Last night at the Bob Camera Club (yes… the same club that sometimes forgets to invite Bob to speak), something unexpected happened.
Bob won the Foggy City Award.
And the funny thing is… he could barely see what he was photographing.
It started on one of those classic Toronto mornings. The kind where the skyline disappears. The kind where the CN Tower might as well have packed up and gone to Montreal.
Bob grabbed one of his “old but gold” Sony bodies — because fog doesn’t care how new your camera is — and headed downtown.
When he looked up, the towers weren’t towering.
They were fading.
The tops vanished into mist. Glass and steel softened. Harsh lines turned into quiet shapes. The city looked like it was whispering instead of shouting.
The First Shot – Two Ghosts in the Sky
Two dark condo towers rose upward… and then simply dissolved into white.
No dramatic sunset.
No golden hour.
Just grey.
And that’s the beauty.
Bob always says street photography isn’t about perfect light — it’s about honest light. Fog is honest. It hides nothing. It hides everything.
The club judges said the image felt “cinematic” and “mysterious.”
Bob just said, “I pointed the camera up.”
The Glass Tower That Disappeared
One of the shots showed a sleek glass office tower, its top swallowed whole. The lower floors were crisp, structured, geometric. Then halfway up — gone.
It looked like the building was unfinished. Like the city ran out of pixels.
Someone at the club asked what filter Bob used.
He said, “Weather.”
The Layered Skyline
In another frame, three buildings stood together — one sharp, one softer, one barely visible. The fog created depth you couldn’t manufacture in Photoshop.
No over-editing.
No dramatic contrast sliders pushed to 100.
Just quiet tones and patience.
You could almost hear the city breathing.
The Tall One With the Crane
One of the winning images showed a massive skyscraper shot from below, climbing into nothingness, a construction crane stretching beside it like a skeleton arm disappearing into cloud.
It felt like Toronto itself was still being built — even into the sky.
The judges loved that one.
Bob loved that it was cold, damp, and slightly uncomfortable. Because that’s when photos feel real.
Why This Award Matters
The Foggy City Award wasn’t about sharpness.
It wasn’t about expensive gear.
It wasn’t about vibrant colour.
It was about mood.
Bob has photographed Ontario from Ivanhoe Park to Lake Erie, camped along Highway 69, wandered the Ottawa Valley, crossed from the west coast to the east coast of Canada with a tent and a camera. But sometimes the best story is right here — in a downtown that vanishes before your eyes.
His Flickr feed has become a history of moments. Not postcards. Not perfection. Moments.
And last night, the club recognized that.
The Lesson
Fog forces you to slow down.
You can’t shoot everything.
You can’t see everything.
You have to look harder.
Street photography isn’t always about the people walking past you. Sometimes it’s about the city itself — when it decides to hide.
Bob didn’t win because he chased dramatic light.
He won because he showed up when there was none.
And if there’s one thing Bob has proven over thousands of photo walks, 3,000+ Flickr uploads, and countless cold mornings in Toronto…
It’s that showing up is half the photograph.
Foggy City Award 2026.
Bob.
Still looking up.
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