Seattle: No Color as Mood

Seattle, dark, gray, cold, windy.

Well, not always, but on the day that I got to look around, it was, and frankly, I'm glad it was. I like these kind of days.

I'm a black and white fan, and these days are just what I want from time to time.

Days of great light are magical, but the great light typically exists for very brief moments at the arrival of day and the departure. You must be ready, ready to pounce, to know where to be, what to have in your hand and be able to feel what is around you.

But dark days are welcoming in many ways. There is no heart-racing panic to make a picture when the light is at it's crux. Instead you find yourself with time on your hands, a photographic luxury, but one that comes with responsibility.

The light on dark days is no crutch, it won't make the picture, most of the time, forcing you to spend thoughts on composition, depth, layering, and how you will utilize the darkness.

You can disappear in dark days, into the depth of life that takes a step back when the sun is hidden. Things move slowly, there is not the same joy that penetrates your skin through the rays of the sun.

Not much is expected. The world's guard is down, open and permission to just be is granted.

Forget about everything and feel that wind in your face. Red cheeks, turn your back and look around.

Seattle provided me the dark day, and a reunion provided me someone to photograph. Friends from 5th grade. Had not seen each other in 20+ years. A photographer as well. Clouds, scattered showers, wind, fresh salmon fish and chips, water and a brief time to just look around.