When snow falls slowly, history remains. Footprints stay, revealing the weight of the person who walked, whether they were an adult or a child, whether they were running or strolling. Snow reveals their path, exposing whether they were in a hurry or not. For example: a deep, hurried track means someone was in a rush, on the other hand, a light winding trail suggests someone wandering, lost in thought, and maybe thinking about writing poetry on Substack.
Each step is a memory, a brief history left behind. But when snow falls fast and heavy, the hand that paints also erases. History is erased in an instant, as if it had never existed. What was once a story, literally becomes a blank canvas, wiped clean by winter’s steady hand.
The Wind
An invisible force shaping the snow, carving patterns and guiding the scene.
Here's also what most people don't think about: snow also reveals something invisible: the wind. Normally unseen, wind becomes a painter when snow falls, carving patterns across rooftops, sculpting drifts along fences, and pushing waves of powder across empty streets.
Snow is more than just frozen water. At the same time it is an archivist, it's an eraser, preserving moments while simultaneously wiping them away with each new flake. To some, it’s just weather. To others, it’s poetry. To me, it’s the perfect time to take photos.
The Call
The irresistible urge to step outside, leaving comfort behind for the unknown.
When I saw the notification that it was pouring outside, I couldn’t hold back. I had to go. Most people prefer staying inside, watching TV shows, staying warm. But something inside me wouldn’t let that happen. I grabbed the jacket, umbrella, gloves, camera, flash, and the 50mm Summicron, then I loaded my favorite film stock: the CineStill 800T.
My excitement to quickly leave was so high, that I forgot to bring my photo bag containing some care equipments, like wipes, air blower, and of course, extra film. If we want to do decent snow photos in a city, we have to be quick when snow starts, as if too much time passes, bulldozers wipe it out, human footsteps start taking presence, and all the noir magic is bluntly replaced by the city's neccesities, who quickly catch up with mother nature's paintbrush.
I didn't bring my bag.
With no bag, I had something in mind: go out, spend some time walking, exploring the city, getting cool halation effects, and come back home. Being a tungsten-based film, the CineStill reveals cold colors, which is ideal for what I wanted to convey, as it projects the actual cold on the photos.
The Journey
Battling the elements, navigating the city, and chasing the perfect shot.
My destination was clear: Basile’s Pizza. I knew that spot would give me the #1 absolute shot of the roll, I had took so many photos of it, and I was sure I would find the best scene my city can provide. So that’s where my footsteps were recording traces to. As I started walking, the wind came. I was holding the umbrella with one hand and the camera with the other, and I was clumsy. The situation started demanding actual physical strength to deal with. As I was fatigued from the cold, the wind caught my umbrella and almost sent it flying.
I decided bringing a flash just for fun. For each click on the shutter, a bolt illuminated the scene, and I could see the reflex of many white particles, more than usual, enough to cause discomfort from my viewfinder, my maximum f-stop was 2.0, and the scene was very dark.
Film doesn't give me the luxury of checking the result right after the shot, so I thought: either these pictures will be awesome, or complete garbage. And you know what? I don't care. What matters is the adventure and the story.
I was as much over exposed as the photos I took with the flash. At that moment, I was just dealing with the mystery, caught in a high-risk, high-reward situation.
The subtle dread of water damage crept into my mind, but I pressed on. I set my shutter speed to 1/125 sec, turned on my flash, set the f-stop to 8, and started zone focusing. As I only had one hand free, I had the idea of setting my focus to a fixed distance (let's say 10 meters) and be the focus myself: walking toward and backward from my subjects to adjust focus that way.
All I was seeing was darkness, wind, snow, and not so much interesting topics, so I diverted route to another street, which I finally found a snow oasis. A little condo, highly illuminated, I could turn off the flash and just be myself on tighter f-stop at night. I wasted no time. Waited for someone to get in, and tailgated.
Looks like the high-risk/high-reward situation was starting to weight towards the reward side.
I was so excited, that I broke free from the umbrella, and overexposed my equipment to snow even more, so when I left the scene, the real struggle began. Snowflakes started accruing and melting on my camera body, seeping into every gap, every button. My Voigtlander is not weather sealed like these high-end modern digital cameras. It was in some sort of danger, but I stayed strong.
