A frenzy can be exciting, exhilarating, and just plain stupid. I got all of those feelings on a airplane to Lijiang, in the province of Yunnan in China.
I was sitting near a window seat, looking straight ahead. I furiously chewed my bubble gum, and my hands gripped the elbow bars of the seat so hard my knuckles were white. This “little air draft”, as said by the flight captain, wasn’t so little after all.
Finally the plane smoothened. My knuckles returned to their usual tan color, and I let go of the elbow bars and actually put my elbow on it. I took a deep breath, and looked at my mom, whose brows were furrowed.
Then, I looked out the window. Amazed, I saw the most beautiful sight. Clouds were floating in beautiful fluffs, and some of them looked like pallid-white snow mountain peaks.
This most glorious sight was just like the thousands of pictures of clouds-and-blue-sky I had seen in magazines like National Geographic, Photographer, and on websites.
I wanted to take one of those photos too. I asked my mom to give me the camera, yet she told me, “It doesn’t have any power left.” My hands stopped, my anger churning as I realized that I myself had told my mom that the camera did not have juice.
However, I am the type of person that is not willing to give up. I reached my hand into my mom’s purse and took out the camera.
It had just so happened that the camera had a itsy-bitsy bit of juice left. Quickly, I turned it on.
Warning – Battery Low!
The screen displayed this message. Ignoring it, I lightly pressed the shutter, but not all the way so the warning was swapped out with a flashing battery on the top-right area of the screen.
Choosing a good-looking puff, I pressed the shutter.
To my delight, a picture appeared on the screen. Eagerly, I turned to shoot another one, but the screen was black.
Pitiful words were displayed.
Please change or recharge the battery pack.
Furious, I turned off the camera. I took out the battery, rubbed it in my hair, rubbed it on my shirt, said a short prayer, crossed my fingers, and blew on it with my breath. Then I inserted the battery back in.
To my pleasure, the screen showed the camera screen.
With one exception. The screen was black, with only the camera options bordering it.
Enraged, I flipped the camera around to see that the lens had not opened! It was still retracted with it’s lens covered by gray plastic covers. I turned the camera onto video mode (it’s a Canon PowerShot) and saw it was now gloriously showing. Flipping it back into camera mode, I saw pitiful words.
Please change or recharge the battery pack.
Furious, I turned off the camera and repeated the above procedures. Carefully, I opened it on camera mode. This time, with a happy sigh, I heard the tell-tale sound of the lens opening, the motors turning, and the screen brightening with my mom’s large face (which happened to be the direction I was turning it on in).
But time was limited. Quickly I turned toward the window.
Click.
A few seconds later…
Please change or recharge the battery pack.