Assignment 9: Halloween

A Highland Park home displays subtle Halloween decorations beneath strong morning light on Tuesday, Oct. 31, 2025, in Dallas. The photo was taken for a photojournalism assignment examining seasonal décor and natural lighting challenges. (Photo by Johnny Crowley)

When I took this picture of the Highland Park Halloween house, I thought I had something good — a clean subject, nice seasonal decorations, a quiet fall atmosphere. But looking at it now, I see more of what I missed than what I captured. I took the photo quickly, almost casually, and I think that shows. The scene had potential, but my approach didn’t match it. This assignment reminded me that sometimes I settle too easily instead of slowing down and pushing for a stronger, more thoughtful shot.

The one thing I will give myself credit for is that I chose a home with character. It has texture, shadow, decoration, an actual feeling of fall. You can tell it’s real — not staged, not exaggerated. The natural light reveals the wood grain, the pumpkins are subtle instead of overwhelming, and the house almost blends into the trees like it’s part of autumn itself. I think I captured the honesty of the house, and that’s something I’m proud of. The wide framing also gives the viewer context — the walkway, the branches, the yard. It has space to breathe.

But here’s the truth — I didn’t work hard enough for this one. I stayed in one spot. I didn’t explore angles. I didn’t chase better lighting or try to find the emotion in the decorations. The shadows are harsh and the highlights are blown out. Part of the house looks hidden while other parts are too bright, almost washed. I could’ve waited for softer light, or even come back at dusk when Halloween decorations feel alive instead of sitting calmly in daylight. I should’ve moved — closer, lower, sideways — instead of standing still like a tourist taking a snapshot.

To improve, I need to start treating every shot like it matters. Not as something to check off for an assignment, but something that carries weight and intention. Next time, I need to shoot multiple frames with purpose — one focused on the porch details, one showing the long shadows intentionally, one capturing the personality of the pumpkins or the front door wreath. I want to learn to slow down, to think, to look twice before I click once. Because the house itself had story — I just didn’t dig deep enough to pull it out.

In the end, this photo humbles me. It tells me I’m improving, but it also tells me I have a long way to go. There’s something there — something good — but it’s surrounded by what could’ve been better if I put in more effort. And maybe that’s the most valuable part of the assignment. I’m learning not just what I captured, but what I missed. That’s what pushes me forward — knowing I can come back stronger, more patient, more observant, and give a place like this the photo it deserved.