After weeks of watching the sun soften to the perfect glow, roughly from 7:00 to 8:30 pm, and hours of studying for my upcoming final, I grabbed my cameras and headed to my car. After replacing the long dead batteries in my dad's old Nikon FM, I started driving. It wasn't about the destination, though a bridge left uncrossed on my last excursion seemed like a good starting point.
The sun played hide-and-seek with the clouds, intermittently casting rays of light through the foliage as I climbed into the underbrush.
As I approached the stream's edge, two large shapes darted towards a deep channel. Looking closer, several large bass sat at the bottom of the channel, mouths pointed upstream. In waters brimming with fry and minnows, the bass' size didn't surprise me, but their numbers did.
Much of my time in third and fourth grade was spent exploring the woods, lake, and nearby streams around the house. Fascinated with both fishing and biology, I caught whatever I could both for conquest and curiosity. My love for streams and creeks lingers as a tribute to my childhood and my dreams of someday returning to fly fishing.
Digital and analog. Different and just that.
I enjoyed the simplicity of the FM's three dot metering system, though I didn't trust it's inconsistent guidance. With my D7000 set up as similarly as possible to the FM (ISO and ASA at 400 with 35 f/1.8 and 50 f/1.4 lenses, respectively), I used it as a crutch that let me compare questionable exposure readings before shooting with the FM. Not taking notes for each shot was a mistake I'll need to correct next time, though, I don't know which pictures I used the D7000's meter on. Shooting and reviewing the results from both cameras has shown me a lot and will continue to do so.
After an hour, I returned to my car, continuing on back roads concerned only with my direction and the views around me.
Air blew through the open windows, clearing my head and cooling my body as I wound my way over and around the rolling hills.
I stopped at the top of a hill to look at the layered landscape bowing up and down across tree tops and fields in various shades of green.
More from the FM.
This trio was far too hungry to pay attention to me. The slap of the mirror briefly earned the attention of one horse before he returned to grazing.
Driving back, I knew this was only the first of many similar trips to come.
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