I bought my first 35mm camera, a range-finding Retina 1B, in 1957 while stationed in the U.S. Air Force in the wilds of Labrador. The only camera I'd ever had before that was an old Kodak Brownie which I'm sure many of you fondly remember. Learning the basics of slide photography was completely new to me and a great way to wile away the bitter-cold winter of that lonely northern outpost.
More than anything else, that camera opened my eyes. The air base was overloaded with personnel allowing a 4-day work week, so there was plenty of free time to poke around the rough, but beautiful Labrador bush that summer. In looking for pictures to take I began noticing things that had previously completely missed my attention. I discovered the huge difference between "seeing" and "observing." It was like being blind all my life and suddenly being awarded vision. Fields were no longer just fields, but a mosaic of patterns and colors, depressions and hillocks. The biodiversity of the North Country is not overwhelming, but sufficient enough to create mysteries of plant distribution. The unevenness of the vegetation sparked my curiosity and raised questions. Why did certain plants grow where they did? Was the arrangement random or controlled by physical factors? How did the colonization occur? In what order? Answers would not come until I studied plant ecology in graduate school years later, but it was the camera that trained my attention on plant distribution.
The camera guided my attention to more than just plants. How had I missed the subtle geologic features that now stood out like sore thumbs? The changing pattern of light and shadow throughout the day became fascinating. A completely dull landscape could be transformed into a panorama of exquisite beauty with a simple change of light angle. I took keen notice of how weather conditions affected lighting. Not only did the quality of light change from hour to hour, but also from day to day as warm and cold fronts moved through. I soon learned what photographers meant by "hard" and "soft" lighting and when to take advantage of either. The "magic hour" that the late Galen Rowell talked about became obvious. I started taking notes on the best times and weather conditions to expect unusual lighting. Being in the right place at the right time is 90% of good nature photography, but it isn't all dumb luck. Photographers know they must be ready when a cold front passes during the early morning and late afternoon hours. This is a prime time for dramatic lighting of the landscape because the sun pops into view at a low angle beneath dark clouds. I deeply regret every time I got caught in such lighting circumstances without my camera.
The advent of single-lens reflex cameras with interchangeable lenses opened up new areas to explore. I could now see right through the lens and focus from an inch to infinity. Photographing slime mold sporangia and tiny leaf litter insects unveiled an entirely new world. We unknowingly tramp over pristine habitats and thousands of micro-organisms with every step. Even the climate at ground level is dramatically different. This knowledge came unexpectedly. I remember a cold windy day in early April on Laurel Mountain. Although the day was clear and sunny, the wind made it feel like the low 40's. I stumbled upon trailing arbutus in full bloom along a wood edge. This beautiful pink flower hugs the ground and I was surprised to see it open on such a cold day. To photograph this prostrate stemmed flower close-up I had to lie down to get the camera into position. That's when the revelation came. At ground level there was no wind and the temperature felt 15 degrees warmer. That's because it probably was 15-20 degrees warmer! No wonder those flowers were blooming. Would I ever have made that simple discovery had I not gotten into close-up photography? I used to be amazed at seeing ground insects out on clear cold days. It is no longer a mystery to me. On a cold March morning many years ago I observed thousands of small black spiders moving through a field. It was close to freezing and I wondered how these cold blooded animals could move so quickly under those conditions. Had I lain down in the field I would have found my answer.
The film speed when I bought that first 35mm camera was very slow. An ISO rating of 10, compared to 50-400 today, provided dense color saturation, but made shooting the northern lights of Canada impossible. The year 1957 was the peak of the 11-year sun cycle and I was at the perfect latitude in Labrador to see the so-called aurora borealis. The northern lights were dazzling and variable every clear evening, but unfortunately, the time exposures on that slow film were too long to do those fascinating patterns of light any justice.
Field trips were not permitted in the school district where I taught, so I brought nature into my classroom with my camera. Since I retired my huge teaching slide collection is sitting in binders and trays in a closet. The only pictures I take now are on vacations, but while in Nova Scotia last fall I grew weary of carrying so much SLR equipment. In February I bought my first digital camera. That little digicam packs several types of film and many lenses into one small package that I carry on my belt. Digital has limitations and a long way to go to beat emulsion film, but it also has its advantages. Compactness and unlimited shooting are among them. When shooting film I always evaluated the scene before pressing the shutter button. Was the picture worth taking? Would the slide be a good addition to the collection? With digital I don't worry about that. The pictures cost only the electricity to recharge the camera batteries, so I shoot pictures with abandon at many angles and different exposures. When reviewing them on the computer I delete all but the very best. Of 87 images on the last download, I deleted all but 12.
Disadvantages of digital photography don't bother me too much. The pictures you take look great on a computer screen but printing them is a different story. Even the highest quality digital picture can't compare to a Kodak or Fujichrome slide or print. It is also a slow system to learn. My camera has more LCD screens than a field has goldenrods. After six months I have used barely half the available options. The reference manual is a hefty 263 pages. Remembering all the different camera settings is next to impossible. I carry a notebook in the camera bag that guides me through the computer screens to set the camera for special situations. Setting the camera in the proper shooting mode for subjects that don't hold still requires precious time. With a 35mm SLR I could be in shutter or aperture priority mode in a second with the simple turn of a dial. With my digital it might be 15 seconds before I'm ready to shoot, and that's only if I remember how to get to the mode and exposure setting without referring to my notebook. I can shoot pictures less than an inch away from a subject in super-macro mode, but getting to that mode requires 15 button presses.
Another disadvantage is a slight delay between the time you depress the shutter button and the time the picture is actually taken. It's less than a second, but you'd be surprised how much can change in that small time frame. When you press the shutter to shoot a butterfly on a flower, you might get only the flower. A smile on a person's face might change to a frown by the time the shutter clicks if they see you taking the picture.
Despite the drawbacks, that camera has made me take more excursions to the woods this past summer. It has even relieved me of the weight of field guides. A strange insect can be photographed and identified on the computer screen a few hours later.
I do miss my 35mm filters that gave me a lot of control. They are available for only a few digicams, so I haven't completely ignored my old Minolta SLR cameras. I'd also like to see off camera flash units for digicams. I don't like flash units mounted on the camera. If these improvements come, I may not be investing in a new SLR camera. I went digital because I wasn't sure a new SLR was worth the investment. Many people told me the digicams would never replace film, but I heard Kodak announce they will no longer be manufacturing film. Will 35mm photography be obsolete by mid-century? It sure seems headed that way.
