Tuesday, July 14, 2020

Elegy for a dead bug

Spoiler alert; this is the picture I will be writing about:

As I perhaps overshare, shooting pictures at an extreme close up, or with an extreme zoom, all while eschewing a tripod, is very hard to do and get a decent focus. Flowers move in the wind. Birds fly and dart about constantly. Bugs flit. And there's the photographer too. His hand jitters ever so slightly. He sways with breath. His heart beats. It doesn't take much.

Sometimes I wander around trying to get pictures and I think of Audobon. I have no sympathy for his going around killing and dissecting and stuffing birds in order to get a good painting of them, but I will admit to at least a growing understanding.

And so it was that I saw this dead bug. His body was complete on the outside, so much so that at first I wasn't sure he was dead. But as the wind tossed him around at the slightest breath it was clear to me. Morticians working with open caskets would surely have and easier time of it if we all had exoskeletons.

I took some pictures of the bug outside and then brought it inside to more perfect conditions. I braced my camera against my stable knee and took my pictures like a biathlete target shooting; in between the beats of my heart. Fortunately one picture turned out okay.

I hope they name a society after me.

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