Photoessay: Morning Walk Reflections

yzhensiang
Sep 9
2 min read

Some time ago, I started a small series called “what a morning”—a casual attempt to piece together image that I got from my morning walks. It was never about creating a grand statements or carefully staged frames. Just me, my camera, and a curation of moments caught in the morning that others might pass by and miss. Lately, I felt the urge to bring it back. Maybe it’s nostalgia, maybe it’s the reminder that a morning walk is still the simplest way to reconnect with both the city and myself when I feel lost.

I have been a long time believer that a morning walk is never just a walk. It’s a quiet stage where random fragments of life come together, while I casually witness the city awakens with my camera. Some people call this street photography, some call it documentary work, but to me it’s simply noticing what’s in front of me and questioning it in my own way. That’s what this photoessay is about—continuing my series from a simple morning walk.

The first image I stumbled upon: Modern Lifestyle. An uncle sitting lazily on a chair, eyes glued to his phone. Nothing dramatic, but isn’t that the reality of most of us? Starting the day by staring at a screen has become as natural as breathing.

Then comes Old Texture. An old car’s back, paint faded and worn, sitting against an equally tired wall. Beige on beige, memory on memory. It almost feels like the car and wall are in silent agreement, decaying together gracefully.

Nature still win reminds me that no matter how much we try to build, adjust, or control, nature always finds its way. The tree doesn’t care about the lamp post, the wires, or the carefully measured rooftops—it just grows.

Image of a tree thriving in urban setting — Nature Still Win

I couldn’t ignore An interesting conversation, two aunties standing in deep chat. They reappear in the next frame, Still ongoing, but this time I stepped back, framing them with grass in the foreground and a blurred trunk as if to say: conversations like these are timeless, flowing on with or without an audience.

A larger frame of a continued conversation — Still Ongoing

Then, Who are truly free? is the question I couldn’t stop asking. A tourist, some locals, a person in a wheelchair, and a bird flying above—against the backdrop of a mosque. Freedom is never equal, never shared in the same way, and maybe that’s why it fascinates me.

A tourist, some locals, a person in a wheelchair, and a bird flying above against the backdrop of a mosque. — Who are truly free?

Finally, Whatever that’s left. A floating fish head in a plastic basket among dried leaves, bobbing in sea water. Oddly poetic, oddly tragic. A reminder that life continues, but not always in the ways we like.

This morning walk gave me more than exercise—it gave me fragments of truth, wrapped in irony and quiet beauty. I can’t help but wonder: when you walk through your own mornings, what do you really notice?