A Love Letter to Amateur Photography and the Sky

They look up at the sky and they tear up. They watch the sun as it sets and they feel nothing, or they feel everything. They hear thunder with eyes wide in wonder, hoping no one was hurt in the burst of lightning that must’ve preceded it. It starts to drizzle when they’re out in public and they lift up their hands to double-check with varying levels of emotion on their faces: a picture of perfect synchrony between complete strangers. They stare at the white dots up there, never fully certain if they're actually stars or just satellites, maybe a really far away plane; they squint and they feel breathless. Sometimes in a good way; sometimes in a way that feels like they're choking.

They pull out their phone; their new Polaroid camera; an old antique camera they found in their attic; they point up above and they shoot. They take a photo; a picture. They move around a bit to get the angle right. They look through their gallery and they sigh. Perhaps they'll share it. Perhaps they'll edit it. Perhaps they won’t, and they'll instead just stare at it for a long time. Perhaps they'll print it, and they'll smile whenever they see it.

Because it's easier to perceive something so huge through a smaller snippet. Because looking at a photograph gives them the illusion that they're in control. Because it makes them feel less tiny and helpless under the vast, vast expanse of the sky when it's in a form they can carry in their hands. And that's okay because they truly are powerless underneath it all. The sun rises and sets; the clouds thicken and cry; the stars and the moon shimmer on some days; dimming and disappearing on others. They can do nothing to alter that, so they photograph it.

But if photography is a way to preserve things, what need do they have to photograph the sky? It’s always there. It’ll always be there. There is no real need to preserve it then. Except there mustn’t always be a ‘need’ for them to do things. They do it because the moon is pretty. Because the clouds are fluffy. Because the stars are many and the rain makes them feel less alone. Because the sky is big in a never-ending type of way, and that can be terrifying, but it can also be such a comfort. Because photos of the sky are safe and beautiful, and that's enough.