I've been a member of the San Diego Zoo and the Safari Park for the last three years. Between the two parks I make about 10 trips a year. Until last Friday all those trips were made with a Nikon D7000 with a 55-300mm lens. In all those trips nobody else with a camera has ever asked me a photography related question. On Friday I go to the Safari Park to shoot photos of the lion cubs with my new Sigma 150-600 Sport and Nikon D3 mounted on a tripod with gimbal mount (read big rig). Not ten minutes after setting up I have people asking me all kinds of questions from what aperture should I use on this shot (that depends) to how much did you pay for that lens (more than I could afford) to how come my camera isn't working (turned out it was a bad memory card). That's never happened to me before. It was a little strange but flattering at the same time.

About forty years ago I was by myself in the bush when I found a really enchanting clump of mushrooms under a log. The image looked like something from a Disney cartoon. The location was terrible, poor light, wet mud, a tiny subject but I went for it anyway.

I set up a few mirrors in strategic locations to illuminate my subject under the log. I set my macro tripod flat to the ground, mounted my bellows on it, then a long macro lens and of course the camera. I then lay in the mud at that point and moved the assembly back and forth until I had a good shot and clear focus. I adjusted the odd mirror too.

It took me a good half hour to set that shot up. Throughout that time I was so focused that the world ceased to exist. Finally I got to the point where I smiled and took my first picture. More slipping about and adjusting the gear and I took my second picture. Another twenty minutes passed at which point I was done. I sighed, raised myself stiffly from the mud with a degree of relief, stretched, looked about and realized I had drawn an audience. I have no idea where these people came from, I thought I was alone, but there were about fifty people standing there watching me in awe.

Well ... I had to do the obvious thing, I let everyone take a peek through the viewfinder before I took the gear apart. They were happy with that opportunity and also most impressed. And after the show and tell, the questions started to gush from them like water from a bursting dam.

Overall that picture cost me ninety minutes before everything was taken apart, stowed and I was able to move on to another subject.

That was the first time I had ever drawn an audience. And it wasn't the last time. I find if you set up a complicated rig like a macro lens, a bellows and a camera, maybe a few reflectors too, people assume you have to be a professional and that you're doing something exotic. If you're carrying a largish camera with a motor drive and a big lens on it people assume you are a professional too. If you're taking pictures of exotic things they never noticed, that makes you a professional as well. Hell, even just setting up a tripod is sometimes enough to qualify you as a professional.

On the other hand if you're just walking about seeming to take snapshots here an there with an average looking camera, you become invisible and nobody will notice you or care whether you live or die.

I prefer being invisible personally. The first time I got an audience I was surprised and a I felt flattered but even that day it rapidly became a nuisance and it's stayed that way ever since. I do help people take pictures, I have a number of protégés for that but they join me on my terms, the audiences I've attracted aren't like that.

Since then when I am doing something complicated in the field I'm there at six in the morning for the dawn. Only another dedicated photographer is crazy enough to be out at time of day and that kind of person understands what you're trying to do and leaves you alone respecting your space and your silence, letting you be creative without interference.

Alas, there are times when I am out at noon or in the afternoon and at that point I sometimes draw an audience again. I try to stay alone by avoiding eye contact and scowling, but that doesn't always work, some people just feel they have to ask you about whatever is vexing them. So sometimes I don't try to fight it, I just sit down and chat with the people instead. It's often the fastest way to be rid of them and it does make them happy too. When they have their answers they tend to leave you alone. Well almost, sometimes their kids follow me about after the talk but they're usually ok.

It's always fascinated me how people assume your sophistication by the camera you're carrying and the complexity of the shot you're trying to make. I recall a pianist one time who I knew. He played all kinds of stuff and he always pointed out that the passages that seemed simplest of all were often the most difficult to play. So it is with photography too. Some of the pictures I've taken that seem so really simple were actually the most complex I've encountered. And those aren't usually done with all the gear, just a simple prime lens and a reasonably good SLR. Those don't get you labeled as a pro, and they don't get you an audience either. And yet that's exactly the time when people should be paying attention.

What a topsy turvy world we live in Eh?

I've been a member of the San Diego Zoo and the Safari Park for the last three years. Between the two parks I make about 10 trips a year. Until last Friday all those trips were made with a Nikon D7000 with a 55-300mm lens. In all those trips nobody else with a camera has ever asked me a photography related question. On Friday I go to the Safari Park to shoot photos of the lion cubs with my new Sigma 150-600 Sport and Nikon D3 mounted on a tripod with gimbal mount (read big rig). Not ten minutes after setting up I have people asking me all kinds of questions from what aperture should I use on this shot (that depends) to how much did you pay for that lens (more than I could afford) to how come my camera isn't working (turned out it was a bad memory card). That's never happened to me before. It was a little strange but flattering at the same time.