I have my cameras with me all the time, so much so that I'm sore from carrying them on my shoulders. I woke up this morning to the sound of torrential rain on the roof and my wife getting my son ready for his football game. I shoot as many of his games as I can, but today I made the decision to abort and keep my equipment dry and give my body a day off. Instead, I set my attention on dressing appropriately for two hours in a 48 degree monsoon.
It's been raining for days, so the ground is completely saturated. Cade came home from football practice yesterday in tears he was so cold and wet. At today's game we were armed with rain gear from head to toe and enough hand warmers to cook a turkey. I knew the game would be a soggy one, but I never anticipated the four inch deep puddles on the field. With every tackle, tsunamis of water would hurl up in to the air. My mind began snapping photos, still shots of water dripping off the ends of noses, the agony of cold fingers slamming in to helmets and the never ending spray of water shooting up, showering the pint sized athletes. Unfortunately, my camera lay peacefully tucked in it's warm dry bag in my house. From now on, it will come with me whether I plan on using it or not.
