Watching Penguins

I just finished watching March of the Penguins, which I bought Tuesday on DVD. Watching it stirs a longing in me that I don't know what to do with. I watched it with a photographer's eye--the vast landscapes, the rosy glow of sunset coloring walls of ice, the closeup patterns of penguin markings--and it has left me wanting to take my camera and...what? Go to Antarctica? No, not for the winter anyway.

I'm ready for an adventure. I want to escape to someplace photogenic. I want to capture something beautiful, something stunning, and get it on glossy paper, matted and framed. I want to take a road trip--in the car or on a bicycle--and find out-of-the-way places with out-of-the-ordinary people.

But I know the place to start is local. Find the local landmarks and photograph them. Find the local out-of-the-way places and explore them. Find the local out-of-the-ordinary people and write about them. Sell the stories and the photos to the local paper and work up to the big magazines. Do it in my spare time.

Writers write. Photographers take photographs. Travelers travel. I am all of these three.

My blogging takes care of my need to write and to keep up on what's happening in the world. But the rest of it falls by the wayside in favor of working late, trying to catch up on my sleep, and going to the movies after church on Sundays.

I'm not sure where I would go. I'm not sure what I would photograph. I'm not sure what I would write about, but I'd better get off my butt, figure it out, and get started.