Behind some of my most thrilling photography lies not technical skill or talent, but luck. Two kinds of luck, in fact. One has to do with having been there at all, camera in hand, to witness a magnificent moment. The other—with the photo coming out sharp and precisely composed. Maybe, with regard to this second variety, I’m unfairly dismissing the importance of experience and artistry, but it would be a mistake (a common and tempting one, actually) to leave luck entirely without its due attribution. Because I really am no genius when it comes to handling exposure in a hurry. Or focus—ever. In fact, my real gift may well the editor’s, not the artist’s. I choose what to keep and what to shave off when I’m cropping a photo. I choose what is the best of eight or my best of fifty as the one shot to keep in my archive. I bet time will pass and I won’t even know how many other pictures I took today that simply weren’t as lucky. But this one? This one stays. It’s got good-luck-charm written all over it.