THE AMBER CHEVRON

One curve sign on a county road, one moonless night, truck lights for a sun. Four frames.

I've driven this curve a million times on 285, always on my way to some other shot, always thinking it would make a cool picture someday. Then one night the light sucked everywhere, I pulled over, sitting on that curve, staring at those sign flashing in the hazards. It hit me: I didn't need better light, I needed to make my own. Headlights off, truck parked at an angle, nothing but the amber lights burning on a moonless night….No light, just a faint glow way on the horizon. The color in these frames isn’t a filter; it's exactly what the road looked like standing there. A winding strip of Texas Panhandle, four frames from one hour on the shoulder."