Costs Me Nothing

A photo from my phone.

Yesterday, despite the rain, I grabbed my camera and headed to the Glebe to catch some urban shots. Some buildings, some graffiti, some candid shots. Because it was raining, I wanted to search for and take advantage of puddles.

I don't take advantage of people, but puddles are fair game.

While crossing the street at a controlled intersection (i.e., one with a crosswalk and traffic lights), I noticed a visually impaired man standing at the edge of the road, in front of the crosswalk, with a look on his face as though he was unsure about whether to step out onto the street.

Meanwhile, people shuffled by him without noticing anything but where they wanted to go.

As I approached him, I asked him if he was planning to cross the street. He said that he was but noted that there was no audible cues at this intersection.

"I suppose I've missed this light," he said.

"Well, there are four seconds left so I would say so," was my reply. "Would you like help getting across the next time the light changes?"

"If you don't mind."

I had nowhere to be. I had my camera and no specific destination. I was only going to walk between Fifth Avenue and the Queensway, on whatever side of the street got my attention.

We chatted about the weather, how it wasn't any fun standing in the rain. He noted that at least it was warm outside, seeing the silver lining in an otherwise gloomy day.

When the light was just about to change, I gave the fellow a heads up. With the walking sign lit up, I looked both ways and said, "Here we go."

Without touching him, I guided him around any problematic puddles and notified him when we were about to reach the curb on the opposite side of the street (the side from which I had started). And as soon as he was safely on the sidewalk, I bid him a good day and he thanked me for my assistance.

"Happy to help." And indeed, as I ran back across the street, with only two seconds to spare before the light changed once again, I did feel happy about making a small difference in a stranger's life.

After all, it cost me nothing.

I roamed northward, placing my camera along the length of store windows, capturing the reflection of the traffic on Bank Street. I dipped into alleys to capture some of the images that had been painted on brick walls. I would crouch low, out of the way of other pedestrians, and almost lay my D-SLR in puddles to get more reflections.

I'll share pictures throughout the week.

At one point, as I was low to the ground, I heard a woman's voice say, "Oh, photos!" As I stood up and saw the person who noticed me, I saw a young woman with her boyfriend. "Can you take a picture of us?" she asked.

I saw that she had her smartphone in hand and I extended my own hand, reaching for her phone.

"No, with your camera," she clarified.

I paused while considering her request. I've taken pictures of strangers before so the idea wasn't foreign to me. And when I first got out of my car, with camera in hand, I had considered starting up the new strangers project that I embarked upon last summer, but I had figured that most people wouldn't want to stop in the rain.

"Uh, sure," I said. There was a graffiti-covered building where we were standing so I asked if they wanted to move over and stand in front of it. Unprepared to photograph people, I simply asked them to stand together and I took only one shot.

I'll share it on Friday.

The woman asked if I was on Instagram and I gave her my user name. I also told her she could find me on Threads and gave her the name of my blog. I got her name and her boyfriend's name, wished them a great day, and we parted ways.

Two strangers, asking me to take their photograph. It cost me nothing. Sure, I'll do a nice job of the photo in post processing but I was going to do that with most of the photos I had captured, anyway.

(I've since edited the photo and it took no more time than helping the visually impaired man across the street.)

Once again, the interaction with these strangers put a smile on my face.

I could have crossed the street and continued on my way. After all, the man got to where he was, that day, without assistance. Surely, he would have found his own way across the intersection.

I could have said no to the couple when they asked me to take their picture. After all, even though I'm not a photographer by profession, I do make a bit of money, from time to time, for taking portraits and for selling some of my 'artsy' photos.

I could have insisted that I take the picture with the woman's camera: after all, we made no agreement that I'd ever send her a copy of the photo. At least by using her smartphone, she'd be walking away with an image.

And I could have simply been polite, agreed to take the photo with my camera, and then deleted it when I got home.

But you know what? That wouldn't have given me joy.

When I finished capturing all of the images of the day, I returned to my car in a very good mood. And not just because I felt I had taken some good pictures on that wet afternoon. I felt good because I had interacted with people.

I had helped someone. I had made a couple happy. And it had cost me nothing but a little bit of time, of which I had plenty and didn't miss the expenditure.

The return on investing in the lives of others pays incredible dividends.

Happy Monday!