Clouds were what the weather report called for when I climbed into bed, so I had not intended to do any shooting that night. Momentarily waking in the middle of the night, though, I found the skies had cleared considerably. I grabbed my gear and made my way to the location I had scouted the day before. When I arrived, I was greeted by an elderly Japanese gentleman who was already shooting nearby. I set up my tripod, and we shared the silence, punctuated only by shutter clicks. He was still there shooting when I finished. He asked was I done already? Yes, I was.
The next morning I learned that the lights I had seen curling up the side of the mountain were lights from the climbing lodges and from the climbers themselves, ascending in the darkness to reach the summit before dawn. And when I looked back at the photos in sequence, I indeed could see the little dots of white slowly climbing up the mountain.
The climbers don't know it, but even now, they ascend that mountain still. I check the picture on my wall, and they are still there, frozen by two lenses sharing the silence of the night.
