The night of September 7th was even heavier than usual. At exactly ten o'clock in the evening, I carried a heavy camera bag and walked into the park not far from home, stepping on the cool evening breeze. This is the first time I have witnessed and filmed a lunar eclipse with my own eyes. From the deep night to the faint dawn, this nearly eight hour long wait of light and shadow has become the most memorable night in my memory.

The Pingwangge Square in the park has a wide view and was the filming location I selected in advance. At this moment, the night sky is as clear as a wash, with a round moon hanging high in the sky, casting a clear glow on the earth, pulling the shadows of plants and trees tall and slender. I quickly set up the tripod, tightened every lock, and firmly fixed the camera. The lens was aimed at the moon and adjusted the focus. Before departure, I checked the entire schedule of the lunar eclipse, from the initial loss, to the end of the eclipse, and remembered every key point in my mind. However, when I really set up the camera, my fingertips couldn't help but tremble with nervousness.

Just after eleven o'clock, the lunar eclipse arrived as scheduled. A faint mark gradually appeared on the edge of the moon, as if a corner had been quietly gnawed by the night. I know that during a lunar eclipse, the light ratio changes greatly. In the initial stage, the moonlight is bright, but it will gradually become darker and the parameters must be constantly adjusted. I immediately adjusted the exposure speed and lowered the sensitivity until the moon on the screen was clear and sharp, with just the right level of brightness and darkness.

The night was getting darker and the temperature was getting lower. The cold wind carried the coolness of the plants and trees, and I wrapped my coat tightly, still feeling the chill seeping in through my collar and cuffs. The dark marks of the moon continue to expand, and the originally bright moon wheel gradually turns a faint red, like a piece of cinnabar that has been blurred open. The light ratio changes dramatically, and I have to frequently bend down to adjust the camera: as the food approaches, the moonlight becomes increasingly dim, so I slow down the exposure speed and increase the sensitivity; During the rounding stage, the moonlight gradually brightens, and it is necessary to promptly adjust the parameters. Every adjustment requires full attention, afraid of missing the key light and shadow changes. Unconsciously, my feet have become numb in the cold wind, and my fingertips are frozen stiff. I even need to exert extra force when pressing the shutter button.

There are no pedestrians in the park anymore, only the "click" sound of the camera shutter is particularly clear in the quiet night. I sometimes stand to observe the changes of the moon, sometimes squat to check the shooting effect, and when I get tired, I lean back on the tripod to rest for a moment, but my gaze never leaves the round moon in the sky. From the deep winter like cold night to the fish belly turning white in the east, the moon goes from perfect to incomplete, and then slowly returns to full shape from the dark red moon core. I carefully record the appearance of each stage in the camera.

At 5:30 in the morning, when the last ray of moonlight regained its clarity, I pressed the shutter button for the last time and took a long breath of relief. Looking at the complete sequence of lunar eclipse changes in the camera, from the subtle dark marks at the beginning of the eclipse to the red full moon at the beginning of the eclipse, and then to the gradually brighter and more rounded eclipse, all exhaustion instantly dissipated. Nearly eight hours of perseverance in the cold wind and non-stop parameter adjustments have all come to a satisfactory conclusion at this moment.

This is the first time I have embraced a lunar eclipse so closely, not only witnessing the magnificence and wonder of the universe, but also understanding the meaning of perseverance in this long shooting. Beautiful scenery never appears easily, only with persistent patience and professional focus can we capture those fleeting miracles of light and shadow. The eastern dawn gradually dyed the sky red. I packed my equipment and walked home under the morning light, feeling the warmth and emotion I had gained. The starlight and cold wind of this night became the most precious gifts on my photography journey.