focal, stop

The lens is long and, and after a while, really heavy. Keeping it directed at the stupid bird that will not fly away, A simple project to have a picture of a bird with spread wings is exhausting. The fowl are just not cooperating.

Maybe it is because they know that all they have to do is to wait, then the humans will come into the park and feed them. Perhaps that is the problem.

Perhaps it is just impatience.

A man with an impressive camera around his neck comes over, a long fat lens, grey plastic grips, acrylic windows for the data, and so forth.

He excuses himself and asks what focal length the old huge black lens has.

"600 mm"

The answer was too short, so he asks for the maximum aperture.

Look down at the lens, there it is in large clear writing

"5.6"

Oh.

Tell him that the lens is very old, thirty years now, and that there is no automatic focus there.

He wrinkles his nose.

wishes a nice day

and goes his way.

It is always a drawback, wandering around with such huge equipment. Everyone knows so much and wants to show it.

Go home through the woods. There in the bushes is a man in camouflage gear, another with a tripod.

They are hard to see. The one looks pleading, shushes. So wait.

They were probably some team making cutaway shots for a documentary.

Maybe they had found a squirrel in the tree.

They say thank you.

And that is that.