My camera battery ran out of juice. But it doesn’t matter much on this flat-light day when almost all the usual users of the sheep creek delta are elsewhere. The sun just tried to burn the clouds off of Mt. Roberts but gave up after I used the last of my battery power photographing its effort.
Now I stand, camera battery in my armpit, enjoying an impressionist’s reflection of Roberts in a tidal pond. A rising wind threatens to render the image too abstract for the camera. Aki stands by my side, sniffing the wind for promising smells. Nearby the creek makes it brief transit to Gastineau Channel where mergansers wait for it to deliver food. Just before the wind ruins the reflection, I slip the battery back into the camera, raise it to my eye and read in the viewfinder, “low battery.” The creek mumbles calm sounding words in a language I can’t understand. I listen to the moving waters, image a pre-symphony crowd full of cautious optimism as the house lights dim.