I first ran out of iCloud storage a few years ago — an ailment which Google Photos remedied for a few short but sweet months. In that time, I enjoyed temporary freedom from Apple Photos alerts regarding my thousands of unsaved photos and videos. But, as of about two years ago, I find myself, a chronic photographer, having exhausted Google storage as well. Since then, I’ve been engaged in an ever-challenging war, a one-sided war I have waged against Apple and Google. For my sovereignty, my honor, and — more importantly — my pocket, I cannot subject myself to the bonds of their monthly storage plans, even if they actually do start at $1.99. Instead, I am bound to the difficulty of periodically wiping my photos apps, toiling over which chronicles to keep and which to lose — forever.
Today, we visited Bothongo Rhino & Lion Nature Reserve, located about forty-five minutes from our lodging, even further from the city of Johannesburg. As a City Girl™️, this was unlike anything I’d experienced before. I, wonderstruck and mindless, managed to snap an excessive two-hundred-fifty photos and videos. Upon our return, I planted myself on the heated tile floors of Room 11, phone in hand, prepared to probe today’s photos. The time of judgment had arrived, and its hand — my hand — though reluctant, was prepared to do what it must.
Looking through the photos, I couldn’t conquer a creeping disappointment. The energizing, impressive wildlife I’d seen was, at that point, deliciously fresh in my mind’s eye. And all these creatures, now 2D on my phone, had undergone a depressing transformation. Glare caused by the glass window and grain caused by my iPhone camera’s zoom — as well as graceless photography skills on my part — had produced many a Walmart Nat Geo shot. Largely, the pictures I took today did not do the wildlife justice. Even more so, they did not do the moments justice.
My blurry shots of the cheetahs didn’t capture how the bus came to life with their discovery. Even one of my preferred images from today, a picture of the eighty-seven, scarily steep stairs leading us down into Wonder Cave, didn’t capture the anxiety and anticipation that came with each step.
My favorite images from today have to be those in which I find our group — our faces, our voices. The selfies with lions and giraffes, us with giddy smiles on our faces. The videos of lions plopping themselves on grass, us talking in the background, lovingly fawning over these animals that we know could and would kill us. The images I know I must save are not my most professional-looking but rather those which I know I can’t find with a Google Search. They are the shots that remind me of the shock and joy and wonder that came with our every sight. They are chronicles of not just what we saw, but also the feelings we shared.
Authentically documenting travels is hard, especially on low storage. But, truthfully, I’m quite grateful for my storage situation as it’s caused me to think more critically about what I want to capture of this adventure, what I want to look back on in years to come. It’s helped me realize that, while here, I need to prioritize documenting not only the stories we’ve heard but also the stories we’ve created.
