There we were, on the median of Broad Street with nearly three thousand dollars of camera equipment, and it had suddenly gotten so dark that we were raising the exposure between every shot. And then, just when i was expecting a downpour of icy rain to trickle into every nook and cranny of our digital camera, down came a smattering of cottony white flakes.
Snow against the stunning red brick of the building was perfect contrast, and i was set on shooting through the storm so we wouldn’t have any continuity breaks in our footage. However, within minutes the smattering had turned into a horizontal blanket of white, and even with my jacket wrapped around the camera and my hands cupped around the viewfinder it was obvious that nature had gotten the best of us. We packed it in and sprinted for the stairs to the subway so we could wipe off the dissolving white flakes from the silvery surface of our Sony.
By the time my trolley came up from underground we were back down to an F-Stop of 8 — the sun was out in force, reflecting back up from tiny puddles lying on darkened cement. I smacked myself squarely in the foreheard with the end of my tripod.
I’d given up before the most beautiful part.