I always come back to this image. It's blurry and imperfect, but it's this photo out of the three rolls I shot in Seattle that brings me back to the rainy weekend I spent there last year. I still remember the exact moment I took it. One day, after dinner, we walked around Green Lake. I took this photo on the ride back to hotel, wanting to hold onto the fleeting glow of sunset and remember the bridge we had crossed numerous times during our trip.
It was March, and we had flown to Seattle on the first day of spring. I remember feeling like there was something special about the trip. I had gone to visit a college, and so, there was a newness to it, furthered by the fact that spring had just begun.
In many ways, this photo truly embodies the trip itself—it was short and spontaneous—but in a way, just what I needed. It was here that the realization of how much would change in the coming year really sunk in. As I looked out the window at takeoff, I realized that at that time next year, for the first time, I might not be in San Francisco.
It was a blur of a trip, spent dashing between the rain to as many places as we could. As I often do, I tried to fit as much as possible into the weekend we spent there, but it's these unplanned moments that I remember most vividly. That's the thing about photography and what makes me love it so much—it makes me appreciate the small moments.
This was just one year ago, but so much has changed since then. I visited one college while in Seattle, thinking I'd go to school there, but as it happens, things change in an instant.