Came across a falling lilac bush in the city center. I’m always amazed by how adaptable plants are. Trees growing even on rooftops — or this lilac bush, on the verge of collapsing, yet still holding on and delighting us with its spring attire.
You walk down a noisy street. Everything is predictable — you know what you’ll see, you know how this evening will end. It feels safe; you’ve walked this path a thousand times before.
But then you pass an archway that leads into the darkness. What awaits you there?
Earlier this evening — a Moment That Illuminated the Garden.
It’s cloudy, as if it’s about to rain. I’m hurrying home to grab a spare battery for my camera, but suddenly I freeze: in the overcast garden, everything around is lit by a calm, beautiful young spring tree. Despite being in a rush, I stop, take out my camera, and snap a few shots. I’m eager to capture this magical moment. A moment of birth.
A few hours later — The moment I turned into the dark.
I came across an interesting bike in the night city. It feels like I captured a little scene—something is clearly happening here. Maybe the stenciled figure left their bike by the pole and went off to a late-night store or a date. Or maybe we’re actually witnessing the aftermath of an accident? If you pay close attention to the world around you, you’ll start to notice all sorts of curious things. It’s useful to see the invisible.
Walked at sunset with the excellent lens Mir-1V.
