If you didn’t take a photo, did it really even happen? Of course it did! Photos are tangible pieces of memory, and we all love to show off evidence of our travels. Don’t get me wrong, I love sharing my travel images with my family and my readers, and there is nothing wrong with wanting to remember an experience through a photograph. But sometimes I need to put the camera away and simply enjoy what’s around me.
There’s a scene in the movie The Secret Life of Walter Mitty where world-renown photojournalist Sean O’Connell has spent days out in the harsh landscape of the Himalayas in search of the elusive snow leopard for his latest TIME photo essay. When the leopard finally appears out of the mist, however, O’Connell does nothing, only watching it intently from above his camera. Confused, Walter asks him when he’s going to take the photo for which he’s been waiting days in the bitter cold. “Sometimes, I don’t,” O’Connell replies. “If I like a moment, for me personally, I don’t like to have the distraction of the camera. I just want to stay in it . . . Right there. Right here.”
I didn’t understand the meaning of O’Connell’s words until I was standing on the edge of a sea-battered cliff on the island of Inis Mór. The wind beat hard against a cloudy sky, and the views of the Atlantic were breathtaking. The small crowd that was with me on the cliffside were snapping photos every few seconds. Normally, I would be doing the same thing, trying to find the perfect vantage point and angle. But I had an overwhelming feeling in that moment to leave my camera in its case and take everything in with my own eyes.
So I spent an hour sitting with my feet dangling off the cliffside, breathing in the sea air deeply and absorbing the beauty around me. There was nothing like that feeling. And I would have missed it had I spent time trying to find the perfect shot. I don’t need to have it on camera because I have it in my mind. Experiencing it not through the “distraction” of a lens, but rather through my own memory brings back the visceral feeling of being there: the salty air that bitterly whipped around me and the rhythmic beating of waves against rock. A photo may have allowed me to remember it, but it may not have allowed me to experience it as I did that chilly day.