Out of the Moment

Photo and nature journal entries from a recent visit to Muir Woods

It's impossible to go to any beautiful landmark of nature or architecture without seeing cameras. We can't go more than five minutes without seeing someone taking a picture, and we'll probably snap one on our phones at some point. Which is wonderful--we are recording moments of awe, trying to capture places of wonder.

And we fail.

There is perhaps nothing that alienates us from our surroundings more than a screen. TVs take up the attention of everyone in the living room, more than half the people at any given party are on their phones, and we consume our stories through movies and television instead of books. Perhaps there aren't as many problems with a technology-obsessed generation as people think, but there certainly is a problem when technology is preventing us from experiencing real life. There is a problem when we claim to be living in the moment, experiencing something beautiful, when all that we're doing is seeing it second-hand through our cameras.

We take so many pictures in historic forests, ancient temples, museums, and what exactly are we trying to capture? The pictures we take can easily be replicated with a simple Google search. Are they really so special, just because we took them ourselves?

"Preserving a memory" seems to be the main idea behind the practice of non-stop picture taking. But what memories are we really forging, if the whole time we're on an adventure we only experience it through our camera lens?

Next time we get on a plane to somewhere exotic, or buy a ticket to an exclusive art show, perhaps we should consider leaving the cameras at home. A radical notion, I know. But consider the promise of a truly fulfilling experience, seen through our own eyes, unaffected by our ideas of artistic angles or the perfect instagram posts. Maybe we can capture moments more effectively than through instant, perfect replications of a scene right in front of us.

There are certainly other ways to record our experiences. One of the Naturalists at Outdoor Ed led a lesson on nature journals, and showed us a page with a gorgeous drawing of a hawk.

"I know this bird better than anything," She said. "Because I sat there for an hour, studying every inch of it, drawing it."

That's the feeling that I always want to capture. Knowing something so completely, that you can create your own version. Maybe we can capture our moments through drawings, or journal entries, or just breathless stares full of wonder. Anyone can take a picture, but not everyone can feel exactly the way you do, and see the world through your eyes. Preserve experiences in a way that makes them yours, and takes more time and thought than a click of a button.

Unless you're a professional photographer. In which case, you have several buttons to press. And some knobs to jiggle.