A pair of shots taken during a very early morning layover in Shanghai, China.
It was in February of 2011 that I left the steamy Cambodian jungle to return to the biting bitter winds of winter. The layover, which was originally only supposed to be a few hours, ended being much longer due to Yellow Dust storms. It was shortly before sunrise when I was begrudgingly forced to rise. I drifted through the chilly pastel light of dawn and gathered my bags as I dragged myself toward my flight. I’m not a morning person by any means and was even less so after being in transit for over 24 hours. I struggled to stay awake while I waited to board, and decided to putter around the almost empty airport and take some shots. I didn’t really get anything that embodied the feeling of being in an enormous international airport with no one around, deserted and desolate. I did however like these two shots, the first one of [not] my plane and the second of the stoic old man. Through the horizontal lines frosted into the, not quite soundproof but close enough, glass I peered into the blackness made all the more dark by this one illuminated aircraft. I felt empathetic to the poor workers in the cold dark pre-dawn morning, angry at their obligation to remain awake while the rest of the world sleeps. When we finally boarded, I was relieved to see that the replacement flight the airline had given us was mostly empty. I stretched out on my unoccupied row of seats, and had not realized I was asleep until the plane rose above the clouds and a brilliant ray of sun shot through the east window. I awoke and was suddenly dazzled by the abrupt brightness and after I regained my composure (vision) I was presented with the scene of an old man, aged and stoic bravely confronting the rising day and whatever it might bring us. Camera still in my lap, I snapped a few pictures, and before the flight attendant could ask him to pull his shade closed, I was again asleep.
Camera: Nikon D3100, 18-55mm