Remember when I told you about the bag, which I forgot? It would be instrumental in this situation.
Every click of the shutter was a mix of excitement and fear. My camera was wet now. Drops pooled near the dials, moisture fogged up my lens. My gloves were damp, my fingers stiff from the cold. But the light, the snow, the moment, and Basile's Pizza were waiting for me.
So many "ifs" passed through my mind! What if moisture gets in the film and it gets stuck? What if the shutter's lubricant gets stuck and everything messes up? At some point, I was photographing without any visual aid, as the viewfinder was completely foggy, the lens was kinda wet, and my fingers almost frozen.
Basile's Shelter
A moment of refuge in the storm, where warmth and survival instincts take over.
I then saw Basile’s Pizza from across the screet. The warmth hit me instantly, light inside, the sound of laughter, the sight of people enjoying their night, oblivious to the storm outside. And me? I wasn’t thinking about food, or warmth, or comfort. As soon as I got in, all I saw was the stack of napkins by the counter. I rushed over, grabbed as many as I could, and started drying my camera like a man desperate to save something precious.
After taking some shelter and regulating body temperature, I saw a CVS Pharmacy on the other side of the street, where I took refuge to buy some hand warmers. I also had the idea of getting a pair of socks to have some sort of cloth to dry the lens, as the napkins could end up scratching the frontal element of the new Leica Summicron lens, that would be a pricey mistake.
When I left the pharmacy, I had an idea: What if I put the umbrella inside my jacket? That way I have my both hands free, and I can raise the camera inside the umbrella to protect it. I felt like I developed an urgent on-the-fly experience driven by the situation.
Success.
The Return
Heading home with stories, frozen fingers, and a smile from the thrill of captured moments.
I think my mission was accomplished. I took some cool photos, hang around with some cool people at Basile's Pizza, and it was time to come back. The "umbrella inside jacket" trick was awesome, it was like using wireless headphones, or wearing prescription glasses for the first time in life.
The comfort inside stores and cookie shops are so different, that it visually shouts, as the glass become foggy. This is another characteristic of the snow. It highlights the differences.
Maybe the most striking thing about snow is how it changes the way we see the world. A street we know well, now covered in white, feels unfamiliar, like something from a dream. Buildings seem softer, quieter. Sounds disappear, as if the world is holding its breath. Snow makes the ordinary look new, makes us notice things differently, if only for a short while. But it also reminds us that nothing lasts forever, what we see now will soon be gone. What today was in plain sight, tomorrow may be covered by snow.
Here’s Basile’s Pizza during a normal night, and how it was yesterday during the snowfall. That’s what I am talking about. I tried to keep the same angle.
Which one do you prefer? Join the chat! Let me know what you are thinking about so far!
I hurried to capture these moments because, in just a few hours, I know the beauty would be gone. In a few hours, what is going to be left behind are muddy footprints, water stains, and piles of dirty ice in shady corners. Snow doesn’t just fall; it rewrites, it hides, it changes. The stories it tells last as long as the cold allows, before human interception takes place.
The Aftermath
Reflecting on the experience, preserving the memories, and preparing for the next snowfall. It's all about love for photography.
I made it home with my camera intact, developed two rolls of film, carefully dried and maintained my gear, and now, as my film dries in the bathroom, I’m here writing this for you.
And guess what? There's more snow expected tomorrow. But the first is always the best one! For today, I can consider a Photographer's Victory. I like gifting things when I am happy, and I hope you took this post as a gift from me to you! Thank you for reading and supporting my work here!
It was worthy it. Absolutely! Would I do it again? Of course. And quickly, before the snow melts. This whole situaton made me think that my love for photography is, indeed, something that I should be proud of in my life. It demonstrates persistence and passion. When paired with storytelling and writing, it's a trifecta that makes any person better, in my opinion.
I am feeling determined and inspired to take film photos and create stories for you, as much as mother nature's energy to employ snow to paint and erase entire real-life scenarios.
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