Ten years ago I’d have been very smug about capturing a Black-headed Gull in flight. Today though, I’m irritated with myself that this is the best shot of the day – which says something about the way my standards have shifted, but probably more about the unhelpful level of self-criticism to which I’m prone. It doesn’t seem to matter how often or how firmly I tell myself that doing this stuff every day can be a bit of a slog, not every photo can be a winner, and good enough is good enough… in the deeper recesses of my soul, I don’t believe any of it. Restauranteurs have a mantra that you’re only ever as good as the last meal you served, and if I’m honest with myself I feel the same way about photographs.
So, anyway. For the record, there were ten or a dozen dragonflies buzzing around Lucy’s Mill in Stratford this afternoon: three pairs of Common Darters ovipositing in tandem, plus at least one spare male, and somewhere between three and five male Migrant Hawkers. And the reason my self esteem has taken such a battering is that over a torrid three quarters of an hour I failed to get a single one of them (or pair, in the case of the Darters) in focus. I think I can honestly say that this is the first day of the entire Odonata season that I’ve failed to achieve a single focused image – but it might easily be the last day of the season, and there’s nothing like ending on a low to remind you that you’re only as good as your last blurry image.
Sigh.
