5 seconds
I have been thinking about the magnetic attachment of the OP7.
It saves perhaps five seconds.
Just the time for me to cross our backyard. Something had hit the pole.
Which doesn’t sound like much.
If I already know that I am going out to photograph something, five seconds probably makes no meaningful difference.
But close-looking often begins differently.
Something catches my attention.
A change in light. A contrast. Frost on a juniper branch I have passed many times before.
There is a moment when noticing can become looking closer - or not.
Here five seconds can matter.
Friction doesn’t merely cost time. It changes which behaviors occur.
Five seconds of friction repeated around something exploratory can gradually eliminate the behavior altogether. Remove those same five seconds and a different habit can begin to form.
Attach the lens.
Look.
Detach.
Continue walking.
This is why apparently trivial ergonomic details can sometimes matter more to the resulting photographs - and perhaps to the experience - than another increment of optical performance.
A magnetic attachment.
A compact lens/camera.
Aperture priority.
None of these necessarily makes a better photograph.
They make photographing more likely to happen.
And after enough repetition, something else changes.
The setup begins to feel less like a collection of optimized photographic equipment and more like a playable instrument.
With an instrument, technique does not disappear because there is less of it.
It disappears because it has moved into the body.
Perhaps good tools sometimes do the same.
They remove just enough friction that intention can become action before the moment has passed.
^^^ (Ilford XP2 400, Canon EF 40mm f2.8 STM + OP7)
When the barrier to entry for taking macro-like photos through exploring the surroundings drops to an instantaneous "click," the gear stops feeling like a chore and starts feeling like an extension of my slowly aging eyes.
In. Out. Return. (Slightly changed.)