The fermenting crowd was making it difficult to focus on just one individual, colours of all sizes merging into one compact hoard. In all that rainbow mush, a white ball of fluffy-dog-madness caught my eye, but my attention soon switched to the little girl standing numbly next to it.
I rushed to the viewfinder to take one shot before the door hid her away completely. Quickly zoomed in and framed the photo, just as her brother was turning away, his t-shirt granting me the dusty background to match her pixie eyes and cover the souvenir clutter. The light was perfect and her colours were magic. I usually take a few extra shots because I feel I could do it differently; this time, one was all I needed, anything extra would have lessened its relevance. It all happened so fast it overwhelmed me. I immediately left the scene, with an almost guilty feeling of having stolen something.
This here is the reason I take photos, that moment in which the Photography Gods put everything in order to create one frame for you to find. And the best part is chasing that fleeting frame.
