On my recent trip to Ocean Grove, NJ, I was up before the crack of dawn every morning, bundling up and tiptoeing down the stairs of the cozy Victorian house where we were staying, cell-phone in hand, heading to the beach. As soon as I reached the sand dunes, I kicked my shoes off and walked to the edge of the water, keeping a close watch, waiting for the Sun to make its first appearance of the day. As soon as I saw that orange ball peek over the horizon, the picture-snapping would start. Fifty, sixty, one hundred snapshots a session, always seeking to capture with my camera the simultaneously serenely cool and riotously hot orange orb I saw rising up from the ocean. Morning after morning, the orange orb behind the brilliant flare eluded me. All I got was this…and this…and this…
While walking down Fifth Avenue yesterday, I thought I’d take a shot of the Flatiron Building. The sun was in my eyes and I had no idea what I was photographing. I just pointed and shot, like I always do.
This afternoon, I was looking over the dozens of photographs I took yesterday. The ones of the Flatiron Building make it look a little bit like a beacon with the brilliant globe that is the sun shining above it. And then I saw it. There. Hiding behind the blinding brilliance: the orange orb of the Sun!