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Tag: Shenandoah

The River

The River

The river is real and metaphorical at the same time. Or, perhaps, a shade or two off the instant. It is real only before and after the photograph. When I look through the lens, I’m already behind the times and separate from my river. When I look at the photograph, I am further removed in time and space – there and not there. Being as if. Not being as one. Such musings are more or less obvious. But what is…

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