“As a child, I dreamed of becoming a pilot. I never flew a plane; but with a camera in hand, I’ve learned to fly in other ways.”
Some dreams don’t vanish; they simply change shape.
Since I was little, I was fascinated by airplanes. I dreamed of traveling, of flying, of seeing the world from above. I never became a pilot. Life didn’t take me down that path.
But in 2018, I lived something that the child in me would have found just as magical: for the first time, I stepped onto an airport runway, not as a traveler, but as a photographer.
It was part of a job. I had with me my old Canon XTi and two modest lenses: the 18-55mm and the 75-300mm, both Canon. That day, with no expectations beyond observing and feeling, I captured a series of images that still move me. They don’t just portray aircraft or operations; they reflect awe, emotion, and respect for a world that breathes in sync between human effort and machine power.
The runway was a living stage: ground crew signaling with steady gestures, workers coordinating procedures, the heavy roar of engines, the warmth of the tarmac under morning light. It all seemed choreographed; and yet so alive.
In the background, Cubana de Aviación aircraft stood silent; some active, others grounded; one of them clearly deteriorated. Together, they told a story about more than aviation: about a country, about resistance, decay, and quiet hope.
Looking back, I realize these images reflect something deeply personal. I never fulfilled that childhood dream to fly planes. But I did travel. I learned to see the world through a lens. I told stories from rare perspectives. And that, in its own way, is also flying.
About the images
All photos were taken in 2018 using a Canon EOS Rebel XTi with 18-55mm and 75-300mm lenses. These are part of my personal archive, now revisited with more mature eyes, renewed purpose, and the same love for unnoticed moments.
And you?
Have you ever had a dream that didn’t come true but turned into something just as real and powerful?
I’d love to hear your story.
Thank you for joining me on this metal and memory journey.