More and more, my camera draws me to the broken doors and open windows and lonely old stone walls, windows into lost souls and a lost world. Today, while driving around looking for doors and windows, I listened to  Bob Dylan. I think, when I look at the stone walls and broken houses of Lost America, of his song, “Ring Them Bells,” which these places evoke. And I think of the child who cries, and when innocence dies, and I want to cry myself.

“Ring them bells for the blind and the deaf,

Ring them bells for all of us who are left,

Ring them bells for the chosen few

Who will judge the many when the game is through.

Ring them bells, for the time that flies,

For the child that cries

When innocence dies.”

“Ring Them Bells,” by Bob Dylan