I used to walk across the Longfellow Bridge between Boston and Cambridge to and from work. Every time, I'd pause to look out over the water, and the view would draw a happy little sigh from me and the thought: wow, it's beautiful.
In January 2026, I decided to start this photography project.
I stayed late at the office, so most of my crossings home were after dark, when the skyline was lit up and the bridge was empty. I preferred it that way. Mornings, the sun washed everything out, and I had to share the view with more people.
I didn't want to lug around a professional camera, so all the photos were taken with my iPhone 15 Pro, focal length 28mm, and other settings on automatic. In the earlier days, I hadn't established a consistent spot to stand at or a consistent camera angle, which is why the first photos contain white padding on some sides. Within a month, I had nailed down the position.
Over time, I realized this collection was becoming a study of how the river reflected light. In winter, the icy surface changed textures with each thaw and freeze, and the reflections changed with it, though sometimes fresh snow blanketed it all. Then came the slush, black as tar and swallowing the city's lights, unlike anything I'd seen on a river before. Starting in spring, the water took its color from the sky: on clear nights the entire scene was a vivid blue, and on overcast nights a muted yellow-brown. On windy nights, the ripples scattered the lights into dabs of color, like an Impressionist painting; on still nights, the river was a mirror.
By summer, I was leaving work a little earlier and the sun setting later, so my walks home were often in the light. It turned out well for the project: all clear summer nights were alike, but every dusk was colorful in its own way. And I was happy to capture life on the river.
I took photos on 122 crossings in total, spanning 7 months. This gallery presents 60 of them. I omitted some variations in weather and lighting conditions and intentionally kept other near-duplicates. Ordinary repetition was as much a part of those days as the dramatic changes.
In late July, I moved apartments and stopped walking across the bridge.