I breathed in the fresh air circulating around Central Park, my exhalation coming out before me in short puffs. The sounds of the city behind me were calming to my ears and my whole body felt at peace as I did what I loved doing the most.

My hands fiddled with the lens of the device as I adjusted all the features. I zoomed in on a kid playing on the playground, with his chubby hands full of sand. I captured the thrill, the excitement in his eyes as he began to put the sand in his mouth. I moved my device over as I spotted the frantic mother, and I captured the worry written so clearly on her face.

I slowly walked through the park, my shoes crunching through the leaves on the pavement. I spotted an elderly couple sitting on a bench nearby surrounded by little birds and pigeons as they threw small bread crumbs at the ground. The birds squabbled over and fought to get each piece in their beaks. I captured the annoyance on the elderly man, as the birds kept coming back, and the joy on the woman's face as she smiled at the sight around her.

I walked a little further, soaking in everything around me and I spotted a couple, hand in hand, walking through the rows of American Elm trees. The shadows of the trees danced around them, creating a serene look, almost a glow cascading down them. I captured that moment and walked away with a smile on my face.

And that was why I loved doing what I did. A photo captured a thousand words. It caught every moment and every feeling that a person was feeling right there in that second. And even if things changed in the future, there would always be that photograph depicting that moment in time. It immortalized those feelings of joy, despondency, anxiety, and anger.

Ever since I was a child, I had an uncanny feeling of wanting to bring something to the world. And through photography, I thought I could deliver that. I had always been amazed by the camera, the way that it worked, and the way that it seemed to so effortlessly capture a precious memory that could've been lost otherwise.

Somehow I had ended up in the beautiful city of New York after high school and now I was taking photography courses at NYU. On the side, I was taking as many pictures as I could to make my portfolio so I could perhaps make my own freelance photography business. Currently, I had a job at a small music store on the east side of Manhattan. That covered my rent and other necessities I needed.

Today was my off day because I didn't have any classes today, so I continued to snap a few more pictures in Central Park and then started making my way back to my apartment.

My recent move to the city had made me one of the happiest people ever. I loved every essence and every nook and cranny of the place. The constant surplus of people was one of my favorite things about it because where I was from, my hometown, was very small so there was a deficiency of people there.

I simply loved the upbeat pace of life here, the constant roar of cars down the street, the lights, the spontaneity, and the diversity. You could be free here. The city was accepting in so many ways and it didn't matter where you were from or what your past was, you were judged by your abilities and what you could do, not by unnecessary details that didn't make up you.

I zipped up my jacket to my chin, trying to withhold all the warmth I could. The fall weather was very pleasant but a little chill had begun to drift throughout the air. I didn't mind it however, it was my favorite time of the year.

My feet carried me out of Central Park and onto 59th street, passing the Plaza Hotel. I craned my neck up, looking at how tall the building actually was. It must be so nice staying in there. But it was one of the most expensive hotels in NYC and held a lot of prestige.

I passed tourists, there was a constant buzz of those here, snapping pictures everywhere. Occasionally, I would ask a family or a couple if they wanted me to take a picture of them together and their happy faces always put me in a good mood.

My camera rested on my stomach as the strap hung around my neck. Her name was Lola. I'd gotten her as a Christmas gift a few years ago and we'd been inseparable ever since. She was the love of my life.

My eyes drifted through the crowds of people. It was pretty busy right now, after all, it was lunch hour. I moved, nudged, and bumped through the large masses of people.

I came into a little less crowded area and I looked around per usual, looking at the expressions of people, the various buildings and anything in sight really.

I put my right eye on the viewfinder of Lola and I looked around in it, snapping pictures if I got the chance.

I saw a group of chattering girls through the viewfinder up ahead. They didn't look too bad, I thought in my head, but I kept looking around through the small square. I spotted a girl trailing behind the loud group of girls and meanwhile, someone bumped past me making my fingers graze the click button. As the lens closed in front of me, I jumped, not realizing I had taken the picture. I moved the camera away from my face to take a look at the girl in real life who was progressing towards me speedily, she looked so annoyed with the group of girls in front of her, that I'm sure she didn't realize I took a picture of her. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders and she rolled her eyes as she walked in my direction. I kept walking, pretending to look though my pictures until I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Are you some kind of tourist or something?" Her wild eyes narrowed at me and she walked away, shaking her head disapprovingly.