Stories

A few weeks back, I stumbled upon a conversation the author Anne Lamott had with David Perell. The thought provoking insights she peppered the conversation with, were delightful.

One line stayed with me. Anne talked about a prompt she uses in her workshops – there was a tree.

“There was a tree…. tell me about that tree.

Is it a tree from your childhood, is it the cherry tree outside your window…is it the tree you fell out of when you were in second grade…is it a tree where you carved someone’s initials…”.

“…You could write for days on the trees in your life.”

We were returning from a not-so-productive morning in the Serengeti when we spied a few vehicles huddled together. In any safari, a group of vehicles provokes curiosity, but in the endless spread that makes this land, where you don’t meet as many vehicles as elsewhere, it raises much more than curiosity. It demands investigation.

As we got nearer, we could see three cheetahs under a tree.

Which might or might not be interesting.

If the cheetahs are hungry they’ll be on the lookout for a meal, if they are full, they might be rather boring as subjects. In this case, their bulging stomachs gave a clear hunt on which way our hopes should lean.

In the wild, though, it is always wise to wait for a little while and see what unfolds. You never really know what can happen.

Sure enough, soon after we reached, one of them got up and climbed the tree. That’s unusual since, cheetahs normally don’t climb trees. We greedily reached out for our cameras.

As we clicked madly, the second one climbed up.

The third followed almost immediately.

Three cheetahs on a single tree! Now, that’s a rare sight.

To my eternal shame, it was only after countless shots of the cheetahs that I started noticing the tree.

It was an old tree, a decrepit acacia tree. Its typically flat crown looked ragged and sparse, its best leafy days behind it. A branch had broken off, the limb hung despondently. Its trunk was deep and gnarly; its branches twisted and wrinkled. If I closed my eyes, I could see a heavy browed, wildly moustachioed grandfather peering at me with keen eyes over his crooked nose. Hunched shoulders and a kindly smile completed my picture.

The stories I could hear on its lap!

It stood largely leafless, its thick, furrowed branches twisting this way and that. If I bent down and tightly framed the tree against the bleached midday sky, the sparse branches looked like an aerial shot of the branches of a dry river running on parched lands.

The changes it would have witnessed on its banks!

The tree captivated me. It felt dramatic and I wanted to capture the drama.

I zoomed in more than I usually like to. My compositions were focused on the tree. I used the spreading branches as a diagonal in one frame. I zeroed in on the Y shaped split. I sought to capture the weathered feel of the trunk. The cheetah merely became a subject that complemented the tree and not the focus itself. Maybe the cheetahs felt slighted at my change of focus because they became truly perfect subjects. They posed one way and then the other, offering me a platter of opportunities that I couldn’t have even dreamt of.

We circled the tree searching for different angles to shoot the cheetahs…or the tree.

The first cheetah stands in a stately pose for the camera, his svelte body slightly marred by that full belly !

Three cheetahs, three poses…what an unbelievable stroke of luck !

Look at the branches, especially that broken off one…they have such character.

This view seemed to me like an aerial shot of a river with its different branches running off in different directions.

(The cheetah is desperately trying to catch my attention here by holding a seriously contemplative pose.)

There is something distant, remote and alone about this image that I love

Doesn’t that tree trunk look impressive ? And that broken off branch…ufff…

…the cheetah is for decorative value, is it ? 

Different perspectives and different composition opportunities emerged as we circled around

and the cheetahs obligingly posed on each occasion

This is one of my favourites from the entire lot 

Two days later, we came across these three cheetahs again under a different tree.

Once again, they climbed the tree.

The tree this time, was a less spectacular one. A younger one, more slender and blessed with a leafy top. I changed my approach.

This tree was gentle and calm. It was offering shade and protection in the vastness. I wanted my images to show that. I zoomed out a lot more. I overexposed opting for less contrast. High contrast is drama, low contrast is calming.

An unusual procession…

It was strange how these three happily climb trees! Twice in two days, we certainly ain’t complaining tho’

Can I get off stylishly ?

They mostly used to fall of in an unglamorous fashion

There were a few occasions that I zoomed in,

but in my post processing I treated it lightly, to look like a pencil sketch

Back home, after I had listened to Anne Lamott, I thought about trees.

I smiled at the memory of the mango tree in the backyard of my childhood home where I used to spend hours watching squirrels play tag with each other. I looked out of my window at the magnificently curving tree in front of my current home which serves as a perch for the many birds that sit on it and sing gaily. I remembered that ghostly looking leafless tree we chanced upon one stormy night at Mara when we framed a crowned crane sitting on it against the full moon.

I reflected that while trees have always arrested my attention, I have also ignored them. As we drive around especially while on a safari, I often notice how wonderful a particular tree looked. I observe how artistic the gently curving branches seemed or how much like a long-nailed claws of a witch, a wickedly crooked tree looked.

And, I, or my friends, will comment that a leopard on it would have been wonderful.

That now felt cruel to the tree. After all, it was the tree that had caught my eye.

Maybe, it’s time I start looking at trees differently. Not just as an interesting object but as the main character in the frame.

‘There was a tree’ seems like a good prompt for photography too.

Cheers !

Ashok