originally published in Prairie Fire Volume 15 Number
2;
Reprinted as "His Story of Photography" in the
Jan-Feb 1997 issue of Photo
Life, along with a photo.
Also reprinted in Northern Suns,
edited by
David G. Hartwell & Glenn Grant Tor Books (ISBN
0-312-86461-2).
11
Having replaced the dark slide, I pull the holder out
and carry the tripod and camera over to near the creek. Halfway there I
have to stop and put it down. I'm not as young as I once was, and my back
and arms ache with the effort.
The picture can wait a few moments. I
go and sit down beside the water, gazing at the bottom. After a few moments
a small trout swims tentatively by. Even through the ripples I can see
the cataracts that cloud its eyes, the cancerous lumps that form a crazy
stairway down its back.
A water beetle swims by, and the fish
lunges desperately as it senses the disturbance. The beetle almost escapes,
but a quick thrash to the right and the trout has the beetle's backside
in its mouth. A lot of energy expended for a small meal.
Anywhere in the world, the drama I just
watched would have sold well on the nets. But I just can't convince myself
that it would really be photography.
