During summer harvest season, I devote most waking hours to keeping weeds at bay, picking crops, washing fruits and veg, preserving food and saving seeds to plant the following year. Those tasks do not allow for a lot of play time, but recently, I scheduled a late afternoon restaurant delivery in a nearby town and, as it happens, Richard also had an appointment in the same vicinity, so we decided to relax on the restaurant's patio and enjoy a pleasant weather evening.
After seating us and delivering drinks, our server left to submit our food order to the kitchen. Since it was a little early for the dinner crowd, we shared the patio with only a few other diners. Enjoying the brief respite from busy lives, we chatted as a high cloud cover brought cool relief from the day's earlier high temperatures. As I scanned the sky, checking to be sure there was no imminent rain headed our way, I noticed a small flying device approaching the patio. Bobbing, gliding
and occasionally hovering, I realized the object was a drone. My first
drone sighting and it looked as if the machine were stalking us as its
prey.
|
Dinner below, drone above |
After
the initial surprise of the unwelcome visitor, Richard and I soon
spotted the drone's operator, standing in an adjacent parking lot.
Since we had pointed at the intruder and I snapped a couple of photos of
it, the operator knew we were aware of its presence and after he
retrieved and packed the drone away, he walked into the downstairs
restaurant. As he crossed below our table, he called to us, "I hope
that wasn't too intrusive!" Since we had nothing nice to say, we said
nothing. Later, our server explained to us that the downstairs
restaurant owner hired the drone operator to take some "test photos" for
advertisement and he commiserated with us about feelings of privacy
invasion.
As we left, I wondered if perhaps this situation is something that diners will face more often in the future. As we enjoy dining al fresco, will we be targets for anyone who wishes to photograph our private events, our food or, for Pete's sake, eavesdrop on private conversations? Just something to consider when we ask for that table under the stars. . .