JetBird
I was out for a run, a little after sunrise. This bird was gliding right toward me. I do not know what kind of bird it is.
Should take a picture of that bird? It's coming right at me.
Then I thought, No, I'll never have time.
I was sure that as soon as I would get the camera ready, the bird would turn and fly off. I would never get a photo. I would be disappointed. Why make the effort? I'm just going to keep running.
So I kept running. Running is what I'm doing. I'm here to run, not take photos, this isn't even my good camera.
But, that bird just kept gliding. Straight at me. I don't know why I didn't lift that cell phone right away. I know I should always try. What do you have to lose?
Why do I argue with myself?
So I don't get the picture – who knows? I know, this is not going to work.
While I was arguing with myself, the bird kept gliding straight at me.
It didn't turn, and it was flying low, wonderfully slow.
I pushed the home button on my phone
a second passed. The bird flew closer.
I touched the camera icon. A second passed. The bird was almost on top of me.
The camera initialized, ready to go.
I pointed the phone at where I thought the bird was… literally pushing the button as I was lining up the shot. I was pointing straight up, the bird was slightly behind me now, I pushed the button. The bird was flying out of the frame.
The camera was moving, as I pushed the button, I thought, well that will be out of focus. The camera was moving so fast there is no way I got that shot, oh well... At least I tried. At least I tried.
When I got home I saw the bird wasn't really out of focus. And, I saw something else… Something I hadn't seen as the bird was flying toward me.
I hadn't realized that perhaps 10 minutes earlier and 20,000 or 30,000 feet higher, a jet had flown that same path and left a contrail. Who would've thought the bird would line up perfectly above my head, and aligned with that contrail?
Photo by Danielle (March 30, 2014.)
I was out for a run, a little after sunrise. This bird was gliding right toward me. I do not know what kind of bird it is.
Should take a picture of that bird? It's coming right at me.
Then I thought, No, I'll never have time.
I was sure that as soon as I would get the camera ready, the bird would turn and fly off. I would never get a photo. I would be disappointed. Why make the effort? I'm just going to keep running.
So I kept running. Running is what I'm doing. I'm here to run, not take photos, this isn't even my good camera.
But, that bird just kept gliding. Straight at me. I don't know why I didn't lift that cell phone right away. I know I should always try. What do you have to lose?
Why do I argue with myself?
So I don't get the picture – who knows? I know, this is not going to work.
While I was arguing with myself, the bird kept gliding straight at me.
It didn't turn, and it was flying low, wonderfully slow.
I pushed the home button on my phone
a second passed. The bird flew closer.
I touched the camera icon. A second passed. The bird was almost on top of me.
The camera initialized, ready to go.
I pointed the phone at where I thought the bird was… literally pushing the button as I was lining up the shot. I was pointing straight up, the bird was slightly behind me now, I pushed the button. The bird was flying out of the frame.
The camera was moving, as I pushed the button, I thought, well that will be out of focus. The camera was moving so fast there is no way I got that shot, oh well... At least I tried. At least I tried.
When I got home I saw the bird wasn't really out of focus. And, I saw something else… Something I hadn't seen as the bird was flying toward me.
I hadn't realized that perhaps 10 minutes earlier and 20,000 or 30,000 feet higher, a jet had flown that same path and left a contrail. Who would've thought the bird would line up perfectly above my head, and aligned with that contrail?
Photo by Danielle (March 30, 2014.)