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He was walking back from Cley beach, an elderly man and, though slightly bent, he was energetic and alive in the sense that few people are. I imagined this was a daily walk, a constitutional, a place intimately known to him. I was a passager in a car returning from the beach, and as we sped past I took three frames, this one being the first. A moment later he turned and our eyes flashed together - a split second of him walking high above on the dunes and with the inconvenient noise of this car below him. I imagined I was little more than a nuisance, someone rudely armed with a camera - as though he was capturing something more valuable, for here was a man who needed only his stick and his binoculars, evidently with no need for any camera of his own.
© 2009 Mark Rowden.
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