The western entrance to St. George Station.
Matt Feldman PhotographyInspiring you to get out there, in the distance, and see it for yourself.
Matt Feldman Photography
The western entrance to St. George Station.
Queen Street, east of Yonge. A crowded streetcar on a cold Saturday afternoon offers respite from the biting wind.
Heading back into the subway after an early morning shoot. This shot was taken just shortly after my wet plate-style shot of Pont Neuf.
The first bombs fell about 10 pm. Their arrival was no surprise — journalists left the city two days prior. Residents gathered in Cold War-era shelters as the air raid sirens wailed and radio reports warned of the need for gas masks. The state-run television station blinked out. Explosions erupted around the city and the lights went black.
Death was imminent. I was sure of it. It was so humid that the word “air” could be used only sparingly. And it was so hot that there may as well have been an onion on my head and a tomato in my mouth: I was being roasted alive. The thermometer pegged the temperature at 72oC (162oF).