I don’t get to Philadelphia often. When I do, it’s almost overwhelming. So much stimulus for this small-town boy. More city, more traffic, more photo opportunities and, most importantly, more characters. It’s a goldmine. But, unlike beloved Baltimore, it’s a real chore getting there. Driving is a nightmare and the train requires way too much exact scheduling that my life just doesn’t jive with.
This last time in Philadelphia I made it a point to get to the city’s Chinatown. I had never been there, and I was anxious to explore. I found it to be small in comparison to New York City’s, but still busy and the sidewalks crowded.
On this particular Saturday, I was struggling to get a good shot. The sidewalks were high volume veins pumping people in and out of Chinatown. Being unfamiliar with the layout, I was also struggling trying to find a good place to “set up camp” and wait for a shot to come to me.
Luckily, as I stepped off the curb to scan the scene, this woman went to cross the street. She stopped and looked back and up. Why, I have no idea. There was nothing up there. Just rooftops and sky. She froze there for a few seconds and I snapped her. I loved the look on her face, as if she was really trying to see something up there, off in the distance.