Taking-Off

This is a test for the Viltrox AF 56/1,4 XF’s autofocus. The pidgeon took-off suddenly and I just had to point and shoot. The lens behave fairly.

I didn’t plan this shot—I reacted. The pigeon launched off the cobbles just ahead of me, wings outstretched, backlit by the fragmented morning light reflecting off the street. I tracked it instinctively and pressed the shutter a fraction before it left the frame. For a moment, everything aligned: subject, motion, light, and a surprising stillness in the middle of movement.

The composition isn’t textbook. The bird isn’t centred—more like hovering toward the bottom third, wings drawing a wide V across the soft texture of the cobbled road. But that’s what gives it weight. It’s not a portrait of the pigeon. It’s a study in departure. The kind of image where the subject’s already leaving the scene before you’ve understood what’s happening.

Technically, it’s imperfect—shallow depth of field gave me the bird but cost me the foreground sharpness. The cobbles blur into a painterly wash, with patches of reflected light creating unintended but oddly pleasing abstractions. The bokeh is messy. The autofocus barely kept up. But it doesn’t matter. The feeling is intact: sudden lift, silent breakaway, that fraction of a second when the ordinary becomes airborne.

Photography isn’t always about preparation. Sometimes it’s just about not flinching.