Sermonette: Why Doesn't The Light Wait?

Among the bags of fan mail that we have received since the start of this blog, one topic stands out. Our public relations assistants, E. Ta and B. Ta (they are sisters, and trace their roots to Outer Mongolia) every day sort the incoming mail into different heaps by subject, and the heap pertaining to this one subject rapidly came to resemble the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
So, rather than replying individually to each sender, which would have considerably delayed the answers, today I will provide an answer in the blog.

The question, of course, is: what does the title of this blog mean? What is this deal with the light not waiting?

The title goes back to a remark by (I think) Ansel Adams: going back to a place where he had visualized a picture but been unable to take it never works. Even at the exact same hour on the next day, there is going to be a miriad of small differences, and the picture is just not going to be there. This puts the story of the taking of the famous Moonrise picture in New Mexico into perspective - Adams tells of having to set up his camera in haste before the last light of the sunset disappeared. Although he was a full-time photographer, and had nothing else to do but getting the pictures, he could not come back for it the next day.

Ansel Adams

Moonrise, Hernandez, New Mexico

1941

In general terms: at any moment, on any day, we may come across the opportunity to capture a great picture. We have to take it there and then. There is no "later": the opportunity is not going to be there "later". If we do not act immediately, it is as if the opportunity had never presented itself.

This is true of taking pictures, but it is true of human relations as well. Every now and then, we have the opportunity to do something to help someone, make him or her feel better, or take the first step towards a friendship. Those moments have to grabbed there and then - if you postpone them (because you are tired, late for an important meeting, or whatever) they will not come back. In the end, you will believe there were never opportunities to have more friends or live a more meaningful life. Today, I was in the Central Library in Seattle, and took a picture through the windows of the Courthouse across the street. One of the homeless men who spend their days in the library asked me if I was taking a picture of myself. He sounded friendly and eager to talk. I was in a hurry to leave the library before my parking expired. And I am rather shy, so I replied something briefly and left. Now I am kicking myself, but of course it makes no difference now. There is no going back to that moment.

If photography drills this principle into your head, than it is more than just a way of killing time with cool equipment. I know this post sounds like a sermonette, but what has to be said has to be said.