Don’t laugh. Serendipity is not planned, of course, but one can put oneself in situations where serendipity is more likely to find you.

These days, it seems as though everyone’s lives are scheduled down to the last second. Kids are not allowed to be kids and find their own entertainment; instead they are shuttled off to enrichment programs, ballet, sports, music lessons, etc. Adults rush off to work and never stop to smell the flowers. Family calendars are devoid of blank days. This can be true for photographers, too. After all, we are people, albeit a strange breed. We often think outside of the box.

So, think outside of the box and open yourself up to new experiences. Allow things to happen. Let chance into your lives.

How many of you, when you travel for your photography, plan every night for your accommodations, your itinerary routed for every day? Not I. It’s against my religion. I also have a history of traveling off season.

Those of you who have read my blogs know I always use a Lonely Planet guide. There are about three dozen in my travel library, and they are my license to travel. They lead me to neat locations and help me avoid the tawdry. That said, there is nothing like local knowledge.

For example, some years ago, my elder daughter found a way to do a semester in Western Australia. My dad always said Oz and Alaska were the two last frontiers, so naturally, I wanted to go, too. My daughter’s presence there was the perfect excuse.

I arranged for two assignments, one on New Zealand’s North Island, and one across Oz. At that point, I still lived in New Hampshire, so the first stop was LAX, and from there to Hawaii. I always go armed with names of members in our photo association who live in the locations where I will be spending time. It’s a great resource.

After landing in LAX, I had a long layover. A charming middle-aged German couple and I got to chatting and sharing travel experiences. We decided that instead of spending untold hours in the airport, we would head to the beach. It was their first visit to the US, and they had never seen the Pacific Ocean. I was their interpreter and guide. A relatively short bus ride took us to Manhattan Beach where we kicked off our shoes and strolled at the water’s edge, basking in the sun and enjoying good conversation. We found an outdoor café and had a light lunch, their treat. After a lovely afternoon in the sun, we headed back to the airport in plenty of time to catch our flight to Hawaii, much refreshed and relaxed from our afternoon in the sun.

A 6:00 a.m. arrival in Oahu and a pre-midnight departure to the land of the Kiwi gave me plenty of time to go exploring. I called a photographer friend who invited me to his studio. I rented a car at the local, cheaper place he recommended and headed over to his place. While waiting for him, I got to know his assistant, and between the two of them, I had lots of possible places to go, including having dinner with the assistant and her family that evening. I took off along the south coast, avoiding the glitz of Waikiki, then meandered up along the east coast, stopping at the little local lunch spot they both recommended. The bartender offered more suggestions, and after a wonderful chef’s salad and a beer, I continued to make numerous stops along the way to capture this ocean view, or those blow holes, or whatever else caught my fancy.

The island had seen so much rain, that a lot of the trails to the spectacular waterfalls were closed because of mud slides. No beautiful cascades for me this time, so I contented myself with exploring one of the ancient, native spiritual sites. Set high on a plateau, I had the place to myself. I could feel the spirits as I respectfully wandered about. After awhile, a couple of hikers joined me. They knew a lot about the site and native culture, and we talked history, philosophy, and the spirituality of the place. They invited me to join them at their place on the beach on the north coast not far from where the paved road ended. So after puttering and photographing more along the east coast, I joined them for a glass of wine some hors d’oeuvres, a few swims in the surf, and some more conversation as we enjoyed the spectacular sunset. After an hour or so, keeping in mind my dinner invitation, I thanked them for their hospitality and took my leave.

I arrived back at the assistant’s house in time to find her in the midst of an emergency with her young son. As an at-the-time certified EMT, I talked with her family physician, and he concurred with my initial diagnosis of a mild concussion. We kept an eye on her son, and never let him sleep for more than an hour at a time. Dinner was obviously much delayed, but eventually, we sat down to a lovely meal, and we chatted as ladies often do. She was amazed at the serendipitous encounters I had in just a few hours, and said I had seen more in less than a day than she had in the several years she had been on the island.

Part II to be continued next time…

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