stranger things

There are days when I walk about, this time in Colonial Beach, and the only things I see to photograph are strange, compelling for the story they tell and do not tell at the same time. A hearse rolling down the street casually on its way for a pick-up or a leisurely ride; a life-sized doll lying in the front yard, abandoned, with her dress over her head; an empty lot with a sidewalk to what might have once been a home where the school bus stopped to pick up children and a mother waved good-bye.