I posted a color picture of this scene on my local photoclub's favorite's page the other day. I knew it wasn't the best composition. It was a piece that I had struggled with, taking numerous shots of the truck and the solar panels in the waning light. As I was shooting the moon came up, the solar panels moved and everything changed, but I was struck by the moment -- the moon over the truck and the panels -- and although this shot wasn't great it at least preserved all the elements for me. The leader of the club quickly noticed some of the flaws in the shot and offered advice on how to make it better. I thanked her and explained what I had been trying to achieve. Sometimes a picture is worth a 1000 words and sometimes you can can say it better with the words themselves, here's my attempt at that. And, thank you Lisa for inspiring this poem:
I struggle to create a composition that can take it all in –
old blue truck, modern army of sun-seeking solar panels
stalwart lavender mountains, golden grass,
all under a rising moon
“You have to pick and choose,” the photographer warns me,
“Decide what it is you are trying to say.”
“It’s the photo journalist in you that craves it all,” she concludes,
with a nod and a period,
as if that settles the matter.
It doesn’t. The story pretty much tells itself.
I have nothing to do with it.
An innocent bystander like the rest of you
Observing it all –
Blue truck giving up the ghost, array of solar panels
following in its wake, old giving birth to new
giving birth to old, giving birth to new
Hope bowing to disappointment
Under the watchful eye of the stalwart mountains
And the moon that never ceases to rise.
It is the only composition there is
Yet, we remain optimistic that we can change something
while the moon and the mountains smile
And the truck and solar panels
and all our best made plans