Camera in Hand

Feeling stronger than usual, I decided to take the neighborhood trail, but be extremely diligent about pursuing a route that was peaceful. That's not what ended up happening, but there was a feeling of extreme empowerment and satisfaction this time. The reason? I brought my iPhone, complete with camera and video recording capabilities.

I have been practicing walking with the camera phone outside of the neighborhood trail. In my practice, I've learned that the camera app is slow to launch, and like Paul's cool photography of the Honu, it's better to record the action with video instead of going for still shots when there is a lot of movement going on. The best way to walk is with the device in my hand, as if reviewing something that's just been received, but keeping the video camera at the ready is all that is necessary for some decent live action shots.

In my quest for a peaceful, contemplative walk, I chose to take a path to the upper park that is actually situated in the city of San Ramon. The walk started off calm enough. I was enjoying the cool, crisp air and the view of Mount Diablo as Roxie and I spotted a coyote scurrying away from us. Wanting to get a shot of the coyote, I whipped out the iPhone, but the coyote was too sly and it hid someplace inside the high brush that is likely its home. Off in the distance I saw a man coming toward us, his dog off leash. The dog looked like an Akita-Husky mix, scary looking in any case, but this was my chance at using the camera. I kept going, instead of using my usual tactic which is to turn around and hoof it quickly in the opposite direction.

I can't say that I was practicing aloha when that dog and its owner passed by us. In fact, I lost my temper using an undignified expletive, and I am not proud of that. Under my breath, I stated that he should leash his dog, and he took issue with it. Like so many oblivious dog owners, he had not read the sign that has been posted at the gate of the trail for as long as I have been walking there. I rebuffed his remark by stating something about how it's posted at the trail head. He maintained that walking the dog off leash was allowed on this trail, as he raised his hands at me in disgust. In my panic I stopped recording the episode, so taken aback was I in his heartlessness. He yelled something about how I don't make the laws, he called me a lunatic, and stomped off.

Ironically the dog really wasn't as bad as the other dogs I've encountered in my recent past, but its owner was as brutal as that Pit Bull that killed Hardy. What is unfortunate? This wouldn't have phased me if it had occurred sometime before June 14, 2010. I would have let Hardy off leash and play with the dog that really seemed quite nice. In fact, during this encounter, both of the dogs were silent and distinguished. I came away feeling disturbed, proud of the dogs, disappointed in the humans, yet feeling empowered because of the use of my camera.