Loaded up the truck and headed north with Lamont. Abandoned hotels, 1800s schoolhouses, a barn door opened ten thousand times by hands that are all gone now. This is what I chase.

5 a.m. Friday. My youngest son, a camera, and the longest possible route to Flagstaff. The client could wait. The bonding couldn't.

300 shots from a protest at a Phoenix mosque. One photo of one little girl changed everything — and led me back through the front door with a print in my hand