I Went For A Walk Without My Camera

When Isaac gave me advice on starting a blog, alongside posting everyday, taking good pictures and making people care was the warning never to go cameraless. Today, I committed the sin.

Only 20 feet from my apartment, I saw the full-grown rice fields and took my first mental picture. In my head, I juxtaposed the long yellow strands with the tiny green shoots cheekily poking out from the murky water only two months prior. Next, I watched as a small yellow butterfly circled around a group of pink carnations and I imagined it keeping still, just long enough for my invisible camera to capture.

And though I’ve never taken an actual panoramic, I spun around slowly, then a little faster downloading the green mountains, the traditional roofed houses and the many black power-lines playing house to the village’s entire bird population. I took it all in and I saved it, for myself, on the desktop of my heart, in a private folder.

A few more steps and surprise, surprise, I was greeted by my friend. He was waiting for me outside of his house. “You late,” he said. I laughed thinking, it’s a Saturday!  “Come come.” He took me to his garden. I watched as his 78 year old hands trembled cutting the vine of a perfectly round watermelon. “This this, number one,” he said. “Camera?” he asked. “Nai, not today,” I answered.

After calling his wife to join us in the garden, he washed the watermelon, scrubbing it with a brown sponge between his tanned and wrinkled fingers. I took a quick snap of this. Staring at the frozen moment I wished to hold hands with him. He reminded me of my own grandfather and the countless times we’d sat together where I played with his smooth fingers whilst he kissed my forehead.

Now the three of us stood around an old bench, beautiful amber wood, just screaming to be photographed as a sharp dangerous-looking square blade attached to a tiny wooden handle pierced through the green melon. Ah, don’t cut yourself I thought as I inwardly videoed the “big moment”. Red. It was so red. And fresh! So fresh that the skin cracked open by itself, begging to be eaten.

I was given the first slice. He and his wife watched in anticipation. Delicious? Delicious, I proclaimed. It was. It  was the sweetest I’d ever tasted.

12 comments

  1. Sometimes I feel we should keep the camera away and store everything in our memories. But just so you know, you are very good with descriptive writing. I didn’t need a camera either to picture the moments. 😃

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This reminds me of ‘g.ma’. She tells me, at her age (late 70’s), she no longer has a desire for photographs. They just sit in a box in the closet! She much prefers taking pictures, the way you did for this post. That way, she always has the pictures with her, not needing a camera to prove anything. (actually, I think the modern camera intimidates her. :-))
    Thank you for another lovely post. ren

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Really nice story.. When I read the first paragraph I thought “ok where’s she going with this” and then reading it till the end… I must say u are exceptional! Real nice

    Liked by 1 person

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