As we left our hotel in Coulterville, I noticed a battered lawn ornament staring at our rooms just across the parking lot. The figure is handicapped – its legs have been reduced to rusting metal rods. I got behind it, putting my viewers into its shoes. The forlorn figure seems to be longing for a place to stay – the morning light slashes it with spots of warmth and adds mysterious shadows as well. The figure is incongruous. We don’t expect to see something like this standing in a motel parking lot. (He can have my room, now that I’ve checked out.)