Alright, let’s talk about auto focus. You hear all the time from the “experts” that manual focus is the only way to go if you’re serious. They make it sound like auto focus is just for, you know, your grandma taking holiday snaps. For a long time, I kind of bought into that. I was all about that manual life, twisting that focus ring like I was defusing a bomb for every shot.
My So-Called “Manual Purity” Phase
I’d spend ages setting up for a shot, especially if it was something I really cared about. And yeah, when you nail it in manual, it feels good. But man, the number of times I missed a moment because I was too busy fiddling. Or I thought I had it, then I’d look at it on the computer and it’s just… slightly off. Infuriating. I’d blame myself, “gotta get better at manual,” I’d think. My early attempts at anything moving fast? Forget about it. A blur fest. My dog, kids playing, even a bird that decided to sit still for two seconds – often just soft.
So how did I end up actually using auto focus and, dare I say, relying on it? It wasn’t by choice, let me tell you.
It really hit home a while back. I was supposed to be helping out a mate, covering a small local festival. Not a paid gig, just doing a favor. I had my usual camera bag, felt all prepared. Then, disaster. My main lens, the one I used for almost everything and was super comfortable focusing manually with, just…died. The focus ring jammed or something. Completely stuck. I was in a bit of a panic. The event was starting, people were expecting photos.
All I had left was this old kit lens I barely ever used, one that honestly wasn’t great for manual focusing – the focus throw was tiny and imprecise. My only real option if I wanted to get any shots was to slap that thing on and switch the camera to auto focus. I felt like such a fraud. “Here I am, supposed to be the ‘camera guy,’ and I’m using auto focus like a total beginner,” I thought. My ego took a hit, for sure.
What Auto Focus Actually Grabbed for Me
So there I was, forced into it. And I just started shooting. Point, half-press, click. And you know what? The world didn’t end. In fact, I started getting usable stuff, way faster than I would have if I’d tried to fight that dodgy lens manually.
- There were these folk dancers, swirling around. Auto focus, especially the continuous kind, actually did a decent job tracking them. Not every shot was perfect, but I got sequences where they were sharp.
- Stallholders chatting with people. The face detection on the auto focus picked them out pretty well, even in cluttered backgrounds.
- Kids running around with painted faces. Again, quick snaps, and the auto focus, more often than not, found the face.
- Even some general crowd shots, capturing the atmosphere. The camera just picked a reasonable point of focus, and it worked for the scene.
Sure, some shots were missed. The AF would sometimes latch onto the wrong thing, especially if it was really busy. But the hit rate, for that chaotic environment and my compromised gear situation, was surprisingly high. Higher than if I’d stubbornly tried to manually focus that crappy lens and missed everything.
That whole experience was a bit of a wake-up call. I’d been so hung up on the “right” way to do things, I’d forgotten that the main goal is to get the photo. Auto focus isn’t a crutch; it’s a tool. Sometimes it’s the most practical tool for the job. Since then, I’m not afraid to use it. If the situation calls for speed and capturing a moment over absolute pinpoint artistic control, auto focus gets the nod. That old kit lens? Still gathers dust mostly, but it taught me a lesson that day. And my mate got his festival photos, which was the whole point, wasn’t it?
