Hidden Talent reveal_coming soon.

At last, my long-awaited order—the mobile phone lens—has finally arrived. I’m extremely excited because I can now start using it for my hidden talent, which I’ve been eager to explore. It’s a 28× zoom lens, capable of capturing distant things clearly. Pretty soon, I’ll be posting some of the photos I take with this lens.

For now, I’m just trying it out—seeing whether the shots look good when I use the lens. I tried taking pictures from far away, just to test how sharp the lens is, how well it handles focus, clarity, and detail. The anticipation is almost overwhelming.

I feel like a child who is delighted beyond words upon finally getting something they’ve dreamed about. There’s this rush of joy, nostalgia even, because this lens seems to have refreshed something in me—a spark from when I was younger, always passionate about taking pictures of anything I saw. Back then, I used to wander around with a simple camera (or perhaps just watch the world around me), noticing everything: the way the light fell on tree leaves, the patterns of clouds, children playing in the distance, animals, sunsets, the shimmering of water in the early morning. I’d point my camera at nearly everything, trying to freeze moments, to preserve small wonders.

This lens gives me hope that I can restore that sense of wonder. Even before I try taking serious pictures, I feel alive in a way I haven’t for a while. There’s an energy inside me that says: “Yes, now I can capture the distant things. Now I can attempt those shots I could only imagine before.” The distance no longer has to be a barrier. Things that were only memories or dreams—of shooting birds perched atop a far branch, capturing the details of a mountain far away, or the pattern on a rooftop across the valley—suddenly feel possible.

I imagine late afternoons when the sky glows with warm light, and I’m leaning over a railing or lying on a grassy hill, phone steady in hand with this lens. I see myself trying out the zoom on things I once only observed with my eyes. Maybe at dusk, the glow of street lights in the distance, or the face of someone far away lit by the golden light. Perhaps even after dark, the moon or stars, or distant lights—seeing how this lens handles low‐light conditions. I imagine myself getting a little lost in trying to capture those perfect moments—waiting for just the right breeze to move the leaves, or for a bird to take off, or for a small animal to emerge.

In this feeling of waiting and testing, there is pure joy. It’s like being reunited with an old friend whose company I had forgotten but whose presence once brought me so much delight. There’s also a little nervous excitement—what if the lens doesn’t perform as well as I hope? What if the clarity isn’t sharp enough, or the focus misses sometimes at full zoom? But even that nervousness is part of the fascination. Because the possibility is there. I’m ready to learn, to test, to try different settings, lighting conditions, subjects. The imperfections won’t matter much; what matters is passion, the creative spirit, the act of seeing.

This arrival of the lens has done something to me: it has opened up possibilities that seemed out of reach. It’s not just the gear—it’s the anticipation of moments, stories waiting to be told through photographs. I feel that in every upcoming image, there’s a chance to capture something unique, something beautiful. Maybe small details no one else will notice; perhaps a pattern in the sky, or a texture on a distant object, or the faint outline of something beyond what the naked eye can make out.

So yes—the lens has arrived, and with it comes renewed hope, creativity revived, the thrill of possibility. I’m excited to start this journey again—wandering, observing, capturing. Soon enough, I’ll share the first photos. I believe these first shots will be imperfect, perhaps shaky or light off, but each one will mean something. Each will mark the beginning of seeing the world with new vision, with more closeness to distant things, with more connection to the hidden beauty that’s always been there if I only had the tool to reveal it. And that, more than anything, is what fills me with joy right now.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Stay tuned for my next blog post soon!

Photo template: @capcut