Friday, January 23, 2009

Not Just Any Tripod


I realized that my camera had sat in my drawer all day long when I looked out the window less than half an hour ago and the round yellow lights outside each apartment in my complex had started to glow.

The flood lights from the university's baseball field (just across the fence) defied the setting sun.

I took a look at the bowl of soup I had just warmed up and headed out onto the landing to take advantage of the last moments of daylight, but it was a struggle holding the camera steady enough in my hands. I ran inside for my trusty tripod and memories flooded back as I twisted the small device into the bottom of my camera.


This isn't just any tripod. It's plain and simple and probably cost me $5 at Fred Meyer, but it was purposefully bought in the weeks leading up to my college semester abroad. At nineteen years old I was gearing up for four months in Oxford, England and saying I was excited doesn't even begin to describe it.

Sure, life follows you wherever you go, and the trials it brings certainly found me in Oxford too, but that place was beautiful. It wasn't just the old brick homes, the cobblestones along Cornmarket, the slew of pedestrians that I kept company with on the sidewalks (politely ignoring each other, of course), or the lush green landscape maintained by drizzly rain (reminding me of home) that made it this way. It was the close friendships with my housemates and the more informal ones with my fellow volunteers at Oxfam. It was the adventure of surfacing from the underground in a new city (often across the Channel) and finding our way.

And it was specific moments like when my friend, Erin, and I spent sunset at the ruins of the Temple of Apollo. It sits on top of a hill off the coastline of the city of Naxos, on the island of Naxos, Greece, and the wind from the sea whips up and over it as the sun silently but dramatically sets in shades of pink and purple.

That particular night my little tripod came out of my purse once again so we could set up the self timer, huddle on the ground, and attempt to hold our hair down for the camera. It was at least the hundredth time we had chosen to entertain ourselves in this way since becoming friends back in Oxford, and along the way we had decided our faithful travel companion (yes, the tripod) deserved a name. I really don't know where it came from, but Trevor was one of our first ideas and it stuck.

Trevor the tripod.

Trevor continued to go everywhere with us, and we looked for opportunities to drop statements like, "I need some Trevor in my life" and other nonsense. Though the Trevors I've met (the people-type) haven't necessarily been tall, dark, and handsome, somehow the little tripod took on that persona.

So tonight I just thought I'd introduce you to Trevor. He helped me get this shot of my cup of soup, after all. And it's meant just for you.


Rachael said...

I never heard you mention Trevor before. Thanks for introducing him to us.
Hope your Saturday was great.

Anonymous said...

haha!! i have a 3 legged ginger cat called trevor the tripod and i just googled it!!!! :)