When I was a boy I used to go fishing a lot. Not too often in a boat, but mostly on local piers along the Niagara River, Lake Erie or Lake Ontario in and around Buffalo, NY where I lived. Sometimes my Dad would come with me and hang out and other times he would drop me off with a couple of my friends. As I got a little older I would lash my fishing rod onto the frame of my red Huffy bike, strap my tackle box to the rear rack and peddle all the way down to Niagara Street myself. Neither my parents nor I ever thought twice about me riding down main streets by myself, miles from home, but I guess it was a different time then.

I would spend hours sitting on those old wooden or concrete structures that protruded into the water with my Dad, my friends or by myself. The fact is that I didn’t catch very many fish. But even at a relatively young age I realized that it wasn’t all about catching fish. The fishing was a means to an end because I was having a great time talking about all the girls I liked that would never want to be seen with me, telling stories and bad jokes, and just meeting other people, particularly the old timers.

I was taking in a world that was different from the world of my family, school, Boy Scouts or Little League. This was my special private world, void of expectations, but full of daydreams, fresh air, snacks and soda pop, and if I was lucky, sometimes some “keepers”.

Perhaps you are wondering why I am bringing up my fond memories of being young and going fishing. Well what I described is how I have felt for over 45 years when I go out photographing. I am in another special world. Not the world of my family, work, religion, politics or a hundred other things, both wonderful and not so good. This is my special world of seeing and just taking in life’s moments that are surrounding me as I walk, hike or drive. It’s wonderful and another means to an end, just like it was when I was “fishing”, even if I don’t end up ever snapping the shutter or getting any “keepers”. Of course not making an exposure or capturing a wonderful image is not the intended outcome, but just as I always hoped to catch a nice fish, it doesn’t always happen. Seeing the world and taking it all in, on your own terms, in your own time, is really special and an opportunity to be grateful for.

Think about it. You might enjoy yourself, and without the stress or self-imposed expectations of the results, you may get more “keepers” than before.