The Metro, for me, seems to be a favorite muse. I travel frequently on the D.C. Metro, a 45-minute ride that takes me from the close-in suburbs of Maryland, through downtown D.C., and a couple of stops across the Potomac into Virginia. It’s not a bad stretch for thinking or people-watching — I only have to switch trains once.
There’s something about all these people, each sealed in their own world yet sharing the same temporary space for a few stops. The underground stations — with their cavernous arches and soft hum — have a cathedral-like stillness when you pause to look.
And if you do look, there are moments everywhere:
- The young couple locked into each other, oblivious to everything around them.
- The child peering over the back of a seat, smiling at a stranger.
- The commuter whispering to themselves, eyes darting nervously — surviving the crowd in their own way.
- The business man in a sharp suit but shoes worn thin from repetition — proof this ride is part of the daily grind.
- The mom who spots something “worth a photo” and starts directing me, the photographer — much to the visible horror of her teenage daughter.
I love taking a camera along. Yesterday it was my old Nikon D700 — almost twenty years old — paired with a 50-year-old Nikkor manual 50mm f/1.4 lens. The camera’s an absolute brick, but the combo is perfect for these dim, early commutes — especially in black and white.
Here are a few frames from yesterday’s ride.
