Always stop and take the shot!

From the moment I committed myself to the challenge of becoming a decent photographer I found myself developing a sense of what constitutes a decent photograph. Over the years I have found that the best way to understand how to create interesting images is to take lots and lots of photographs and then reconcile what I thought was going to work with what actually did work - and then try and repeat the constituents of the working shots in the ones that follow.


What I have gleaned is that there are many facets to a good shot - lighting, atmosphere, terrain, foreground, framing, parallax, depth of field, focus... - and that remembering all of these as a gestalt not only requires a lot of practice but may actually be an endless endeavor. On reflection, perhaps that in itself represents the unbounded fascination I have for the art of photography.


Now, as I travel in search of images, I am always casting my eye about looking for a shot - a habit which, while difficult to cultivate initially, eventually becomes second nature. Of course seeing a shot does not actually create the shot and it is surprisingly easy to catch a potential image out of the corner of one's eye but then not act to capture it! 


This is a disappointment I have suffered through on many occasions but it was one particular incident on my trip to Tasmania in February 2023 that finally got me to resolve never to let another image become lost to indifference.

I had just emerged from the wilds of the Western Arthurs Traverse and after a brief rest at the wonderfully eclectic Bush Inn in New Norfolk I was on the road again traveling past Hobart and heading North on my way to Freycenet (a trip that would eventually yield Akasha (Aether)).


It was early in the morning as I picked up Route 1 out of Hobart and, while the sun still quite low, the clear blue sky was lending quite an intensity to the lighting which was really popping both colors and shadows in the fields all along the roads. The self powered sprayers (see image) were active in many of them presumably taking advantage of the cool early morning to maximize their effectiveness and I was enjoying watching the sunlight catching their misty crowns as the highway passed easily under the car. 


As I coasted around a bend and started to power up a steep hill I caught a wonderful sight. 


A flock of sheep had decided to take advantage of the active sprayers and had gathered under them to wash and cool themselves. I could immediately see the shot! Using a long lens to compress the depth I would be able to capture a closeup of the flock (perhaps head and shoulders only) framed by the green growth underfoot and the sprayer bars above. The air would be filled with a fine mist of water droplets lit by the sun from behind and the faces of the sheep would be silhouetted and shadowed providing contrast and texture.


"What a wonderful shot that would be," I thought, as I powered on up the hill. About 2km further on I started to think that I really should have stopped to take that shot but it was already too late to go back.


I would love to be able to present the shot I envisaged to you but, alas, it persists, even now, only in my mind's eye. 

Never again!

The Bush Inn, New Norfolk, Tasmania, Australia

Mobile irrigation sprayers