On the evening following my dissertation defense, my parents surprised me with a swanky camera. This was a huge surprise as my parents are not the expensive gift types and certainly not on a non-birthday or non-Christmas occasion. I was thrilled with the gift and the idea that now I would have an excellent tool for taking great pictures of my future children. That was six years ago and in spite of the fact that I have landed a photo subject, I have yet to master (or even really learned all that much) about the camera itself. Sigh.
Yesterday however, none of that even mattered. Why? Because although we spent the morning in a super photogenic spot (pumpkins and corn mazes and hayrides and tiny tractors) and I had managed to remember to bring said camera along for the trip (miracle of miracles), the battery was dead. Entirely, no questions asked, dead. So while Yogi did what he could to enjoy the farm (the boy has got to start walking soon, he’s missing out) I was left with only the phone on my camera for capturing the moments.
And I guess there is also my own memory. That should mean something to a word person I imagine. Here are a few images from the word camera.
My wife balancing Yogi on her lap while steering with her free hand and pedaling around a track filled with very small people trying to drive but mostly bumping into things.
Yogi meeting a piglet for the very first time. Eyes wide and excited rattling of the pen (I actually got a phone shot of this one). Laughing when they nosed through the dirt close to his foot. He could have watched those pigs all day.
Waiting as my wife settled him in the horse swing and laughing when his head failed to clear the horses’ mane. Yogi is a small man, that’s for sure. The only way you could tell that the horse had a passenger were the small feet banging on either side.
The sound of laughing and water splashing as Yogi panned for gold.