destinylaharris

Category: Learning to look closer

  • Learning to Look Closer #6

    see this thing all the time.

    It’s a sensory board we have at work, covered in hundreds of tiny sequins. The kids can run their hands across them, flip them back and forth, change the colors, make patterns, or sometimes just enjoy the feeling of them moving beneath their fingers.

    Normally, I see it from above.

    A bunch of colorful sequins.

    Then I put my camera almost level with it.

    And suddenly, it looked enormous.

    Individual sequins became little overlapping discs of color. The ones closest to my camera stayed sharp while everything behind them melted into tiny circles of light.

    It almost looked like a landscape.

    Nothing about the sensory board had changed.

    I had.

    Or, more specifically, my perspective had.

    That’s something I love about photography.

    It gives me an excuse to look at ordinary things from angles I probably never would otherwise.

    Sometimes looking closer really does mean getting closer.

    Other times, it means getting lower.

    Turning something around.

    Looking underneath it.

    Standing somewhere you normally wouldn’t.

    Because sometimes there isn’t anything new waiting to be discovered.

    Sometimes you’ve already seen it a hundred times.

    You just haven’t seen it like this yet.

    — Destiny

    P.S. Pick something ordinary around you today and look at it from an angle you normally wouldn’t. You might be surprised by what it turns into.

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  • Learning to Look Closer #5

    Sometimes looking closer means seeing something beautiful.

    Sometimes it means looking into your aquarium and wondering what exactly your snail thinks she’s doing.

    Because apparently the glass wasn’t interesting enough.

    The plants weren’t interesting enough.

    No.

    She needed to climb.

    All the way to the top.

    And then hang there like this was a completely normal decision.

    So, naturally, I grabbed my camera.

    I’ve watched snails move around an aquarium plenty of times, but there was something different about seeing her from this angle.

    Usually, we see the shell first.

    The spiral.

    The part that makes us immediately recognize a snail as a snail.

    But from underneath, she looked completely different.

    Her shell became this enormous shield above her body. Her tiny head peeked over the edge. One little antenna stretched outward while the other disappeared somewhere behind her.

    And somehow, an animal we usually think of as slowly crawling along the bottom had managed to get herself all the way up there.

    I think that’s what I like about taking pictures of little things.

    You start noticing how strange everything actually is.

    Snails climb.

    Moths have fuzzy heads.

    Insects have colors and patterns we can’t see until we’re inches away.

    Things that seem ordinary from a distance become almost alien when you get close enough.

    And this particular little alien apparently wanted the penthouse view.

    I have no idea what she was looking for up there.

    Maybe nothing.

    Maybe she simply discovered she could climb it and decided to keep going.

    Either way, I’m glad I stopped long enough to notice.

    Because sometimes looking closer doesn’t reveal some profound lesson about life.

    Sometimes it just reveals a snail doing something weird.

    And honestly?

    I think those moments deserve to be noticed, too.

    — Destiny

    P.S. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever caught one of your pets doing?

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  • Learning to Look Closer #4

    Most people probably wouldn’t have stopped for her.

    She was just a little brown moth outside near the cat food.

    And with cats around, that probably wasn’t the safest place for her to be.

    So I picked her up.

    I expected her to fight me.

    To flutter her wings, scramble away, or do whatever tiny moths do when a giant human suddenly decides to scoop them up.

    She didn’t.

    She just let me.

    No fighting.

    No struggling.

    She sat completely still on the tip of my finger while I carried her somewhere safer.

    And maybe I’m giving a tiny moth far too much credit, but in that moment, it felt a little like trust.

    So, naturally, I stopped to look closer.

    Up close, she wasn’t just a little brown moth anymore.

    Her head was covered in soft, golden-brown fuzz. Her wings looked almost like velvet, folded neatly against her back. Her antennae were impossibly thin, and those tiny black legs held onto my finger while I moved her away from danger.

    She was beautiful.

    Not in the bright, obvious way butterflies tend to be.

    Moths are quieter about it.

    Butterflies get flowers and gardens and people stopping to take pictures.

    Moths get porch lights and people trying to shoo them out of the house.

    But look closer.

    There’s something beautiful about them, too.

    Maybe that’s one of my favorite things about taking pictures.

    It gives me an excuse to stop long enough to notice things I might otherwise walk right past.

    The fuzzy head.

    The tiny feet.

    The way plain brown wings turn almost golden when the light hits them.

    And sometimes, a tiny creature trusting you enough to let you carry her somewhere safe.

    She was only on my finger for a little while.

    But it was long enough for me to notice her.

    Sometimes that’s all it takes.

    — Destiny

    P.S. What’s something small you almost overlooked lately?

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  • Learning to Look Closer #3

    Some people will look at this photo and see a little boy playing with a hat that’s much too big for him.

    I see something else.

    For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this silly habit of balancing random things on my head and dramatically “sneezing” them off just to make him laugh.

    The other day, he crawled up beside me, grabbed my hat, pulled it over his face, and started trying to “sneeze” it off himself.

    Nobody taught him to do that.

    He was watching.

    It’s funny how children are paying attention long before we realize they are. They notice our words, our habits, our routines, and even the little things we do without thinking.

    Sometimes, they love us by becoming a little bit like us.

    That realization stopped me in my tracks.

    This picture isn’t just of my nephew wearing a hat that’s too big for him.

    It’s a reminder that someone I love is learning from me every single day.

    And if I’m being honest…

    That melts my whole heart.

    I wouldn’t picture my life being any better without him.

    Until next time,

    -Destiny

    P.S.-What’s something you’ve caught a child doing that made you stop and think, “Yep… they definitely got that from me.” 😂

  • Learning to Look Closer #2: Just Outside the Window

    My nephew was standing at the window this morning when a tiny robber fly flew up to the glass.

    For a minute, it almost seemed like they were entertaining each other.

    It would fly away, then come back again, hovering just long enough to catch his attention. Every time it returned, he lit up a little more.

    Then it landed.

    I grabbed my phone, quietly walked over, and snapped a single picture through the window.

    One click.

    That was all I got.

    As soon as the photo was taken, it lifted off and disappeared.

    The whole moment probably lasted less than a minute.

    Most people would’ve seen a bug on a window.

    I saw a tiny reminder that wonder doesn’t always announce itself.

    Sometimes it visits for thirty seconds, waits patiently while you’re paying attention, and leaves before you realize you’ve just been given something worth remembering.

    Maybe that’s why I love photography.

    Not because it lets me capture beautiful things.

    Because it reminds me to notice them while they’re still here.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. Have you ever had an ordinary moment that stayed with you far longer than you expected?