This tireless die-hard fan of his bulky gear has been seen on this street corner on sunny days and rainy times alike. It was a day the rain was downpouring when I first saw him as he fearlessly slotted the film in the box camera donning a long black cloth. He had an umberlla on one hand and the film on the other. He probably had to use his mouth to hold the exposed film from the camera but it was too rainy and I too fascinated by his stunt to get a clear idea of how he went about it.
I would have chatted with this guy but there were enough curious folks stopping by and popping questions. So maybe next time.
(Leica X1)"Hi, would you mind if I include you in the picture?" I approached the lady with this question, stopping at a distance comfortable to her.She looked up and at me, smiling a puzzled smile, and paused a bit. I was half turning away, ready to go, saying, "Yes or no, maybe so? ...That's okay. Doesn't matter. Thank you very much."Then she hurried her reply with a radiant grin, "Okay." And I ended up with today's shot.
So yesterday morning I was up early with a bag of hopes and cameras tripping to the waterfront in Tsim Sha Tsui of Hong Kong to greet the sun in its annularly eclipsed attire. The newspaper said that the next happening of such over here would be 300 years later, a time when we can all conveniently watch from heavens. Sorry if you are destined for the hell.So the annular solar eclipse looked fantastic on the postcard I saw people joyously fanning in the air as I moved closely to the crowd already gathering there. It was 6:00, good gracious, just in time for the best 3-minute slot of the event. What happened next was an hour later it became obvious that in reality the solar eclipse was as good as an expanse of thick fluffy clouds. No sun was in sight. Considered it totally eclipsed by the clouds then, I thought to myself.But the morning was not totally wasted. Two expected things happened.
First, it was the power of herd mentality. Probably because the crowd had been in high hope of see…