Lately, I’ve found myself revisiting my old Lightroom library from pre-pandemic times, digging through countless images I had imported over the years but never took the time to open, let alone edit. It feels like discovering a time capsule of forgotten moments, each frame carrying a slice of a day I barely remember.
One photo stood out to me. I remembered that captured it just as a Korean girl unexpectedly stepped into the frame. She struck a spontaneous pose, right fist raised mid-jump, facing the Manila Bay sunset. The timing was uncanny, almost cinematic. She wasn’t part of the plan, but somehow she became the perfect subject against the glowing horizon.
Looking back, this was during a phase when I was completely immersed in creating motion timelapses. I would spend hours setting up my gear, obsessing over movement and light transitions, always chasing the perfect sequence. The girl in the main photo wasn’t part of the timelapse, yet it became one of those accidental gems that only reveal their worth years later.
