Which camera is best is a good question to ask. Although there is no such thing, but rather a series of technical parameters you have to apply for yourself.
There’s a mystique attached to photographic practice based on outdated traditions. Digital technology means there is less need than ever to obsess about equipment, but the culture persists.
Who made the world, asks Mary Oliver in her poem The Summer Day. It’s a simple line I often return to. Read it and think it, although I haven’t reflected on the words extensively which they need.
There’s a little known Canadian film called I’ve Heard the Mermaids Singing. I watched it many years ago. A friend, who was a Buddhist, said “it’s a nice film” in an emphatic way.
I learnt photography many years ago with black and white film and darkroom processing. I used Ilford FP4 and basic cameras including a Zenit, Praktica, and the school’s Yashica.
Photography is partly conceptual and partly aesthetic. It’s based on technical knowledge comparable with other crafts, like using a saw in carpentry or cutting marble for a sculpture.
Look closely at trees and this year’s leaves are already there. It might be hidden but with others, there are buds in waiting, made from last year’s sun.
The walk starts with a choice. Turn left, go down a pathway worn in the grass. The first time I went there felt like an adventure. This is not the mountains, it’s urban nature but the feelings are the same, different in size not quality.
Religions don’t interest me but philosophy does. Not so much the scholasticism of Western endeavour, but elsewhere and from ancient time. Aslan tells the children in Narnia: no you don't understand, there's an old magic, much older, which always rules.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it” she said and I replied “yes but not much autumn left. We’re on the cusp of winter.”