A Tropical Conception
The Tree had gone. It had probably eventually died, or been claimed by the encroaching waves. Or maybe it had suffered the fate of that other perfect palm overhanging the Indian Ocean on Kuda Bandos in the Maldives, and had been chopped down by a conniving photographer who wished to deny the perfect location to others. At least that was the tale a fellow pro from California told me. It was a good story of dubious credibility, but knowing my profession I could almost believe it. Whatever – I was secretly pleased: at least my shot from ’94 could never be replicated, even by me. It was good to be back though; few tropical isles match up to La Digue, and we had a month – a whole month – when the world could spin without us. All I had to do was write Waiting for the Light.
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