A Perfectly Missed Frame¶
Saturday morning. I’m driving my car, leaving the gas station. In my typical Dutch suburb, where all the trees are the same height, where everything is perfectly planned before it’s built. No mysteries. No coincidences.
Approaching the stop sign, I look to the left automatically, without thinking.
On the other side of the street, in front of me, slightly to the left, there is a woman walking a horse on a leash...
For a second, I feel like that guy in the Walter Mitty movie who chooses not to take the picture of the snow leopard (or whatever it was). The only difference is that I have no choice. I have no camera. There is no way. All I can do is imagine how I would frame it, when I would press the shutter, what would be in the background.
As the woman and the horse cross the street, I notice the road sign above them, marking the end of the city. My perfect missed shot.
A second later, in the rearview mirror, I meet the eyes of an impatient driver behind me. Time is up. I move.
I don’t have the picture. I can’t look at it, I can’t share it. But have I really missed it?
from my substack