This is a series by photographer, Tom Dinning. You can read the first three parts of this series here: Shooting at First Light, Shooting at Second Light, Shooting at Midday.
This is a collection of photographs taken over the years during that time of the day (between 4pm and 7.30pm in my part of the world) when we take a deep breath and hope tomorrow will be a little better. This is for my friend, Edward. I hope tomorrow will bring new light into his life. Hang on Edward.
Shooting at Last Light
Somewhere on this planet, the hand that never stops
Ticks away our days in a slow procession.
There’s some warmth and comfort in that last light
For those who have the time to pass
With their own thoughts or the thoughts of others.
The summer heat looses its sting and monochrome light shrouds the cities
In preparation for darkness.
A few scurry by with intent in their eyes
Others stare blindly into tomorrow.
And someone lingers just long enough
To know the night to come will be her last or first.
Glass monoliths gawk back at the Sun
But at the edge there are those who wait to see it end
Playing in the shadows that creep and cling to the ground beneath their feet
Others are seeking their tranquility among the tidal steep
Leaving time enough to find a way home
Leaving nature to do its course in the twilight that follows.
Then the hand passes once more. The light falls on stolen graves
Abandoning remains to those who regulate their life by the setting of the Sun.
In their wake, a glimmer of hope, a flicker of life,
The detritus from yesterday yet to be swept away into the memory of tomorrow
With reparations for what comes when First Light reappears on a new horizon. Now the camera records it all, not yet as it was but as it ought to be. Moments in time and space confined to the hardened edge of the frame.
Softened by the maker and the viewer.
This is the image of us all. Something to grasp in the lasting light.
This is the photograph.