The entire house slowly darkens, yielding to night's arrival. One room, situated near the front and facing the west, still clings to the dying light and glows a defiant orange.
It's quiet and still in the house but yet something still shouts at me to raise the camera. It occurs to me that whatever I capture in the final minutes with this light, this final light, will be the last glimpse of what today looked like.
In a matter of moments, any other mention of today will be forever surrendered to the darkness. Photography is the only real weapon against this ticking clock. We produce the only record of a past otherwise destined to be forgotten.
Time marches forward. The setting sun brings darkness, but a new day brings new light. It’s a cycle that we are forced by nature to respect. No matter how complex or simple the subject may be we, as photographers, will always cling to the light in an effort to make sure that today is not forgotten.