Packing a camera; but rarely unpacking it.

I went through a photography phase about three years ago. I took pictures of everything. I was that annoying friend that would constantly be yelling "Wait! Let me get a picture." Then, like so many of my phases, it passed. I now say that I "appreciate photography." Which is true. I love looking at and studying other people's photography but my camera collects dust.

There really seems to be no better time to get back into taking pictures then on this trip. Yet, I've refrained. Like so many other things in life, I tend to make picture taking into a complicated process involving the need for perfection. Here is my thought process when I see something worthy of a photo: "Should I get a picture of that? Yes, I should. Will I look like a tourist if I pull my camera out? I will, so maybe I won't take a picture. But I really should take a picture because its beautiful/strange/a moment that will embarrass someone later. Maybe I'll just hold my camera by my side or I'll hide behind a tree/inside my car/around the corner of the building. Fine, I'll just look like a tourist. But, is there a better angle/better lighting/better subject? I want this to look artsy, not like its going to be put into a family photo album. I'll just come back later when no one is around/it has better lighting/I have a new camera." And in the end, I don't take the picture.

A lot of times there is something beautiful that I see from the car. I could pull over and take a picture but pulling my camera out of my purse and getting out of my car would take effort. So instead I hold the camera out the window and take a random shot:

Or I aim my camera out the window while driving 75 mph:

Both options really compromise the photo op.

Quick Badlands story: I did a drive through Custer State Park yesterday. The park is known for its abundance of prairie wildlife. I made an excellent decision to try a gravel country road and came to a field that first had antelope, then had tons of prairie dogs. Prairie dogs might not seem so exciting but they intrigued me enough to make me go through the effort of trying to photographically document them. So I see a family of prairie dogs running towards a big black rock by the side of the road and pull up to the rock to get a picture and the rock blinks an eye. It was a bison chilling out by the side of the road. My first thought was "he's going to eat me." My second thought was "I need to get a picture." And my third thought was "Now he is going to eat me." I realize that the chance of the bison eating me is slim, being that they are herbivorous and all. But they could at the least maim me pretty badly and then barter me to carnivorous wolves later. So here is the picture that I got:

Notice the healthy distance. [Side note to the quick Badlands story: I briefly looked up bison on the web to see if they truly didn't eat meat and found two interesting facts: 1) In the U.S., the words bison and buffalo are interchanged and mean the same animal, but buffalo is a misnomer. True buffalo live only in Asia and Africa. 2) Bison are among the most dangerous animals to humans in the national parks system. They may look slothful but they are really agile little suckers.]