My situation was urgent. Well, sort of. I wanted to position myself for a photo. A horse and cart would soon pass by a collection of pumpkins at a farmstand.
I'd seen Amish people in this area of Ohio. It's not cool photographing them up close. But it's okay taking photos of their buggies.
Amish society emphasizes 'Gelassenheit,' a catchphrase for humility, modesty, and an aversion to self promotion. What a refreshing change from our culture where assertiveness is celebrated over meekness.
Several buggies passed by.
Then a different model of buggy approached. Unlike the others, this one didn't have a storm front. An elderly Amish couple sat on the bench.
They were visible.
Clippity clop. Clippity clop. The hooves of their horses got louder. I stood on the other side of the road.
The man's beard hung close to his belt. He wore a broad rimmed hat. A bonnet covered his wife's head. Their faces were etched with character. No doubt about it, this photo would look better as a tighter composition. Forget the pumpkins.
Should I take the photo? Sure, the couple was recognizable, but I wouldn't zoom in on their faces. The horses would be included too.
A lens rested in my hands. Not any old lens. The sucker was big--a photographic howitzer. It gets noticed.
Clippity clop. Clippity clop. They eyed me. I watched them.
Clippity clop. Crunch time.
I didn't raise the camera.
The man waved. I returned the gesture. We went our separate ways.
Was the old timer conveying more than a greeting? Was he thanking me for not taking the photo?
By posting this entry, am I publicly congratulating myself for my decision? If so, am I acting contrary to the spirit of Gelassenheit?
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