Tripod
On a Sunday drive down the coast Jenya and I were approaching Big Sur. We pulled off at one turnoff which promised some fun scrambles down to the water where we could commune with the giant rocks and waves. Unlike usual this vista point was fairly unoccupied. Except for us there was only a pickup with Alabama plates. Its occupants were two young couples who already headed down the sandy paths.
Jenya and I took our time and checked out the vistas at various forks at we descended towards the ocean. Off the main trail we spotted a tripod, seemingly left behind like a gift from god. This was oddly fortuitous as Jenya brought incredible camera gear to capture some sights today, but forgot to bring her tripod. Score!
But as we picked it up one of the Alabamans on the rocks below waved at us and shouted something unintelligible. It was clear from their body language this was their tripod. I guess they temporarily left it there semi hidden as to keep their hands free for more tricky maneuvers. Fair enough. We dropped it and continued on our way.
As we approached the water one of the others collected the tripod, perhaps to keep it safe from future thieves, and brought it closer to where they were hanging out on a rocky perch right by the ocean splashing below. Jenya and I explored elsewhere until the Alabamans made themselves scarce.
Now alone, we went up to that same perch to check out the view. Ah, coastal California is sure beautiful. And ha ha look - those kids accidentally left the tripod behind. Idiots. They were out of sight now, so should we just take it?
We did, in the hopes they would realize their mistake and return for it by the time we got back up to the road, thus saving them the scramble down to retrieve it. But they didn't. Now what?
Not wanting to wait around, we not only left the tripod there in the turnoff but set it up so they could see it clearly if they came back. We imagined their happy faces as they return and find it just standing there waiting for them. Already we felt cleansed by a shower of good karma.
We continued on our free form adventure, watching the sun set from the coast further south, and then slowly working our way back north. As we did we passed the earlier turnout, and lo and behold - the Alabama truck was parked there! Jenya and I cheered. They came back for their abandoned tripod!
Should we stop, turn around, and say hey to those kids and let them know we left it there? A hero's welcome would be nice, but here's the thing - we drove by too fast and I didn't really see any signs of that tripod outside by their truck. Did they already get it and pack it away? Or.. did somebody else snag it and now were they scrambling down to the shore hunting for it in the fading twilight? Hmm.
I wasn't sure I wanted to deal with the outcome if we did in fact screw them over by making the tripod so obvious and available to others driving by. But we were trying to help the Alabamans! And should I feel guilty about anything? It's not our fault they fucked up and left it behind. I mean, for a while there we were thinking of just keeping it for ourselves.
But we had to know: Did they get their tripod back? Or not?
Ultimately I realized the beauty in not knowing. Sometimes closure is a form of narcissistic gluttony. How many times every day do our actions - positive and negative, active and passive - affect fellow humans, usually insignificantly, but possibly in deeper ways we could never conceive? Every move, every decision we make results in an infinite series of what-if's. So why should the outcome of the tripod be so important?
We didn't stop - we kept driving home.