An Unexpected Friend

It’s my first time in Chicago, and like every other tourist, I end up at The Bean. Inspecting the sculpture, I think it may be the most fascinating thing in all of existence. The way the light plays off the metallic surface, how the images morph depending on where I stand... It’s beyond fascinating. So me being me, I pull out my professional-grade camera and start shooting some pictures. I take photographs up close, far away, and at weird angles just to see what will come out. I play around with different exposures, too. I even think about setting up a camera for a few hours, just to see how it might turn out. Unfortunately, as soon as the thought enters my brain, I see someone else has beat me to it.

A person probably 10 feet from me has already set up their camera. They even have a folding chair set up so I know they’re in it for the long haul. As I inspect their setup, I notice that their camera lens is covered still, so I decide to go over and have a little chat to let them know. We’ve all had the issue of not taking off the lens cap. I just want to make sure it won’t happen to this person, too.

I approach cautiously and they look up at me from their book, shielding their eyes from the blazing sun.

“Hey, I noticed your lens cover was still on. I just wanted to let you know.” I tell them.

They glance at their camera and jump as though they’ve been abruptly spooked, immediately hopping up from their chair to take off the lens cover. “Thanks for letting me know, kind sir.” They say.

“No problem.” I turn to walk away when they stop me with a soft hand on my arm.

“What kind of camera do you have? I noticed you were taking a lot of shots earlier.” They gaze over at me expectantly.

I peer down at the camera hanging around my neck, as though I have no idea what camera I have with me. “It’s a Canon EOS R7 with a lens on it. I can’t remember which lens I brought with me, honestly.” I chuckle, slightly embarrassed.

I always pride myself on knowing what kind of camera I have, but this individual has put me off my game a little bit. The person in front of me has long hair tied up in a messy bun, with a cardigan over a tank top and some jeans. They look like some kind of hipster since the cardigan is multicolored and very flowy. They seem really cool, I think to myself. I have to bring myself back to reality to respond to their next sentence:

“Oh, no worries. I have one of those at home if I recall correctly. It’s a nice little machine.” They say with a bright smile.

“Oh, yeah. It gets the job done, that’s for sure.” I laugh again. Jeez, if only I could stop making a fool of myself.

“Well, have a good day!” They say quickly as they sit back down. I’m a little taken aback by their reply, but I decide that they probably just want to get back to their book, so I leave them alone and go back to photographing The Bean.

After about an hour more, I decide to go to a coffee shop to start going through all of my shots. I walk down the street, looking for a place to set up. I find a little cafe about a block away from The Bean, set my stuff down at a nearby table, and go order a large black iced coffee before I get to work.

Approximately 30 minutes later, the bell to the shop chimes and I look up and find my previous acquaintance from The Bean walking in with all their stuff. I startle in surprise and wave over at them, hoping to get their attention. I have no idea why I did, but something in me is simply inquisitive about them.

They see me and start as though they have just seen a long-lost friend. Their smile shines as they make their way over to my table in the corner.

“Fancy seeing you here, friend.” They say cheerily. “Do you mind if I join you?” They gesture towards the open chair opposite me.

“The spot is yours,” I answer with a smile.

They set their stuff down before wandering off to get a coffee of their own. I’m not sure what they get, but it is definitely not a black coffee. They come back to the table with their drink and pull out their computer before plugging their camera into it. They scroll on their computer for a little bit before they stop and look up at me.

“Hey, I never got your name.” They say inquisitively.

I stick my hand out for them to shake. “My name is Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack. I’m Zephyr.” They say.

“That’s a unique name.”

“Thanks, I picked it myself.” They chuckle. I laugh along with them and then return to my work for a little bit.

We sit in silence, only interrupted by the clicking of our keyboards and the low murmurs of patrons surrounding us, until they sigh heavily and lean back into their chair, taking a long sip from their drink.

“I never actually wanted to be a photographer.” They say out of the blue. I look over at them with a curious look on my face, urging them to continue. “Well, I wanted to be a dancer. I ended up blowing out my knee in a competition a few years ago… Picked up a camera at Best Buy on a whim because my friend told me I was good at photographing her for Instagram. I’ve fallen in love with the art.”

I ponder their words as I think back to how I got into photography. I grew up around cameras. My parents had a photography business and would often let me accompany them on their excursions. It was what I had always known. I’m even scheduled to take over the family business once my parents retire.

“I guess I’ve always been in love with photography. Both of my parents are photographers. They own a small business back home in Vermont.” I explain.

Zephyr smiles at me. “That’s really cool.”

We go back to work for a while before Zephyr starts to pack up. “I need to get home, but here. Take my card.” They pass me a business card with a simplistic design, “Zephyr Photography” and their number on the front, and nothing on the back. “Call me sometime. I liked chatting with you and I need more photographer friends.”

I nod in agreement, but before I can utter a goodbye they’re out the door in the blink of an eye. Who would have thought my little trip to The Bean would end in a new, budding friendship?