Click. Click. Click. I would always take the same picture in twenty different angles and still be displeased. And before I could get a good one, the biker would already be down the street or the robin would fly away to its new destination. Having my own camera in my after school photography class meant that I had to be careful about how many pictures I should take, but with my fiddling with the camera it always ended up being more than my eighth grade photography group’s combined. Am I even doing the rule of thirds correctly? Should I squat? Should I take it from far away? What is the perfect angle? Is there even such a thing? I didn’t see the concept of being creative. Everything buzzing in my head was perfection, perfection, perfection. And when it came to food photography, all it ended up being is me eating the warm melted cookie that I purchased just for the photo. One time I went to purchase another cookie when I told myself, I have to put the cookie down. No more fiddling around. Just take photos. And again I became such a perfectionist on the position of the camera, how much I zoomed in and out, how I set up the cookie. The chocolate chips were melting on my hands and that’s when I knew my time was running out. I watched my friends and how they were just laughing together even taking selfies. The pictures weren’t so lovely, but their faces were. They weren’t stiff, just tilting their heads back laughing at how funny they looked. It’s supposed to be fun, I reminded myself. It’s supposed to be a learning experience. Pictures aren’t supposed to be perfect. I then let my hands get dirty. I let my fingers place themselves wherever felt comfortable, not correct. I let my body move wherever it felt right, not best. And I turned around and saw a robin feeding worms to its baby birds. A nest! The birds were still and I was still. The birds were not aiming for the worm, just waiting for it to land wherever it may choose. So I just waited, waited for the right picture, the right moment. All at once, all my club members were circling around the bird watching as the birds chirped and sang. They put their cameras down huddling around like the baby birds were, so I did the same. I just watched, waited, warm heartedly. Soon I wandered off and let my camera guide me. I saw things. I didn’t wince when the picture came out blurry when the bikers sped past me or a girl’s frisbee went flying in the air. I saw a fascinating shot in action. People simply living in the moment.