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Photographer's Note

It was twilight. The sun was about to die that evening. The young woman, though, was walking up Gellert hill. I was moved by her determination, her air of freedom. She reminded me of the French Lieutenant's Woman, wrapped in loneliness.

"Where'er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade;
Trees, where you sit, shall crowd into a shade:
Where'er you tread, the blushing flow'rs shall rise;
and all things flourish where'er you turn you eyes."
G.F. Handel, from Semele

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Additional Photos by Sarolta Gyoker (designsoul) Gold Star Critiquer/Gold Star Workshop Editor/Gold Note Writer [C: 1527 W: 139 N: 3112] (17843)
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