My photography has always had one thing going for it – (and one thing only) – I am often in the right place at the right time.
It’s not too hard to catch up on words for the websites I keep updated. But, as would be expected, nothing beats being on hand for photos.
Just ask the travel editors who have made do with my photos for years. Even I couldn’t flub up images of cycling in fall foliage in New England, century-old boots from the Gold Rush atop the rugged Chilkoot Pass, or Stacy Allison’s mile-wide smile as she descended to base camp as the first American woman to summit Mount Everest.
Fortunately, one of the sites I keep up is Barnstorm Farm, the alpaca ranch where I live. Thus I was on hand to catch the delight of winning the first blue ribbon; the cat joining the warmth and affection of an alpaca birthing, and a cherished moment when a young vet giving a “well baby” check to a new cria spontaneously threw in a free kiss.
There is one flaw to this work pattern that I’ve just discovered. While inside writing this entry, I missed the first alpaca birth of the season – 20 feet from my window.