Since Randa was leaving a tad early this morning to help a friend go pick up a new horse, and since her car had a tire holding just over half the recommended air pressure, I felt slightly obligated, err… I mean, was delighted to have the opportunity to do something nice for her. This opportunity required getting up at least an hour earlier than my usual habit. Which in turn meant I was outside before sunrise.

Even though the sun was not yet visible, I’m pretty sure the light tints coloring the lower edges of the clouds scattered across the sky were primarily the result of the sun’s general influence. Loving the tones and textures, I took a picture and posted it on one of my Facebook pages. It wasn’t stupendous but it was rather nice.

Then, after transferring some pressurized air from tank to tire, I went back into the house. Randa kissed me goodbye and headed over to meet her friend. I shoved a couple of pieces of Pumpernickel into the toaster, set a cup of coffee into the microwave and pressed the beverage button. In due time, I buttered two pieces of dark toast, spread on some homemade strawberry jelly, dumped a package of sweet flavoring into my hot mug of coffee and enjoyed my little breakfast.

After that, I walked back out the door and headed toward the barn to tend to the horse chores. As soon as I stepped outside, I noticed a whole different vibe to the sky. Fifteen minutes earlier, the tones were very light, pastel hints of color. Now, the drifting clouds were vibrant with darker, richer, more dramatic tones.

Just fifteen minutes…

I thought about how often in photography, even as little as a couple of minutes can make such a change in the view—especially with sunrises, sunsets, storm clouds, rainbows, and such. Similar phenomena with raising kids, falling in love, traveling, vacations, and all sorts of other things. We turn our attention for what seems like only a moment and miss the transitions that sometimes turn ordinary wonder into heartwarming extraordinary scenes, events, memories.

I can’t begin to count how many precious opportunities I missed over the decades because—for only a moment—I quit watching, paying attention, or started attending to something else, focusing on some other thing that seemed rather important, I suppose at the time. Yes, I lost way too many of such moments.

But, thank God, not all of them.

H. Arnett
10/28/24