My three year old loves to use our camera. (Thank goodness for digital photography!) He clicks happily away enjoying acting like one of the adults and seeing instant results from his favorite task – button pushing. It is sweet to watch him take himself so seriously as he experiments with the different settings and camera angles. I’m sure he doesn’t realize it, but he has taken on a funny personal project that keeps me curious as I wait to see how long he will stick with it. This is his photographic study: Each time he takes my camera he always spends at least a few minutes examining his feet, arranging them “just so,” and then photographing them. Here are a few of his masterpieces.
Sometimes he will take pictures of other funny subjects too, but none with such passion as his own feet. My favorite are:
- close-ups of his sister’s nose
- the underside of chairs, tables etc.
- the backsides of people we don’t know
- car and truck wheels
- other peoples feet
Then every once in a while there is a gem like this that appears – I would never think to take a photo of his shadow, but I am SO glad that he did.
In his shadow you can’t tell just how little he is. That’s the funny thing about shadows, they shorten and stretch, and remove all distinguishing characteristics. It makes me wonder just what he will look like as he gets older. What will he enjoy doing? Who will he become?
My Shadow
By Robert Lewis Stevenson
From Child’s Garden of Verses
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow–
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes goes so little that there’s none of him at all.
He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close behind me, he’s a coward you can see;
I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.