Odaiba is far from where I live, but the journey is always worth it. The views of Rainbow Bridge and Tokyo Tower from its shoreline are legendary—they are the city’s power couple, especially when lit up at night.
One evening, I arrived at about 4 pm, roughly thirty minutes before sunset. The conditions were electric: clouds were moving fast, the sun was sinking, and I had my LEE 15-stop neutral density filter ready. My goal was to capture some dramatic long exposures—a technique that uses slow shutter speeds to blur motion. (If you’re new to this, my [beginner’s guide to long-exposure photography] covers all the fundamentals.)
I did manage to get the shots. After processing them, I chose this one. It best captured the feeling of that evening: racing clouds looked like they were over Rainbow Bridge.
But looking at it now, years later, that initial satisfaction has been replaced by a nagging sense of doubt. The image feels… incomplete. Why? As I’ve deconstructed it, I’ve realized my growth as a photographer is what makes me question this old favorite.
I captured this deep in the blue hour, which created a cool, moody atmosphere. But what if I had arrived just 20 minutes earlier? A touch more sunlight kissing the horizon could have introduced a warm-cool contrast, adding emotional depth to the scene.
My focus was entirely on the racing clouds. But what about the cityscape to the left? It feels like an afterthought. Today, I would likely use a tighter focal length to isolate the bridge and tower. That would create a cleaner, more impactful composition that eliminates distractions.
Back then, my editing was simple. Now, I see missed opportunities. I could have dodged the bridge’s support cables to make them pop, or added a graduated filter to the sky to balance the light. The potential is there, waiting for a fresh eye.
This feeling isn’t unique to this photograph. It’s the beautiful, frustrating cycle of being a creative. The skills and vision you have today will inevitably cast a critical eye on the work you created yesterday.
That doubt isn’t a sign of failure. It’s a sign you’re still learning, still pushing, and still growing. It’s proof that the battle isn’t just with light and composition, but with our own evolving standards. And maybe that’s the most important part of the journey.
Filter: LEE 15-stop neutral density
Rohan has photographed Tokyo since 2011. He shoots it with his Canon EOS R5. The project will take more than one lifetime to complete.