Just when you thought I was stuck on spring, I turned left. I walked right into the street, chasing a second line.
The weather warmed up a bit. Everybody seemed happy to be there. The ladies rode. The kids rode. The bands played on.
No matter what, to me, there is nothing like a brass band playing on the street. It’s music. It’s loud. It makes everyone smile. And, dance.
Oh yeah. It’s chaotic. Good chaotic.
It even makes my poor hip and back feel better. It’s like magic. That’s not entirely true. I walk faster and harder than I normally might. I avoid crashing into other people. I avoid falling into potholes. My muscles warm up. My back loosens. And, I live entirely in the moment.
I did, however, crash into a cop. He was in his thirties and built like an NFL linebacker. He looked at me. I looked at him. We both held our hands out in that “what do you want from me expression,” and we were good. That stuff happens.
The picture. I’d like to tell you that I planned this. That I made the picture just as I thought I would. Oh no. Instead, I was walking with the band. I stuck my lens in between two other musicians and pressed the button. I didn’t know I had it until after I downloaded my take and started editing it. What I did know was that this guy was playing hard, turning his head up into the sun. If I walked near him I knew that I might get a chance to make a picture something like this. I’d call this luck. Photographer’s luck.