Just a quick post.
Going back nearly 4 years, I bought the Panasonic Lumix LX3 camera. At the time, I remembering wanting to have a “point and shoot” compact camera that was also high specced. I also wanted to be able to use it a bit more creatively now and again but didnt want the hassle of a large DSLR. I remember the sleekness of it when it first arrived. I remember the array of buttons and clever functions on it (which I admit I have still only used about 20% of). I remembered how good the photographs I took with it were. It enhanced my very average photographic skills to produce some quite passable, nay pleasing, results.
Zoom forward (sorry) to today and I still have this camera. It hasnt been to Marakesh, or the Andes or Kilimanjaro. It has been, however, on nearly every walk and camping trip for the past 4 years though. It has taken thousands of photographs and given me some stunning results on times (more than I deserve relative to effort if I am honest). Its been dropped, scratched, dented, lost the flash cover and in fact has to be coaxed into releasing the flash from the main body. Its been thrown in bags and had rough handling. If it was a child I would have been hauled in by the camera equivalent of Social Services by now.
So why the update?
Well, last week I took it out for a trip and then when I got to my destination I completely failed to find it. In the space of the past 3 days I have cleared my car out from top to bottom, searched the house in every nook and cranny and asked the police if anyone had handed in a battered silver camera. All to no avail. I was distraught. It wasnt worth alot (now) and insurance is a wonderful thing. But, it just felt like I had lost something very personal and valuable to me and couldnt really be replaced.
Imagine my surprise then when I went to put the bins out for collection, I found it still in its little cuben fiber pouch (made by Sean at Oookworks) on the driveway. I must have somehow gotten it caught up in a bag when I put the rubbish out that day of the trip. The inside of the pouch was a little damp, the outer shell of the camera covered in beads of moisture. I held my breath. I took the lens cap off and pushed the on button.
It was working perfectly. I had abused my little silver friend and didnt deserve to be greeted like a small dog does to its owner upon returning from a long trip. My LX3 had forgiven me.
….”why do birds suddenly appear….everytime you are near….”