The yucca on my terrace is in bloom again. This time around, there is only one vertical stem with a profusion of flowers. They are magnificent. Taken by the beauty of the flowers, I took a photograph of them. A short while later I discovered that I had succumbed to the same urge a couple of years ago (“Useless Photos,” May 30, 2012). Whence the urge to photograph, though? The first thing that comes to mind by way of an answer is that this has to do with the urge to stop time when something wonderful is within sight. The third principle of Bon Buddhism is my witness (“Ten Principles of Bon Buddhism,” April 10, 1992). If this is so, should I destroy the photo at once? Or should I never look at it again? Either way, the urge to stop time remains unaffected. Alas, the only true way around it is still beyond me.