Watching The World Wake Up by The Narratographer

Watching The World Wake Up by The Narratographer

In all honesty, I am disgusted with myself. I decided to head out this morning, even though the forecast was for rain and heavy cloud. I guessed that if the weather folks are so often wrong when they predict sunshine with nice cloud cover, they could be equally as wrong when they forecast rain. And, low and behold, they were talking nonsense again. This time though, I am happy about it. So I originally wanted to go to Kimmeridge. I was hoping for a low tide where I could get the reflections of the sunrise on the broken rocks. But, as I pulled up at a deserted Kimmeridge, I realised that the tide was so high that I couldn’t even get onto the beach. I jumped straight back into the car and, realising that it was already 7.30am, I floored it all the way to Swanage. So onto the reason I am disgusted with myself. Well, I arrived at Swanage just before sunrise. I ripped my bag and tripod from the boot of my car and hurried over to the jetty that sticks out from the main street in Swanage. The sun was beautiful and warm, as if God himself had spilt a large jar of honey and as I got into position, I watched it slowly drip into the sea. The scene was almost perfect, colourful and calm. I couldn’t wait to see what I could get on camera. I decided that it would look best on one exposure, six stops should just about do it. But the sky was so much brighter than the rest of the scene that I would need to use at least 5 stops of grad to balance it all out. By the time I had gotten everything set up, at least another 5 minutes had elapsed. At least now I was ready. Around 30 or so seconds into the exposure, I was joined by an old boy who decided to stand right in front of my camera and ask if he could go and sit on the jetty. He was already in the way and getting in the image and I barked this fact in his direction. He looked shocked and somewhat disappointed, and he turned around and walked out of shot, making his lonely way along the seafront and back towards town. I felt dreadful. I was so rude to him and there was simply no need. But I was desperate to get the image and I have not had the best of lives in recent weeks. But that does not excuse my rudeness. As the last few weeks have slipped by, I have started to become someone I do not recognise, someone without patience. When you give and give and give, you eventually end up empty. If you do not get refilled, either by people or by life, you start to stutter and stall. No matter who you are, you struggle to be that person and that is exactly what has been happening to me recently. If I ever see that old man again, I will take him for a cup of coffee and apologise. Rudeness has never been something I would associate with myself. But in the midst of life, we become what we hate. I hope that this is where I draw the line.

The Narratographer: Photos