My camera, part 2

I didn’t miss my camera.

I was too busy figuring out life in Calgary, life working for a major metro newspaper.

Three years after moving to YYC, my life went into a tailspin. Newspapers in Canada started contracting. People lost their jobs.

I was one of them.

My life as a storyteller, as a journalist, as a sports writer was taken away from me.

At the time, it was the worst moment of my life. I liken it to the worst breakup I’ve ever been through. (The moment has since been eclipsed by the day I had to put down my dog, my best friend, my Shep.)

It took a long time to get over. Eh … I may not even be over it to this day.

A few months later, I landed in marketing and communications.

I gave myself a promotion eight months later by jumping into marketing and communications for a post-secondary education institution.

Sweet baby jeebus, who knew a writer could make more than just above minimum wage?

Celebrate good times, come on …

But wait … first, I became friends with a gal who liked to hike, liked to explore the mountains. She took me and Shep hiking in Bragg Creek, camping in Banff and Jasper national parks.

I dare you to go to the Rocky Mountains and not want to take a picture.

I was surrounded by beauty.

Mountains. Lakes. Fog. Trees. Clouds. Rivers. Creeks.


No. You cannot go to the Rocky Mountains and not take a picture.

I borrowed a point-and-shoot for one trip. A picture of Shep backdropped by the Sawtooth Range at the Ink Pots remains one of my all-time favorites.

It felt natural. It felt like a part of me had been missing.

That Christmas, I bought myself a present. A Nikon D40 with a kit 18-55mm lens. I added the kit 75-200mm a few months later.

It was a start.

It was a return back to where I started, telling stories not just with words but with pictures, too. Somehow, like so many people before seem to have just known, the two go hand in hand.

A picture can be worth a thousand words.

But a picture without the words, much of the story can remain untold.

That’s why you’ll never see a picture in a newspaper without a cutline.

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