A Visit From St. Clickolas

As Christmas is soon upon us I thought I’d give you a present of this bit of doggerel in a feeble attempt to wish you Merry Christmas! Yes, I know, I’ve been hunkered down way to long, it’s started to affect my brain.  So with the profoundest of apologies to Clement Clarke Moore, I give you “A Visit From St. Clickolas”.

A Visit From St. Clickolas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house;
The only sound you heard, was the click of my mouse,
RAW files were cataloged in Lightroom with care;
In hopes that I could find them sometime, somewhere.
The kids on their phones, posting in IG;
Whoever told them bandwidth was free?
Mamma and I were settling down for a rest;
Still debating if Canon or Nikon is really the best,
When through the window I heard such a noise;
I had to reduce it because you know it annoys:
The noise was so loud it instantly awoke us;
I put on my glasses to let my eyes auto-focus
Away to the window I flew in a dash;
Knowing full well, Windows is likely to crash,
There on the lawn the sleigh fell with a pop;
He landed so hard it would be a big job to ‘shop,
Using auto-ISO on the new-fallen snow;
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what on my camera monitor did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Click.
He flies long distances and all at night;
But he sees his way with his trusty Speedlite,
More rapid than burst mode his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Adams! now, Lange! now Maier and Leibovitz!
On, Capa! on, Karsh! on, Daguerre and Stieglitz!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now flash away! flash away! flash away all!”
He had to get done and put on the power;
He wanted to be home for the golden hour,
He flew to the top as fast as the devil;
Never forgetting to keep the horizon level,
Down through the chimney he came with a plop;
Only fitting ‘cuz his belly he did crop,

Whistling and chuckling he started his task;
I almost didn’t recognize him under that mask;
There’s one gift not to give this year he duly noted;
So he masked up to keep us from getting Covid
He had on his vest all that was necessary;
A cloth, a loupe and a spare battery,
His smile was warm but his eyes were all red;
He stayed up all night editing instead of going to bed,
He’s bringing software and all that jazz;
Luminar, Adobe and even Topaz,
To our unique photo style will we simply say bye;
When we all process our photos using only AI?
And with a bag full of gear, he had yet to wrap;
Muttering “Where did I put that g%^ d#$% lens cap”,
Camera and lenses, oh what a mess;
I’d forgive it all, to get a new mirrorless,
The presents were scattered, but he hadn’t a care;
He just cleaned it up, with content-aware,
He said you’re going to be happy; wanna know why?
It’s because now Photoshop, can replace the sky,
I know it’s in Photoshop, can’t you just show me;
Sorry he said, no one can fathom Adobe.
He smiled and laughed and exclaimed Ho, ho, ho!
I bring presents from PhaseOne, ON1 and DxO,
There were tripods galore from Gitzo and MeFoto;
Along with those from Benro and Manfrotto,
In a year where Covid and politics have caused a great rift;
To keep it all in perspective you’ll like this tilt-shift.
And if you find all these goodies are never enough;
I’m sure we can find something from Really Right Stuff,
And to carry it all wherever you go;
Here’s a new backpack from Lowepro,
Laying out the presents he said not a word;
Composing them of course to the rule of thirds,
Working quite quick, he’d be leaving anon;
Delivering Sony, Canon and even Nikon,
Soon I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all Good Light!”