It's likely no surprise to Richmondfolk that I'd consider the view from the Belle Isle Pedestrian Bridge the best in all of the city (aside from the rooftop of the John Marshall Hotel... or so I've been told). If you live in RVA, you've seen the skyline from the bridge countless times- maybe even with a PBR in your hand or a few stashed in your backpack on your way to the river. Until I directed a kayak shoot at both sunrise and sunset in August of last year, said view had somewhat lost its splendor for me. It had become the for-the-millionth-time perspective and the same photograph everyone's taken.
I wonder if the residents of San Francisco or New Yorkers feel this same way about the Golden Gate Bridge and the Statue of Liberty.
I wonder if the residents of San Francisco or New Yorkers feel this same way about the Golden Gate Bridge and the Statue of Liberty.
I'm also no stranger to watching the sun rise from Belle Isle. There's a history of nights spent exploring and roasting marshmallows over a fire inside the abandoned factory on the south side. It's a wild experience to be in the middle of the city and feel so secluded and utterly lost in nature. We danced and drank and scrambled the rocks, and when the sun rose over the skyline we realized we were once again civilized and back on Earth. Sadly, appreciation had been lost to repetition.
But it was on that August morning somewhere between two-way radio commands and the buzzing of a Podracer-esque drone that I recalled how amazing this view had been the first time I crossed the pedestrian bridge in 2005: With the bold silhouette of the skyline doubling itself in the James, I was overcome by the early summer scene as an epic convergence and clash between nature and man. And just then, remembering my experience from ten years earlier, the sun peeked between two buildings and winked at me. She winked at me! And I flushed.
But it was on that August morning somewhere between two-way radio commands and the buzzing of a Podracer-esque drone that I recalled how amazing this view had been the first time I crossed the pedestrian bridge in 2005: With the bold silhouette of the skyline doubling itself in the James, I was overcome by the early summer scene as an epic convergence and clash between nature and man. And just then, remembering my experience from ten years earlier, the sun peeked between two buildings and winked at me. She winked at me! And I flushed.
I can't say that was a life-changing moment or day. But I can say that I found a renewed appreciation on that pedestrian bridge. A little more appreciation everyday. That's the goal.