The photo I shared here yesterday is one of my favorites, and while I haven’t commented much on those I’ve posted before, I can’t help but talk about this one.
My daughter and I were walking around downtown Keene, when I ducked into an alley and shot this as she muttered: “There he goes again.”
They’re full of interesting things, and what’s more, no one ever seems to notice just how wonderful they are.
Out on the street?
Nine out of ten times, what you see out front has been hand-crafted. Windows washed, sidewalks swept, brickwork scrubbed—gotta keep it clean for the tourists.
And while I don’t mean to sound derisive or elitist, I find scenes like that boring as hell. There’s no energy or interest to be found in a well-kept facade.
But out back, down the alley? No one bothers to pull the weeds, paint the drain pipe, or wash the lone window overlooking the dumpster.
And that’s the good stuff.
That’s where you see the real rhythm of a place—employees on a smoke break, the stray cat nosing a forgotten sandwich, a beam of light illuminating unkempt vines that have been challenging the brick for decades.
I love absolutely everything about the picture above.
The lines of the poles, that patch of light on the wall, the pallet. The vines, the wires, that tire track—everything. Not a single thing in this photo looks out of place to me, and not one bit of it was planned out or made beautiful for the public.
It just is beautiful.