Walk Your Own Path
Hmmm, is being a left-handed monkey wrenchyour badge of honour?
My interest in insects and photographingthem occasionally garners strange looks from casual observers. People who seeme walking nature trails with my telephoto lens generally assume I ambirdwatching. I mostly let this misconception stand as it avoids awkwardexchanges.
But when I kneel down and point mycamera at a tiny insect that escapes casual observation, raised eyebrows and puzzled expressions arecommon. I can sense the voice in their head. There is nothing there. What the devil ishe photographing?
This tends to happen even more at thistime of year. In cooler weather, insects that are still active are mostly foundon artificial surfaces warmed by the sun: sides of buildings, windows, wood ormetal railings. I have staked out a few natural areas that have these kinds ofsurfaces.
A strip of Confederation Beach Park inHamilton is one of my regular, cool weather haunts. In particular, there is arestaurant (closed in the winter months) constructed of concrete painted white.It also has a patio with a half size, white concrete wall around it. Thesewhite wall seems to attract insects and accordingly attracts my interest.
On a warm day earlier this week, I wasscouring the walls of this restaurant with my camera at the ready. A manstanding out in front of the restaurant (I suspect he was the owner or manager)was giving me that puzzled expression. The following exchange occurred.
“What are you looking for?”
“Insects. The white walls of yourbuilding seems to attract them.”
“Is somebody paying you to do that?”
“No, it’s just a hobby.”
I could read his mind as a suspiciousexpression emerged on his face. I don’t believe that for a minute. He’s upto something nefarious and I don’t like it. I smiled and moved on so Iwould not draw his ire. But I did circle back later, when the man had left, fora closer look.
My interest in insects is relatively new.But strange looks from other people are not. The fact of the matter is that Iam a bit south of normal. I sing a different tune. I am a sore thumb. Aunicorn. A left-handed monkey wrench. Pick your metaphor of choice.
It can be disconcerting when you fallinto the category of a puzzle piece that does not fit. But eventually, with thewisdom of age, you come to terms with the fact that you are who you are. Youlearn to be comfortable in your own identity even if that identity puzzlesother people.
Frankly, I have come to believe thatbeing normal, a relative state at best, is overrated. It does make youblend in with the crowd which is comforting. But some of us were not meant toblend in. We were meant to go our own way however off the beaten path that maybe. We accept puzzled looks and raised eyebrows as a badge of honour. Our mottobecomes:
This is who I am. Sorry if that makesyou uncomfortable. But that is your issue, not mine.
~ Now Available Online from Amazon,Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage –Stories by Michael Robert Dyet
~ Michael Robert Dyet is also the author of Untilthe Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel (now out of print) which wasa double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’swebsite at www.mdyetmetaphor.com .
~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka That Make Me GoHmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Ifyou’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularlyto my page for postings once a week.
