Picture perfect

Twilight tremors onwards,

faster than I can run,

faces made immortal

with the cadence of the sun.

Caught in flashes,

forests frozen,

sky a steely grey.

This is a photo-finish,

& with it light of day.

Riddle.

They say ask me no questions

and I will tell no lies.

What am I? 

A sphinx, a phoenix, a centaur

or one of a million myths,

and all of them,

but newer,

and none.