Dearest Rachel -
I think it was one of the early Torchwood episodes – you'd actually remember it better than I would, since you were the Doctor Who fan of the family – that had a character wear a pair of contact lenses that would essentially livestream what they were seeing to the main group back at headquarters (I think it was in order to catch an alien posing as a human, and the lenses had the means to distinguish heat signatures, or something like that, that indicated the difference between said alien and a normal human). While I'm not particularly keen on wearing contacts to begin with, I have to admit that, on my upcoming trip, I really would like to be able to do something like that, in order to capture what I see for those who aren't able to join me out there.
Of course, while the real-life means to do so are getting to be within reach, both in terms of cost and practicality, they're not quite there yet. You might also remember the trip that MatPat took to Japan, complete with multiple cameras strapped to a helmet he would wear from time to time in order to give subsequent viewers something of a VR effect. Honestly, it rather made him the subject of gawking as much as the scenes he was looking at – although I won't deny that, in comparison to some of the "explorer" videos I will occasionally watch these days, there's something to be said for VR's ability to turn the focus on something that catches my eye as opposed to that of the person filming. It's still ridiculous-looking and unwieldy, though, and I can only pack so much, anyway (not that I've packed anything at this point).
No matter how you slice it, there is so much that the camera is going to miss. I was reminded of this a little bit more yesterday afternoon, when Lars and I finally managed to get out this week for our customary walk. The temperatures are finally returning to which passes for normal at this time of year, the sun was out for much of the time, and the wind – such as there was – was broken by the tree growth.
Normally, I don't take pictures while we're out and about; I guess that, after making it such a habit between the two of us, it doesn't seem like all that big of a deal. Considering how I talk about the mundane versus the exotic from time to time, I really should know better than that; and eventually, every sight I take in will seem like a distant country, if only in terms of time and ability. But no matter; for now, the path seems common and ordinary. Except…
…there was this one tree in the middle of a large stand of them that had all the snow stuck to it, while almost all of its brothers were completely bare of snow. It made for something of an interesting sight.
Which you might reasonably argue that the camera did a perfectly adequate job of capturing (with the possible intrusion of the streak of sunlight coming from the south). And that's quite true, as this wasn't the photograph that provoked this letter; it was just the thing that had the both of us get our cameras out to capture any other unusual images that the weather might produce along the way.
And we didn't go that much further before we found a few more. Near the end of our walk, there was a spray of dead weeds and twigs sticking up amid the snow. Moisture had gathered at the tips of their branches, and crystallized into round shapes. In the lenses of our respective sunglasses, these ice formations glistened as if they were made of silver, with their curves making them look like pearls. They hung from these stubby outgrowths of dead foliage as if they were ornaments still attached to the remnants of a fallen and discarded Christmas tree.
We both knew we had to get pictures of these strange, shiny, icy decorations. But when we tried, this is what we got:
Do you see anything in this picture? I certainly don't; certainly, nothing remarkable.
I got a little better results when I tried to zoom in on them…
…and you might be able to see a little something there, but honestly, you'd have to peer really closely at the pictures in order to spot anything. And yet, as we were looking at these formations, the glint of the ice, like frozen water droplets, seemed so obvious as to merit immortalization. But for whatever reason, the camera didn't see much of it at all, and we found ourselves wondering why we could see what the camera couldn't. I speculated that our sunglasses made the contrast between the shining ice crystals and the rest of the landscape that much more obvious (which wasn't a feature on our cameras, as far as I know), but that's all it was – mere speculation.
So I wonder if, on my upcoming travels (which even Dad is beginning to talk with me about as if he were looking forward to hearing from me about it – so I know that a.) he's getting that much better, and b.) he's okay with me leaving on the trip), I'll be able to do justice to relating the things I see to you and all the others that plan to read over my shoulder.
Or is it going to be just ice, as opposed to justice?
In any event, honey, please remember to keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I'm going to need it.
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