I believe that in nearly every profession, there's an ultra rare scenario where everything comes together perfectly.
In sports where it's most commonly known, we call it "the zone." Michael Jordan would talk about the times he was in it. The tiny basketball hoop seemed to transform into a massive hula-hoop, and it was difficult to miss a jumpshot, regardless of distance.
A salesperson might talk about a day where everyone buys, and it could be for whatever reason.
A writer might knock out half his new novel in a weekend.
A musician might claim that the lyrics sort of spilled out, and her #1 hit is made in a matter of minutes.
A photographer's zone is a little different because luck is mixed in with the practice and preparation. For me, this "zone" happens once, maybe twice a year. It is when a photograph develops into something beyond what I could imagine.
On a whim, I dropped off my family at the house as sunset was nearing and thought I'd give it a whirl. I had absolutely no idea where to go (I'm guilty of this plenty, quite frankly), and off I went, racing the sun. I made my way down a few familar roads but then turned off to one I had never been before. The sun was an immense orb in the sky, with the perfect amount of atmosphere blocking its brightness. This happens a few dozen times a year.
I now had to find my scene. A farmhouse came into view and I was running out of time. The sun set itself perfectly between the trees and the barn. Mini hay blocks laid in the foreground, the windmill made an interesting profile, and a mysterious single light appeared from within the barn. The barn was turned perfectly, revealing both its front and sides to add depth. Even the sky was painted with unordinary marks, thanks to the fading and well-placed contrails of passing planes.
I thought, "can this scene get even more perfect?" My question was answered quickly, because it did.
The owner came out the door, and suddenly his horse appeared behind him. Then right on que, he began to run his horse around, throwing up thick dust and dirt which enhanced the glow of the setting sun, creating a stronger aura of the man and his horse.
Finally, the owner and his horse came to halt and posed perfectly in front of the sun as the dust settled. It's a moment that even if planned, would be quite challenging to replicate because of the light conditions and timing.
Every time I go out and shoot, I know that I'll be lucky if I can capture what I've envisioned. What keeps me inspired is knowing that there's a CHANCE that what I capture will be so perfect that I could not have even conceived it.
This was one of those times. Like finding a unicorn. Or a horse.
