A Sweet Eye View

Looking to the left, my dusty walker speed shoes that covered miles with determination suddenly halted.  Hmm.  Another tree-lined side street to add to today’s walking distance.

 Wiping sweat dripping from my eyebrow, a welcome breeze tickled my nose.  I smiled big.

Yes, I remembered this place.  A tucked-away gem of cottage-type homes embracing foliage that swayed this way and that in brilliant tones of rose, white and shiny emerald.

Joining the dance were florals of many kinds. Familiar were brilliant tulips, crocuses, daffodils and baby violets.  Even the lowly dandelion, a weed I usually cast aside, held an awesome, golden brilliance.

Ah, the wonder of nature at its best.

My hand sank into my waist pack and fingered around the odd whatnots of necessities. Ugh. Not there …   my most treasured walking assistant.  It had been just so amazing. A compact, nestle-in-your-palm, ready and able to respond to the push of a finger. A reliable, amazingly clear, simple-to-use, pocket camera.  I endearingly named it Pixie.  

Then, I realized it was gone. This mini silver camera had been my friend only for a special time and place.  

And oh, how I miss it.

You see, some time ago, I was able to find the means to travel to Italy; a place where those before me had lived and passed down their traditions right down the simmering pot of homemade tomato sauce stocked with meatballs.  So off I went.  

Everything was shoved in a huge travelling suitcase… except I wanted to “document” everything in technicolor.  I needed … you guessed it, a sturdy camera. It had to be small, easy to use, and very inexpensive.  And, I needed it now!

My husband was way ahead of me.  With acquired credit card points, he had found the perfect camera, with a mini- case and several cartridges.  Italy here I come! 

Having no time to test the camera, I shoved it in my suitcase and hoped for the best. Once in Italy, when awed by a scenic place, my travel companions set up tripods, large lenses and other fancy camera gadgets. But I would yank Pixie from my pocket and just tap the button. 

My travel companions warned me that I was in for great disappointment. Ah, dismal violin strains played in my head. But oh well, I just had to take that chance. 

Our exciting two weeks of Italian wanderings quickly came to a grand finale with the tossing of coins into the Trevi Fountain.  Then, through the mountains we bused to the airport to fly into the blue skies back to our home sweet home.

 I sat reflecting on the many moments we embraced … wondering if some photos would provide a memory of them.  My eyelids grew heavy recalling some of the moments, realizing I would be perfectly satisfied even if my camera didn’t yield any.

But I still wanted to try. Once I was home, I quickly unpacked my suitcase and the film cartridges fell onto the floor.  I scooped them up and hurried to the photo shop before they closed.

A few weeks went by.  I had settled at home, and memories of Italy faded.  Until … an invitation landed on my doorstep inviting me to a party for all of us travelers.  We were asked to bring our photos.  When, oops! I had forgotten all about them… to the photo shop I flew. Then I drove home like a racecar driver.

Opening the pack, I hurriedly threw all the developed pictures on the dining room table.  Then I took a step back.  Should I dare look closely… they could be cloudy, unfocused, and lacking desired technicolor?  Or maybe the film was off, and there were no pictures at all?

 Sweat was now dripping down my neck into my summer shirt. Picking up the photos, I carefully spread them across the table like a deck of cards.  Dare I look?  With a hand over my eyes, I squinted between my fingers.

What!

Just then the doorbell rang.  My husband answered the door.  “Hey, it’s some of your Italy friends. They couldn’t wait for the gathering to share their photos with you. Too bad yours are not ready.”

“Oh, but they are,” I yelled.

 In moments, my friends stood beside the table, packages of photos in hand, their mouths opened wide.

“What?”

Hardly believable, my photos were astonishingly clear.  They rendered some lovely moments of our trip.  Italy in full bloom before us in my pics.  Professional-like and polished. Some were the usual size and others were foot-long panoramas. I was speechless. And so was everyone else.

From then on, that mini-gem of a camera went with me everywhere, creating great views of the world.  A total eye of my world.  It always delivered better than imagined, expansive photographs of every kind and everything.  A perfect capturing of life.

Until one day a pack of developed photos were returned as total blanks.  What?  Then I decided to buy more film cartridges… but I could not find any anywhere.  And then there was the final upset, one that left me utterly speechless.

The camera ceased to be … it had been totally removed from the shelves.

My remarkable, little silver camera was obsolete.

What now?  Well, now I use the cell phone.  It’s quick and in moments a photo is ready.  No need for development.  Then, once uploaded, it can be shared with everyone.

Yes, so quick and so easy.  But it lacks the depth, quality and incredible technicolor of my trusty Pixie.  Yes, it always delivered amazing quality and captured keen world vision with a simple push of a button.

And it sat snug perfectly in the palm of my hand.  

…and that is how I live it.