Out alone on Dartmoor in the wild mid-winter when howling winds from ancient times stirred the limbs and leaves to blow a chorus of thunder through the mighty oaks.
This time last year and so many seasons since . . . when it doesn’t seem that long ago at all.
Shot down on the Bowery during a biting snow storm, squeezing the last final frames out of the camera before the creeping lens fog declared enough, no more.
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