Please, Set Your iPhones Down

I'm a photographer, and I’m begging you to set the camera down. Leave it in the car, leave it at home, or just set it down.

I recently visited one of the most iconic spots in all of America: Horseshoe Bend. When we pulled up, the parking lot was filled with cars, and people running up and down the trail to Horseshoe bend. I don’t think I saw a single person without a camera or cell phone in tow. When we got to the edge, it was filled with people…but not just people, the noise of shutters, the shouts of people to “move so I can take this shot” and a host of other unambiguous signals to “move…or else”. It was sad to me, honestly. Pictures make you think that Horseshoe Bend at sunset should be a quiet, calm place, where everyone takes a moment to breath….and watch the sun slowly bend its last rays over the horizon into sleep.

So here’s what I’m asking: take one shot and set it down. Take the shot that you need to remember you were there, then set it down and take in the beauty. Do you really want to spend that hour looking through a lens? Do you really want to spend that hour asking people to move, being frustrated at everyone else trying to take the same shot? What’s the point? Is it worth a couple Instagram likes for you to no enjoy and celebrate beauty? My all-time favorite photographer, Chris Burkard, always says that he liked mirrorless cameras because he could spend less time taking a photo, and more time enjoying the moment. I agree with that wholehearted: it’s one of the reasons I own a mirrorless camera and encourage everyone to buy one. The less time I spend fiddling with settings, trying to get the best shot, the more time I can spend basking in the beauty of the moment. We were made to enjoy and celebrate beauty. When we spend all of our time trying capturing a moment instead of enjoying it, we lose a part of what makes us human.

Back to my story…it was total chaos at Horseshoe Bend, that is, until the sun had set completely. Once the sun went down…everyone left, as if there was nothing left to see. They took a photo of the sunset, their work was done, it’s time to head back to the hotel. But what they missed was something far more beautiful than the crowds, far more beautiful than the shutter clicks, far more beautiful than the rush and panic of photographers hauling ass to get their cameras to a view. The sun set, the moon peaked from behind the clouds, and the stars lit up the night sky. Best of all: it was quiet. Only a few stayed out into the dark to watch the stars. I lay in the sand and counted the shootings stars as they streaked over the vast canyon below. Kayakers with their flashlights and campfires down in the Colorado River were making camp and singing songs. It was beautiful. What I realized laying down in the sand that night is that there is a difference between bringing ourselves to a place, and bringing our cameras to a place. The people rushing down the trail to Horseshoe Bend weren’t worried they would miss the sunset…they were worried their camera would. So maybe we should set the cameras down. Maybe, just maybe, we should say “no” to the camera, and yes to our heart’s desire to enjoy and celebrate beauty. I'm not saying I'm perfect, I struggle to resist the urge too and fail miserably. But maybe if we all tried a little harder to listen to our hearts and not our cameras and Instagram notifications, maybe we could begin to understand what it is that makes us human. Try it. Set it down.