one camera is an experiment. a tray is a procedure.
Everybody looks at the open pigeon. I understand this. It is an open pigeon. But look at the bottom right of the photograph: a whole tray of camera units, sitting in neat rows like replacement door handles.
The two finished birds behind the technician have inventory tags. There is no dramatic presentation, no unveiling, no man pointing triumphantly at a bird. Just a bench, a meter and another unit waiting its turn.
The removable feather cover is the detail that sends me back to the service manual. It is lying on the bench as if it is something you take off every afternoon. The manual calls it a shell. The drawing calls something else a breast panel. I have not resolved whether those are different parts or different versions.
Someone labelled the tray. Someone ordered the trays. Someone had to decide how many camera units fit in a tray. There would have been an entire conversation about trays. This is what keeps me awake.