There was a time in my younger days, in my view camera days when I imagined my photographic season aligning with the baseball season. Although that has passed (I wrote about that here) I still try to honor my commitment to my photography on two particular days: New Years Day when I go to the darkroom and on the opening day of the baseball season when I get out there with a camera. One might imagine from this that I’m a huge baseball fan. I’m not.
This year’s opening day fell on April 2nd and I was barely aware. This was a typical Sunday filled with tasks and family time. We have an Easter Egg hunt and a formal tea on the ticket for the afternoon but I have a brief window in the morning and so I set out.
The day before I had spotted a couple of locations from the car that looked promising. At the first I realize right away that the sun is exactly on the wrong side of the street and so a pic or two for reference and on to the second. This is just a scruffy bunch of trees at a curve in the road, with a steep slope falling away, houses visible through a screen of winter bare branches and trunks.
I walk along, recalling what I thought I had noticed the day before, considering what might possibly make a picture. The spring sun is warm and the wind that had been tormenting us seemed at last exhausted. It is good to be out, with nothing to do but look.
On this day that is almost literally true, I had grabbed my camera bag from a previous outing, cameras still loaded but I find myself at this moment with one frame remaining. Determined to make it count I considered my options carefully. Finally my eyes land upon a cluster of trees with the curve of a concrete water tower beyond, a glimpse of a house puncturing the space on the left. A quick check with the meter, a double check that the reading has been transferred to the camera, a deep breath and ca-chack. Throw my pitch and I’m off the mound.