absence. I captured but a few images, for the rhythm of observation and the instinct for composition, once second nature, now seemed to lie dormant, waiting to be awakened once more.
It was not so much the photographs themselves that mattered, but the act of stepping out, of reacquainting myself with the world through a lens. I sensed that, in time, the old ease would return—that subtle harmony between eye, heart, and machine which makes the smallest detail sing. For now, it was enough simply to begin again, however modestly, and to know that the habit of seeing had not altogether deserted me.
Sony A7RV
FE 16mm f1.8 G
Linking Sign2
