But these shots take a lot of planning. They often start with using apps like PhotoPills or Planit Pro to see where the sun, moon or Milky Way will be relative to a foreground subject when standing at a certain location. You often have to scout the location in advance to make sure there is a view. The timing has to be just right. The skies have to be clear. You have to travel to an exact location. A lot of things have to line up exactly right to get the shot. And you are really just looking for one shot. You can see this on another photograph of mine in this book where the moon is rising behind the two Comcast buildings in Philadelphia. 

This shot had none of the above. And, even better, it was a “two-fer”. 

When I went out to shoot, I had no intention of capturing this photograph. I actually was planning to capture the moon rising behind William Penn atop Philadelphia’s City Hall. The shooting spot was from the shores of the Schuylkill River. I was taking my time focusing on my subject, socializing with some fellow photographers, and hoping the clouds behind City Hall would clear.  

However, as the skies got darker and the water on the river calmer, I looked to my left, and I saw something interesting. The lights illuminating the Philadelphia Art Museum and one of Philadelphia’s famous boathouses were bouncing off the river, creating a beautiful reflection. I quickly took off my telephoto lens aimed at City Hall, popped on my wide-angle lens, and got as low to the water as possible. This photograph was the result of looking at something other than my subject. Getting the shot that was never the plan. 

When I started my photography journey right at the beginning of the pandemic, I was taking all of my photos with just my iPhone. I signed up for an online photography course where I learned some basics of the craft. One was to look for reflections in bodies of water or even puddles. Therefore, it’s always something that I’m searching for as I walk around Philadelphia, especially after a day of rain. 

And I mentioned that it was a “two-fer”. The night I captured this shot, I also got the one I had planned with the moon behind William Penn. There’s something exciting about going out with the intention of getting a shot and coming home with two. It’s rare but when it happens, it can be magical.  

As a FAA licensed Drone Pilot now, Philadelphia marked the starting point of the journey for my drone photography. Back in March 2020, when everyone was trying hard to adjust into the new work-from-home routine, I was also thinking about how to re-plan my time, as most of my travel inventories were canceled. One day in April when I went back to UPenn, I was surprised to see how empty the campus was. I took a picture which led me to wonder how the rest of the city looked like. I was inspired by other people's creative ways of documenting that special period in life, for me, I used a drone and witnessed the quiet Philadelphia downtown from the sky that I never saw before.  

This piece of photography carries lots of meaningful memories of all aspects in my life back then. 

Daniel Moreno

When I travel, I always make it a point to catch the sunrise. Every city is kissed by the sun in its own unique way, depending on the season and time of year. On this cold winter morning in Philadelphia, I went out to feel the city at its quietest, just before the day began.

I had been wanting to capture the William Penn statue atop City Hall at sunrise for a long time. This monument is iconic, and it defines the skyline and embodies Philadelphia. What I find fascinating is how from the ground, it almost seems human-sized. But up close, its massive scale becomes undeniable, towering imposingly over the city as if welcoming a new day.

That morning, the sun broke through the winter fog, wrapping the statue in light and shadow. It created a silhouette of William Penn that felt both calm and powerful, a reflection of a city waking up.

If it’s not clear by now, I really like trains, and not just during the holidays. I enjoy tracking them, waiting for the right moment, and framing them against the backdrop of the city.

Every time I visit Philadelphia, it’s during the winter, and I’ve grown to love wandering the city in that season. There’s something about the cold air and the early nightfall that makes everything more photogenic. I had long wanted to capture a train crossing the Ben Franklin Bridge on its way to New Jersey. It became a game of patience and timing: walking the bridge over and over, waiting for the perfect alignment. That evening, the sky was fading into dusk, the lights had just come on, and the train was taking its time. Just as I was about to give up, it appeared and I managed to get into position just in time for this frame. Afterward, I remember walking home, satisfied with the chase and the capture.