Sacramento River, late ’80s. Kodak TMX 100. Maybe a Bronica. Maybe the start of something.
We didn’t call it a shoot. We just wanted to make something before the light was gone.
It wasn’t posed. It wasn’t planned.
There’s a reflector sneaking in from the edge — we left it in.
I don’t remember the camera. Just that it wasn’t mine.
But I remember the moment. That counts for more.