Appreciating The Little Things

When I look back all those years ago when I was learning to dive, I’m reminded of the expectations I had of all the amazing things I just knew I would see. My imagination was filled with visions of dolphins, eels, turtles, rays and sharks — because isn’t that why everyone learns to dive? To see the big, majestic animals shown on all the nature shows on TV? Sure, fish are cool, but I’ve probably logged hundreds of dives where I thought to myself, “Good dive, but I didn’t really see anything interesting.”  

After all, I hadn't seen anything big. But had I missed out on seeing something smaller?

It wasn’t until much later when I added a camera to my dive gear that I recognized the number of opportunities I had missed over the years by concentrating on seeing only big animals. When I first began shooting underwater images, I — like many other photographers venturing under the water — began with macro photography. Macro is taking close-up photos of small objects. Not patient by nature, macro photography taught me early on that the desire for good shots wasn’t enough; I’d have to be calm — and wait. Through those first several dives, I began to look at diving with a refreshed perspective. Being forced to slow down made me notice things again. For example, there are approximately 3,000 known species of nudibranchs in the world’s oceans. These tiny nudibranchs — a form of sea slug — bear some of the most explosive colors in the sea. Who wants to swim too fast and miss that show?

Learning this renewed patience made me more aware of the behavior of the ocean’s smaller residents. Did the fish notice me? Did it change positions?  Is it carrying eggs? I observed the colors, shapes, sizes and unique characteristics of each fish. And over time, I learned which ones would let me get close, and which ones weren’t so comfortable in front of the camera. In underwater photography, anticipating the subject’s behavior and capturing it’s personality in an image is like hitting the jackpot.  And when photographing fish, I tell my students to shoot “face to fish,” meaning head on — the same way they would take a picture of any friend — but being slow, steady, and patient is key.

Since slowing down and taking time to see and appreciate the smaller ocean dwellers, I’ve become not only a better underwater photographer, but a better diver.  And while it makes me feel insignificant knowing that I am indeed “a small fish in a big pond,” at the same time, I am so fortunate to be part of their world.