Sometimes someone asks me why I spend my little free time observing and photographing wildlife and wandering across woods, swamps, mountains and countryside with several kilograms of equipment on the shoulders. On the spot I tend to give the same answers: " You know, it's normal when the love for nature meets the love for photography " ... or ... " It's a great way to escape from the greyness of the city life and breath a little" . Yeah, it makes sense, but maybe these answers can't fully justify the mania that comes just before a photo trip, the nostalgia that swoops on me once I return home, and why not, the investment in new equipment.
What's then this "magic power" ?
The answer appears quite clearly when you grasp the camera and look through the viewfinder. It's the simple emotion that you feel when you frame a landscape that takes your breath away, it's the thrill that runs down your spine when your sight meets the subject's one in the telephoto, it's the curiosity teased by the observation of the rhythms of the life of beings that by their nature are often very distand, but are in fact closer than you think.
Here's the mistery revealed than. I don't shoot photos to show them as trophies, but simply to bring home a memory of a great emotion and, perhaps, to have the presumption to make those who look at them more aware of the preservation of something that deserves much more respect.