At this particular corner, a flatbed truck with a beat-up barrel strapped on it was parked in the sun in front of a tree turning orange. The whole thing suggested a strange kind of pagan altar, a mixed metaphor of bondage, suffering, nobility, hope and grandeur.
Left the camera home. Damn!
Then I remembered I had my iPhone with me. Better than nothing. I took the picture and drove the remaining three blocks home to get the big camera. I was back at the corner in less than five minutes.
But the truck was gone. As I’ve said before, ain’t no such thing as still life.
And as I’ve discovered before, the iPhone camera ain’t too shabby.
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