It’s a picture perfect sunny afternoon in San Francisco. The chill of off-shore fog is seasoning the breeze, though nary a cloud is visible on this side of Twin Peaks. Birds are chirping and my feet are bare.
So why, on earth, do I have this photograph – taken on a sub-freezing afternoon during a walk in southern Germany – on my mind?
The December light was perfect. The chill through my body, anything but. It was one of those moments that made removing my gloved hands from my pockets so worthwhile. The gloves came off, and my bare hands met the winter air and the metal body of my camera. In mere seconds, focus, frame, and *click*. Back into the warmth my digits returned. I shot just one frame.
Today I dedicate this photo and the memory and power of trees to my friend, NK.
Sometimes you sit and watch a moment unfold before you. Sometimes you think you’re documenting an aspect of that moment and find that you’ve captured something altogether unexpected. So it was while sitting on a friend’s back patio this fall, separating grapes from raisins, feeding grapes to chickens, and chatting the afternoon way.
This is far from the typical July 4th image, but it’s one of my favorite found flag moments. And it reminds me that I need to walk around the Mission with my camera with a little more frequency.
