Loosies

Orphan frames from the Virginia waterfront, where fog, flowers, and camouflaged moths all practice the art of disappearing.

Belmont Bay, Woodbridge, Virginia, United States / 35mm color negative (stock unidentified) / Loosies — Belmont Bay Loosies collection, 35mm film archive

Every roll leaves a few frames that belong to nothing but each other. These came off the waterfront at Belmont Bay in Woodbridge, Virginia, shot on 35mm color negative, and what unites them is a shared talent for vanishing. The first frame opens on cherry blossoms so hazed they read like a memory of blossoms — pink clusters ringing a soft window of blue sky, the whole scene bleeding light at its edges.

Then the haze wins outright. A white motor yacht sits at the bottom corner of a tall gray frame, riding water that has merged completely with the air above it. Nine-tenths of the picture is fog, and the boat looks less anchored than abandoned mid-sentence, a bright hull about to be argued out of existence.

The roll ends at ground level, where the disappearing act gets professional. A moth with mottled gray-brown wings presses itself flat against a concrete paver, nearly indistinguishable from the aggregate. In the last frame there are two of them, holding still on either side of a crossing of expansion joints — small dark deltas parked on the grid, hiding in plain sight and mostly succeeding.

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Related

Virginia / Belmont Bay / United States / Uniforms

Images

Soft-focus pink cherry blossoms and green leaves surround a hazy patch of blue sky.
Blossoms as weather: pink crowding in from every edge until the sky is just a rumor between petals.
A small white motor yacht floats at the bottom right of a tall frame otherwise filled with gray fog.
The fog takes almost everything; the boat holds the last corner of the picture like a signature.
A moth with mottled gray-brown wings rests on a speckled concrete paver near a seam in the pavement.
A moth doing its best impression of concrete, and the concrete nearly returning the compliment.
Two moths rest on gray concrete pavers near the intersection of two pavement joints.
Two of them now, parked on the grid where the joints cross — still as ornaments, patient as stone.