Behind the Lens :: Phyllis Johnson

He stalked the right shot for days. Waiting for the right light. Just the right wave to come up and lick the shoreline. Walking the shore, his footprints left an image of determination and zest for the great outdoors. Camera swinging at his neck, the salt breeze brushes his cheeks and the crisp air left a slight chill.

Digging into his pockets, he fished out a pair of gloves to warm his fingers. He usually didn’t like wearing them. It felt less in control of things to have something in the way of his tactile senses. Feeling that the moment was approaching for a great shot, the gloves were once again shoved into his pocket.

Some birds caught his attention and soon the shutter was snapping away. Taking flight over his head, it almost appeared as though they were suspended midair. He smiled to himself. Life doesn’t get any better than this. Sun peeking through a few clouds but not enough to cast a lot of shadow, he sidestepped the froth coming up near his shoes.

His job took him outdoors where he could embrace nature. Freezing its beauty for others to see for years to come. It was am admirable job. It could take him many frames to get just the right shot but when he did, it was so satisfying. Kind of like a ride on a roller coaster with the thrill after climbing the crest and having your breath caught in your throat on the way down. Exhilarating, yes. Exhausting, that too. Exciting, definitely. And one of the greatest things, his work was also a Muse for others… without doubt…

© Phyllis Johnson

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