Shreveport
Work took me to Shreveport, LA, for an extended time. One evening, I walked along the banks of the Red River. A storm had passed earlier in the afternoon, leaving a sky awash in a vibrant palette of colors. The sun, a fiery orb perched low on the horizon, cast its warm glow across the landscape, painting the cotton candy clouds in pink, orange, and purple hues. The landscape was tired and decayed but not dead. A sense of life still clung to the bedraggled riverboats and rusted bridges.
