A Million Spires, Ten Million Memories
As the month of August blurs past -- beach weekends dwindling, the imagined long drives to non-existent, abandoned Pennsylvanian mountain towns proving unlikely -- the slope into September, October, and the autumnal nostalgia that accompanies, looms. These months, after all, are a landmark bundle, an annual reminder of the past blending with the present, spiced with hopes and ideas for the future. From birthday (29), to anniversary of marriage (2), and the anniversary of geography (9), nostalgia proves inevitable.
From the promenade, the city skyline has an allure for tourists and locals alike. This summer evening, however, I'm seeing it differently: the buildings that once held mystery now represent familiarity, comfort. The skyline is secondary. Each building, traversed from the spire to the ground with my eyes, meets the streets flanking it, intersecting with one another, and the moods these variables create. If there are a million buildings, there are a million spires leading down to ten million memories. This is where we are, where we've been -- where are we going? What's next?
Zeiss Distagon 50mm f/4
Kodak Tmax 400 (120)