When I set my camera up here last week, right after the coronavirus “social distancing” directive, I was focused mostly on the Carol Motel’s rustic sign. I hadn’t noticed the scurrying human activity underneath. I find this keeps happening as I compile these time lapses, little dramas occurring under my nose until I examine the thousand or so photographs I’ve taken. Of course, I have no idea what’s going on with these characters; where they’re going, least of all their intentions. I have preserved only a few brief seconds of their lives. But maybe that’s all that’s needed.
Route 41 Blues
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Published in Articles & Reviews