Passerby Only See A Wisp Of Smoke

I love the eerie quality smoke bombs add to photographs. The world of modern photography can be so sharp. Where's the intrigue of a blurred image as someone moves away or disappears into a shadow? In old films it used to be as much about what they didn't show you as what they did. A director could get your heart racing just by leaving you in the darkness waiting for a reveal that never happens. So, I set off smoke bombs in the forest surrounded with abandoned and moss-covered structures teeming with lazy snails and industrious daddy-long legs, adding my own mystery to the quiet scene--hiding my dancing, prancing, randomness in the woods from people going by.