Documenting life as it passes by around me is one of my favourite things to do. I see it as one step up from people-watching, as I capture the story of a moment in the wild in a single frame, sometimes two or three, and study it for longer than I could at the time it first fascinated me.
Images like this one, captured as I passed through the old town of Rye in Sussex, are perhaps a little romanticised than they were for the subjects of the photographs themselves, but maybe the act of observing these moments as an outsider brings out the underlying story that would otherwise go untold.
“Man in the Window”
A gentleman, alone. He sat here for a moment drumming his fingers on the table. His agitation caught my eye as I passed, causing me to stop a moment. Seconds later, a waitress arrived with his tea and I watched as he thanked her, kindly. He took off his mask, set it down, and poured his tea before placing his once impatient hand placidly on the table. The tea arriving was calming enough, it seemed. Or perhaps without his mask he could breathe. The waitress passed again with milk for him, and as he poured I captured it. Such a serene ritual. A ceremony for one.
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