I recall that Byron Baldwin gave my class a piece of good advice. He told us that sometimes we should simply walk out the front door with our camera, and see where it leads us. Sometimes the most simple advice can be the best.
When the moon is out and there is snow on the ground, I find it hard to do anything besides take that advice.
Of course it takes time for family members to adapt to this sort of behavior, but in they accept "I don't know" as a reasonable answer to "where are you going?" and "when will you be back?"
It might sound crazy at first, but I think the results speak to how effective this approach is. The world's play will go on whether we are present or not, and I like to have a front row seat.
Photographing at night just seems to make pictures more compelling.
The colors are more vibrant, lights zoom through the space with palpable energy, and the world becomes something new.
A new stage, with an act that most people are sheltered from. An act that plays out while they hide in the warmth and protection of their homes.
When the world is blanketed in snow, and the moon shines down on it all, it becomes an even rarer scene. A scene that I feel obligated to appreciate.