My camera was aimed at the sky when he walked up beside me. He wore a black Harley-Davidson tee-shirt, black leather pants, and motorcycle boots. No motorcycle in sight. Maybe he lives across the street. We stood silent for a few seconds. Beneath blue skies and a sign that advertised “Tea” from our view and “Panda Garden” on the other side.
“I don’t get it,” he said, “I’ve walked this way a thousand times or more and I’ve never looked up and said, ‘Now that’s a photograph.'”
“That’s okay, you don’t have to get it. Here, look,” I said as I gestured for him to take the photograph from my hand.
He stared at the sky in silence and ignored my offer. Then he shook his head and walked inside the restaurant. I stood with the photograph for several minutes. I left it on the ground for him, hoping that he would pick it up on the way out.