15 + 6 points
(Still) Wildlife Photography by Al gae, Cameron
September 11th, 2006 11:23 AM
I honestly had no intention of doing this task. Firstly, because I myopically didn't see the fun in it. And secondly, because when I did see the fun in it; there were some really amazing submissions by that time, that I couldn't quite hope to match.
But fate is a fickle mistress, and I was forced into documenting something strange we saw on my way to the DeYoung recently...
We were showing an out of town friend around, and as we walked through the park, we saw something small and gray in the trees.
Out of instinct, Ms. Gae stopped dead and was very quiet; for her first reaction upon seeing a strange beast is quiet observation.
Out of instinct, I went bounding towards it, hooting; for my first instinct upon seeing a strange beast is to prance towards it and make friends.
Alas, both of us were disappointed when the little critter moved not an inch. For he was not a creature of flesh and blood, but one of poly-fill and synthetic fur.
I believe his seamstress god had made him in the form of a raccoon, but he had been subjected to much hardship in his short life; he was torn, ragged and filthy.
He lay motionless on his perch, head down as if tired, or in some sort of silent prayer. It was a bittersweet sight, to see so majestic a beast in such a state. As a good documentarian, I snapped a few shots and left him to his quiet meditation.
But fate is a fickle mistress, and I was forced into documenting something strange we saw on my way to the DeYoung recently...
We were showing an out of town friend around, and as we walked through the park, we saw something small and gray in the trees.
Out of instinct, Ms. Gae stopped dead and was very quiet; for her first reaction upon seeing a strange beast is quiet observation.
Out of instinct, I went bounding towards it, hooting; for my first instinct upon seeing a strange beast is to prance towards it and make friends.
Alas, both of us were disappointed when the little critter moved not an inch. For he was not a creature of flesh and blood, but one of poly-fill and synthetic fur.
I believe his seamstress god had made him in the form of a raccoon, but he had been subjected to much hardship in his short life; he was torn, ragged and filthy.
He lay motionless on his perch, head down as if tired, or in some sort of silent prayer. It was a bittersweet sight, to see so majestic a beast in such a state. As a good documentarian, I snapped a few shots and left him to his quiet meditation.
