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Backlit trees with late-day shadows are a rare find. For the one or two perfect days in any winter when Jack practically falls over himself getting one perfect photo after another; there are probably 10 days when he leaves the house, usually close to dawn, and comes back with nothing. Nada. Zilch. Empty-handed, empty-hearted, and disappointed like you wouldn’t believe.
Because often it’s a near-miss. The big flakes stop falling, the sun peeks out just enough to shoot, and it’s all gone in a buttery meltaway. Jack frantically puts the car in gear, tries another road with a shadier orientation, but no the snow is melting fast. It’s over till another day. |
