Instead, as soon as I reached the Ontario side of the river, as soon as I took the exit for Dalhousie and Sussex, I decided to pull over, grab the two old cameras that accompany me and my smartphone, and walk back, along the Macdonald-Cartier Bridge, to the point where I thought I shouldn't continue home without a means of working from there.
The first photo was shot with my Canon pocket camera. The snow hadn't yet mixed with ice but with the strong wind, the flakes pelted my bare face. Three shots, and then the camera went back into it's case and into my pocket.
I wouldn't want to drop it, see it slip off the walkway and onto the frozen Rideau, below.
Next, came the Ricoh. Manual focus, manual aperture and shutter speed. I set the speed to 1/60 of a second and the meter told me that an aperture of f/8 was required. I overexposed, a little, dialing the lens opening to f/5.6.
I didn't want grey snow.
One shot. That was it.
With the Ricoh safely tucked in it's case, I slung the thin, plastic strap around my neck, and reached for one more device.
The snow was coming down in greater density, blocking out nearly all of Parliament Hill. The rest of my drive was going to be a challenge if others had the same idea and left work early. Already, it was nearing 3:30.
Three more shots with my smartphone. I zoomed in on Nepean Point and the back end of the National Gallery, to the Parliament buildings, hoping that the lens would see through the squall. My eyes, squinting to avoid being blinded by the pesky flakes, determined that whatever I had captured, it would have to be enough.
Phone in breast pocket, gloves back on, I made my way back to Dalhousie Street and my car, which was already covered in a light dusting of snow.
I'm not turning around, I convinced myself. I started my car just as Ian Black was announcing the coming storm and the freezing rain that would follow.
My computer remained on my desk, at the office. I'm sure it'll be waiting for me.
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