I have come to realize that I have a special affinity toward my tripod. It is more than just a piece of metal that is useful for placing a camera atop.

My tripod is my bulky companion on many a photoshoot. Like a significant other, it can get in the way, limiting my freedoms in the moment. But also like a significant other, when it pays off, it pays off big, and I remember all the reasons why I have it. My tripod and I work together to create something beautiful together, I creating an artistic frame and selecting the right times and places, and my tripod provides the necessary stability for this, so that when the light is low there is still a crisp image.

I feel secure with my tripod. If I am walking back to my apartment and am going through a neighborhood that may be a bit seedy, I know that I have 10 or so pounds of solid metal with a high-torque swing available to me, and have no need to fear. Whether the blows would be fatal I don’t know, but I have no doubt that some serious damage could be done with it. If I am hiking, even with friends, and we were to encounter a black bear, there is no need to fear, for my tripod is here. Alien invasion? No problem: I have a tripod. And such is my motto: speak softly and carry a big tripod.

And also, my traps are not entirely (but almost) insignificantly enhanced from consistently carrying it on my shoulders. I just have to keep it from always being on one side or I could end up looking like Quasimodo.