This is Ben at some tender age. All the books tell me to get closer, get closer. Fill the frame. But if I filled the frame I'd miss the wonderful negative space of the black dog. I'd miss the diaphanous ambiguity of the railings disintegrating into nothingness and the giant drops peppering the frame with motion. And it wouldn't add to the feeling of a child's tentative exploration of big rain.
Sometimes we take images for the memories we think they'll evoke. But mostly we take them to try and freeze the bittersweet rush through life.
I don't know which camera or lens I had in my hands other than it was a 35mm film camera. The lens must have had a fast aperture and the shot was on Kodachrome 64 slide film. It didn't matter. It hardly ever matters.