and wait for the smoke to cross my path, the acrid smell of it (and also kind of nice, I can't deny it) swirling in eddies as the stream of wind finds it, and I stand there and the smoke comes past me and I make a photograph. Then I have made something today. There was not this photograph and then I worked with my camera and we agreed on this moment. And I love that and inside me it settles the way a leaf settles in the water, dropping this way and that until it is really settled, in the bottom of me. And I exhale the breath I have been holding all day at my important job.
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