Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Taking photos of the moon is mostly an exercise in futility, and a great example of how the human eye can catch sights far more crisply and accurately than any camera ever will.
Shooting the moon is even more difficult because the damn thing is 240,000 miles away and is moving quickly through space, which means it jumps around the camera viewfinder, especially if you're trying to zoom in on it. This squirrelishness suggests that maybe the moon doesn't want itself to be photographed, and prefers to retain an air of mystery.
This shot was taken just after sunset in Jaisalmer, India, a small city in the desert of western India that sits about 50 miles from the border with Pakistan, and can't be reached without a long, exhausting car or train ride. The moon was rising over this temple in the way it has for centuries, and as I aimed my camera, I could almost hear the moon taunting me and saying, "Yeah, go ahead, try and shoot me, but you KNOW the snapshot won't come close to depicting the actual scene."
And, if the moon saw this photo, it would probably shrug and say "Hey, not bad, but it doesn't even come close to capturing my sublime magnificence -- and you know it."