Quiet Frames #1 A Walk Through White Noise
The day the snow made everything briefly honest.
There are days when the world feels too sharp, too fast, too loud.
And then there are days like this, when snow falls so heavily the whole town slows without being asked.
I stepped out mostly to clear my head.
Photography wasn’t about being good; it was something to hold onto while I walked through the cold.
A simple task so the noise could sit in the background for a while.
The snow came down in thick, soft sheets, the kind you see on Christmas cards and assume are staged.
Except this was just Cheltenham deciding to be gentle.
People moved through the park as if they’d forgotten their usual scripts.
A man with his hood up.
A group laughing at the cold.
Someone brushing snow from a bench as though they meant to sit there anyway.
Nothing spectacular, just a day being honest.
What I like about this photo isn’t the technique.
It’s a bit grey, a bit soft, a bit messy around the edges.
But that’s how it was on that Thursday afternoon, footsteps, laughter, breath turning to fog.
My hands were freezing as I lifted the camera.
Photography does that for me.
Even when the picture isn’t perfect, the moment is.
A still image, yes.
But everything in it is moving in my mind.
About the author
Based in the U.K. Rowan Broadley writes about quiet systems, everyday behaviour, and the work of running a charity shop.