Sometimes...


Sometimes, a photograph makes itself. I love the way the windows echo the shape of the lantern, how the slope of the land and the slant of the light draw the eye down and left, and the curve of the wall brings it back again. The 55 on the wall below the lantern declare the scene significant and personal to someone, anchor a beginning and end.

A real photographer would have seen all this action before snapping the picture, and would have had something better than a phone to do it with.

Henry's books.

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