Have you ever chased a perfect shot only to be met with disappointment?
In a world where everyone shares only the best parts, the perfect shots, the unique moments, I want to tell you the story of a failure. Because things don’t always go as planned, and you don’t always capture the shot you envisioned, no matter how much you prepared or invested in special equipment.
It’s October, and the comet C/2023 A3 (Tsuchinshan-ATLAS) is predicted to be visible from Japan, with a brief window in the early morning before sunrise and another after sunset. All that’s needed is a clear sky and a trip away from the city lights.
I had never tried astrophotography before, but the idea sparked excitement. Without a telescope for close-up shots, I set my sights on capturing a landscape that included Mount Fuji with the comet above it. The weather forecast was tricky, and my time was limited. Finally, one Sunday, everything seemed to align, so I set out for Zushi, specifically Hayama Lighthouse.
I arrived later than intended, with only a short time before dawn, and found Mount Fuji obscured by a dense wall of clouds. My heart sank as the horizon faded behind the veil of mist. Quickly, I chose a spot, set up my tripod, and began taking test shots, adjusting my settings in haste. My phone app indicated that the comet should be above and to the left of Fuji san, but I couldn’t see it—not with my eyes and not in my photos.
Briefly, the top of Fuji san emerged from behind the clouds, so I kept shooting, changing compositions and experimenting with techniques. As darkness fell, it was time to pack up and return home, disappointed. “Next time will be better,” I reassured myself (or not—but I’ll maybe tell you that story another time).Briefly, Fuji san emerged from behind the clouds, so I kept shooting, changing compositions and experimenting with techniques. As darkness fell, it was time to pack up and return home, disappointed. “Next time will be better,” I reassured myself (or maybe not— Perhaps I’ll tell you that story another time).
The next day, I examined my photos. To my surprise, there it was: a tiny, blurry dot with a faint tail in one frame. Much farther from Fuji than expected.
Was it my mistake? A faulty app? Inexperience? Likely a bit of all three.
That’s how it goes. Sometimes everything aligns, and other times, nothing does. The key is to learn from each attempt and keep moving forward.
Failure, I’ve learned, is part of the journey. We’ll see if I’ve gained anything by the time the next comet comes around.
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Gabriele T. Enna 