Once again, a certain house I know and love (not my own residence, thank whatever) has made yet another of my cameras change its white balance without warning. Today the camera was my faithful phone camera, and it happened in the garden. Here is the weathered wood staircase as it normally appears. And here are two crops showing the influence of what I am starting to think is a magenta ghost. There’s a story idea in there somewhere– the ghost of a color, haunting all passing photographers? Or perhaps a ghost who doesn’t bang doors or make cold spots in rooms, but instead influences the properties of light itself. And only photographers can record his or her presence …
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what manner of mysteries do I find here?