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Two Days, Nowhere in Particular
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I took forty-two photographs of the same dead oak tree, and I regret none of them.
I didn't set out with a plan. Saturday morning I left the apartment with a full thermos, a camera I keep forgetting I own, and a vague intention to walk until the sidewalks turned to dirt. Within an hour I was on a gravel service road behind the reservoir, where the only sounds were my own footsteps
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