I. Love. Alleys.
The sound my shoes make on the broken pieces of gravel, glass, stone, dirt - ahhhh. Quiet. Calm. An odd secretive world. The city is screaming with its sirens and people, and then I turn a corner and ... shhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHPP. Gone. If I, someday in my photographic wanderings, find a secret garden in a back alley, well, then it will be true love.
A peek at my walk this evening. Before my toes became too cold to move. Before my camera battery died (which wasn't funny - and it still isn't funny. Not. ok. to. joke. I'll announce when I'm ready to find the humor in this situation). There was terrible light, but the actual event was more important than what I ended up with.