I had driven four hours to the Great Smoky Mountains with my then-new Nikon Z5 mirrorless camera. A winter hike in one of my favorite places felt like the perfect way to break in my upgraded system. When I arrived at the Oconaluftee Visitor Center, I set up to capture the elk bugling, only to discover my camera wouldn’t turn on. A few moments of fiddling confirmed the sinking feeling in my stomach: the fully charged battery was still snugly plugged into the wall back home.
It felt like a crisis. I had needed this trip desperately. The weather was ideal, and the conditions promised magical views. It was a perfect day… and I was without a working camera.
After a few moments of wrestling with my own absent-mindedness, I decided I still needed the hike. I drove to my trailhead and began the climb. The path was coated in ice, and the cold mist drifting through the valleys below was breathtaking. Still kicking myself for not having my “proper” camera, I pulled out my phone. If I couldn’t capture the perfect photograph, I could at least hold onto the memory of an otherwise perfect day.
Later, back home, I was thrilled to find the images had turned out beautifully. The summits floated above an icy mist, and the light faded softly into shadow. Everything I had hoped to capture with my empty Nikon. One day, I’ll make it back with a fully charged battery, but this image will always hold a special place in my heart. It reminds me that even when things go wrong, they can still turn out just right.
