Honolulu Zoo
Kodachrome 64, Drum Scan
1987 or '88 my wife and I were at the Honolulu Zoo on its front lawn/park area on a Sunday. Noon hour. Many families were having picnic lunches and it was obvious that the park was a popular neighborhood center of community, beyond its function as the entrance area to the zoo.
There was an enormous flock of pigeons gathered in one area. I've never seen one of such size. Someone must have been feeding them popcorn or something. Every 30 seconds or so, the entire flock would take off, rising straight up about 10-15 feet, then settling back again. Each flight was accompanied by frantic cooing, but much more so by the incredible sound of their wings flapping and the rushing of air.
Almost like clockwork, the flock rose and settled, over and over. Endlessly. With that incredible mixture of sound. It was almost mesmerizing.
From about ten feet away, for five consecutive "flights" I shot into the dense cloud of birds. It was impossible to see any detail. It was just a blinding white blur of bird bodies and wings and cooing and rushing of air. I had an inexpensive early Canon EOS film SLR and a 70-210 Canon zoom. I was shooting somewhere near the long end of the zoom range. My first auto focus camera. I just hoped the AF system would lock onto something in the dazzling cloud of feathers each time.
Everyone has had the experience of discovering something they hadn't anticipated in a shot. Positive or negative. This was especially true during the film era, when one often didn't see results of slide film exposures until weeks after running rolls through the camera.
Four of the images were uninteresting blurred shots of pigeons flying around. This is the fifth image. The little boy with the red shirt and blue pants, his mouth seemingly wide and his eyes open in wonderment, in the midst of the mass of flying birds was actually many yards behind the flock, sitting with his family, eating lunch. I never saw him when I was shooting. But the camera did. He was never part of the scene I was seeing. But there he is! And he makes the image.
I scanned this slide sometime in 1993 and, since then, first as an IRIS "Giclee" print and now as an Epson large format print has been hanging in our house.
I show this image for many reasons. One is that I present it as an argument that sharpness can be an over-rated element of image-making. Nothing in this image is sharp. Nothing. There are out-of-focus issues, lens blur, camera motion blur, subject movement blur everywhere. I love it.
Rich