For subscribers
Commentary
Life beyond the clicking camera
Instead of trying to preserve every moment in a photograph, perhaps we should try to soak the moments in and be fully present in them.
Sign up now: Get ST's newsletters delivered to your inbox
The writer does not click many photographs but here he is, captured in one himself, in a forest in Australia.
PHOTO: DAVID TITTENSOR
Wonder laps at the ocean’s edge. Imprint your foot in the wet sand and quickly it fades as if you were never there. It’s a sly nudge from nature, a gentle reminder of our own impermanence and the fleeting quality of things. And so, knee deep in the Southern Ocean, at the seaside town of Torquay, less than two hours from Melbourne, as my granddaughter, 11, rides small waves, I watch her intently.
In my backpack is a phone and this time it stays there. I’m trying to absorb, not fumble, angle, aim and interrupt my own moment with her. Think of it as a sensory imprinting. As a child’s voice cuts through the growling blue amidst a salty wind, no photograph by me can convey all this.
