Mother Nature has deemed that sunsets are complimentary. But not if you view them from the Marina Bay Sands Hotel in Singapore. Arguably the perfect place to see how far this former swamp has developed in just a few decades. The hotel provides non-guests the chance to admire sweeping views of Singapore from its rooftop viewing deck. For a tidy little sum. Come sunset time, people head to the top to watch the sky turn fifty shades of pink, blue or whatever mood it is in. I was also one of the non-guests all ready to capture some sunset shots. Wide angle lens. Check. Camera batteries. Check. Brand new tripod to capture some long exposures. Check. I also grabbed a vantage position by gently inserting myself between two cooing lovebirds with a fierce my-need-to-photograph-this-moment-is-more-important-than-your-need-to-play-tonsil-hockey attitude. Travis Bickle meets Rocky Balboa kinda combo. With a sprinkling of Tony Jaa.
I was aiming for that particular moment when the lights come on and the sky is still blushing a deep red. The thing about sunsets are that they are mostly on schedule. And the thing about Murphy’s Law is that there’s no escaping it. After clicking a few shots before the sun started its descent, I proceeded to mount the camera on the tripod. I failed miserably. It was a simple enough task. But hey, it’s Murphy.
On one hand the sun was going down as if there’s no tomorrow, and here I was fumbling with the tripod. I could distinctly hear the temporarily separated couple snigger and then guffaw loudly. I sort of tried to imagine that they were laughing at the antics of their cute unborn spawn. And not at me. Who was I kidding. It was mortifying. Yes, the tripod was a new piece of gear. But even then. I thought about embracing the moment. Soak in the sunset, think of life and how the decision to not read the tripod manual had led to this moment. Who reads a tripod manual anyway? Or, for that matter, any manual. I sucked in a mighty breath. Time to take matters in my own hands. Literally. I steadied myself against a glass pane, grabbed the camera, poked it through a narrow opening and started shooting hand-held long exposures. Most of them came out blurred. But a few turned out all right. It’s a good thing that I don’t smoke. And yes, where there’s a will, there’s a shot. Even if Murphy is breathing down your neck