Night Rain, Silver Light

Rain drops are my favorite subject, so when the clouds finally let loose last night, I grabbed my camera and headed for the garden. I waited for the shower to ease, then started hunting for those tiny worlds that only appear after the rain, droplets holding their shape on glossy leaves like glass beads.

This set is in black and white for a reason. Color can be pretty, but it also gets in the way, in monochrome the droplets turn sculptural. Edges glow, shadows deepen, and the simple curve of a leaf becomes a stage for light. To push that look further, I introduced a high-intensity light. It acts like a small sun, carving a crisp rim around the droplets and pulling micro-textures from the leaf’s surface. The brighter highlights and lowered black point give the images that deep, dramatic contrast I love.

I kept my usual four-frame “window” layout to tell a quiet progression, a leaf catching the first glints, a cluster of beads stacked like pearls, a sweep of tiny droplets scattered like stars, and finally a wider scene where light, shadow, and overlap do the talking. Standing there, I watched how a breeze could send the whole picture sliding toward the edge, one moment away from disappearing. That’s why I shoot fast, while the garden is still.

Raindrops always feel like a reminder to pay attention. They’re temporary, delicate, and perfect for a few minutes. If I can catch that fleeting shine in-camera, it feels more honest than anything I could fake in software.