Few compositional tools deliver as much drama per effort as a reflection. Water, glass, chrome, wet pavement — the world is full of mirrors waiting to double your subject, add symmetry, and turn ordinary scenes into layered images that hold a viewer twice as long. Florida, generously, is one big reflection farm.
Where to hunt: the obvious mirrors are lakes and retention ponds at dawn, before wind wrinkles the surface — the first hour of light is prime reflection time, full stop. The overlooked mirrors are better: the wet sand apron after a receding wave, rain puddles on parking lots, storefront windows at dusk, sunglasses, car hoods, and the glassy wake behind a slow boat.
The angle rule: reflections obey simple geometry — the lower your camera, the more mirror you get. A puddle shot from standing height reflects a sliver of sky; the same puddle two inches off the ground reflects a whole skyline. Get embarrassingly low. Phone photographers have the advantage here: flip the phone upside-down so the lens nearly touches the water and watch a two-foot puddle become a lagoon.
Symmetry versus accent: full mirror symmetry — horizon dead center, reflection matching reality — creates formal, meditative images and is one of the few times centering beats the rule of thirds. Alternatively, let the reflection be a supporting detail: a bird’s color echoed in the ripple beneath it, a couple doubled faintly in a shop window behind them.
Focus and exposure notes: reflections render about a stop darker than reality — either embrace it or lift shadows in editing. Decide deliberately whether focus lives on the surface or the reflection; at wide apertures they differ, and each choice tells a different story.
The practice mission: after the next afternoon storm, spend twenty minutes photographing only puddles. Wet-season Florida hands you a hundred temporary mirrors a week; the photographers who kneel are the ones who collect them.