You get that one moment. That’s it. You either get the shot or you don’t. And let’s face it, most often, you don’t. And in some types of photography, there’s no second chance. I love that. I hate that.

Yesterday was a cold, bright, sunny day. A good day for a guy with a fine little street camera to take a walk through the city. As I was walking along I saw this dark gash of an alleyway running between a building and a parking garage. I have a thing for alleys, so I decided to wander down it. But it was on the other side of the street; I had to wait for traffic to clear before I could jaywalk to the alley.

As I stood there I saw an obscure shape moving in the alley. A guy. A guy with a red hat. And I knew there might be a photograph to be made.

This is what I love: sometimes you can anticipate that moment. You can see the shot developing. You can visualize all the elements potentially moving into place. Potentially, that’s the key. It’s all about the potential, because any number of things can happen to totally fuck up the situation. A cloud might obscure the light. A car might pass in front of you at the critical moment. A passerby could throw off the balance of the composition.

I saw the guy with the red hat. A moment earlier I’d noticed a doorway with a red logo at about head level. I figured there was a good chance the guy was going to walk out of the dark alley and into the light. So I hurried to my right so I could include both the red hat and the red logo — and the moment I began moving I also began to kick myself in the ass. I was thinking “Idiot, you should have closed in on the alley and caught the guy stepping into the sunlight.” But it was too late to change my mind. I’d committed myself to a wide shot.

Sometimes the shot never comes together. You know that going in, of course. Sometimes all those elements you saw moving together simply move away from each other. The guy could turn around and go back down the alley. He could step out of the alley, but remove his red hat. Somebody could could open the door with red logo. So many things could go wrong.

But they didn’t. Things not only didn’t go wrong, they actually got better The guy stepped out of the alley and into the sunlight, just like I’d hoped he would. His red hat was almost perfectly in line with the red logo on the door, just as I’d hope it would. And then a little black and white dog followed him out.

So I took the shot.

It was the shot I wanted. It was almost exactly as I’d envisioned it. But it doesn’t really work. Not at this scale.

The guy gets lost, the red hat gets lost, the red logo gets lost, even the little dog gets lost. I think the photo might work if it was printed very, very large — but dammit, it doesn’t work at this scale. It just doesn’t.

Even when all the elements do come together — even when it all coheres perfectly and organically, as if it was predestined — even when you get the shot you want, it might not actually be the shot you want.

It gets worse. I got the shot I wanted. I knew it as soon as I released the shutter. I’d no idea it wouldn’t turn out, of course, but at that moment I knew I’d got the shot. I felt satisfied and full of myself. For maybe half a second. Even as I was lowering the camera, I saw the guy hold something out in his hand. The little dog leaped up to get it. And I missed it.

Photography is a brutal bastard. And I must be masochistic, because I’m okay with that.

It was a cold, cloudy, wet, grey, miserable sort of afternoon and I was downtown with a couple of hours to piss away on nothing in particular. In other words, a perfect time to go larking about in alleys. Alleys are best photographed in rotten weather because there are fewer people working in them. I actually like the people who work in alleys, but they tend to be camera-shy. And suspicious. It’s just easier to do alley work in foul weather.

So I slipped the little X10 in my pocket and headed out to find a nice juicy alley. First, though, I thought I’d make a little detour to visit to the river.

courthouse across the river

I’m of the opinion that you can never go very wrong making a detour to visit the river. Any river. That said, I have to admit there are certain aspects of a river that make you better appreciate a good alley. Like the absence of walls and buildings to block the wind. Let’s face it, rivers suck at wind-blocking.

On the other hand, the absence of all those walls and buildings gives rivers the great advantage of meteorological drama. With rivers you get all that accompanying sky. And you get it twice — once overhead and once in reflection.

there are always pigeons along the river

There really wasn’t anything particularly interesting going on at the river. There was the usual flock of pigeons morris-dancing around in the sky. Despite the cold and wet, there were a few intrepid bicyclists and runners tooling up and down the riverwalk and bike path. There were a couple of really bitchy Canada Geese fussing at each other.

It took me a while to figure out why it was so quiet. The construction that’s been taking place along the riverwalk for the last couple of years is largely finished. There were no generators coughing away, no backhoes, no bucket trucks or forklifts, no men with jackhammers. The riverwalk was…quiet.

riverwalk intersection

For years the Des Moines city planners have been making a considerable effort to draw people back into the downtown area. It’s not just that developers have been building loft apartments and faux brownstones — the city has been adding a lot of public art and other quality of life amenities. There’s a new dog park, there’s a skating rink, there are bike trails and pedestrian bridges, there’s a botanical center and a science center and a historical building — all near the river.

Construction has just been completed on a small, two-level riverwalk pavilion. When it opens, it’ll include public restrooms (and trust me, that’s important in a city) and a small cafe or coffee shop.

And in front of the pavilion: five dango.

the dango of jun kaneko

The dango are large ceramic sculptures by Japanese artist Jun Kaneko. A dango is a sort of Japanese steamed dumpling. These don’t look anything like dumplings, but I think there is something dumplingish about them. They’re not bland like dumplings, but they’re simple and strangely comforting. These are happy-making works of art.

There’s something very sweet and childlike about the dango. They were only installed a few weeks ago, but they seem to fit right in along the river. Seeing them, touching them, watching other folks look at them with a sort of bemused confusion — it makes me ridiculously happy.

Still, I hadn’t set out to look at the dango; I’d set out to wander idly through alleys. So I didn’t stay.

the court avenue bridge

But before I ventured forth alleyward, I decided to check out the other structure that’s been under construction along the riverwalk.

Rivers flood. All of them, they all flood. If you look at the large version of the photo below (or almost any photo of the riverwalk) you’ll see several lines of flood levels. What you can’t see are the tree-trunk-sized logs jammed up in the infrastructure beneath those bridges. When the Des Moines River has once-in-a-century floods (which we seem to have every five years or so now, thanks to climate change and the short-term planning of the old Army Corps of Engineers), it really floods. It’s not uncommon for those balustrades to be under water.

police department

I’m mentioning that because the other structure that’s been under construction is a storm pump station. It’s designed to keep those pesky once-in-a-century flood waters under control. Both the pump station and the new pavilion have exceedingly cool flood doors that can be closed during high water. They look a lot like the doors you see protecting the island lairs of James Bond villains.

I spent an absurd amount of time looking at those doors. I don’t really want to see the river flood, but at the same time I can’t wait until the river floods.

flood pump station

I was just getting ready to head out and find a friendly alley when my cell phone chirped. I discovered I’d spent about two hours walking a grand total of about three and a half blocks. I had to hurry to meet my friend, so I took a shortcut through an alley.

I did manage to shoot a photo in the alley. But it was blurry.