Today started with deep blue skies and stark autumn yellows. My hand ached to hold a camera and in my head I heard my father’s voice, “It’s a 25 ASA day”.

I don’t think he rated every day in terms of the American Standard Association rating of film sensitivity but I knew that he appreciated bright, sunny days with the stark, clean light like we had this morning.

In those days photography was very different. You bought film for the day and had to stick with what you had in the camera until you used up the roll. Get it wrong and it was either costly in terms of mistakes or a short day as the light changed and the camera had to be put away.

Days like today were always a 25 ASA day, never 15 DIN, despite the fact that the two were the same rating. In those days I was struggling with things like f stops and depth of field. He was patient, teaching me the mechanics and not commenting when I failed to grasp the aesthetics of what I should be doing.

It’s been over twenty years and I still struggle to hear his voice. Partly for the comfort of it, partly because I wonder what he’d say about the things I face now. Of course it doesn’t work. Time rubs away the memory every moment and makes it harder to hear it and remember. Except of course on those few, bright 25 ASA days.