The house becomes a ghost when the fog settles in. The flowers hold their white against the grayscale — the one thing with color and insistence — while the oaks and the building and the whole formal arrangement of the park blur into suggestion. This is Savannah’s other mood, the one that whispers instead of shouts. The landscape becomes mood, becomes memory, becomes something you can’t quite hold onto.
Shot at Forsyth Park, Savannah, Georgia, 2026.
