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This is a Congregational church in Kent, Connecticut. I took the photo 12 years ago on a Saturday afternoon with my great Uncle Bud. He was a lovely man, and every now and again we'd go out in his Buick for a ride along the back roads to see what was there. This was a regular pastime for this an elderly widower who had spent his long life loving the world around him and taking it to heart through the lens of a camera.

He kept his camera in his trunk unless the weather was extremely hot or cold so that he could snap whatever looked interesting. Of course, snapping came after using the light meter and going through all the other movements of a photographer who wouldn't dream of doing anything automatically or imprecisely. At the end of his life, he had cabinets full of photos of interesting things he saw along the way. Each one was a well-composed work of art.

When we made our travels together, I would watch him sweet talk gallery curators in to letting him photograph displays or asking mamas to let him photograph their children. Or girls on swings. And so many others. These people saw in him exactly what he was: a loving man who celebrated beauty. They responded as people who loved to be found beautiful. That was the magic of my uncle. God rest him.