The Strap Was Not Latched

July twentieth. The connector was not latched. I know this now with the kind of certainty you only get after a stranger puts their hand briefly in the air in front of you at an intersection and says, very calmly, your camera, and you look down and the strap is hanging free from one end, the whole thing swinging by a clip that had not clicked all the way in.

I caught it before it went anywhere. I want to be clear about that, because the version of this story where I watch the workshop camera hit a crosswalk on a Sunday afternoon is a version I cannot emotionally afford. What actually happened is that I grabbed it, stepped out of the crosswalk when the light changed, and stood at the corner for probably a full minute just holding it against my chest like that was a normal thing to do in public. The stranger was already half a block away. I didn't even get to say thank you properly. I said it to the general direction they had gone, which I realize was useless.

after the close call, obviously still took the shot

After I checked the clip, latched it, tested it, latched it again, I took a photo of the intersection. I'm reporting this as a fact without attempting to analyze it. The light was coming in from the left and it was a good angle and the adrenaline was apparently doing something useful for my attention span. The frame was fine. I already know which one I'd keep if I were picking.

I've been thinking, since I got home, about how little I've been treating the camera like something I care about. Not in a neglectful way, more like how you stop noticing the things you've decided are already yours. The strap was probably half-latched the entire walk. I just never thought to check it. I'm checking it from now on, which is the most obvious possible lesson, and also the only one this story has to offer.