Woman and Cross

I travel alone much of the time, so there is little to do but take photos of people I don't know in places I am learning. There is a detached connection that has at its core a hollowness. When the images come home, however, there they are, the people I have seen and not met, and they begin to form the fabric of my experience. I remember them there and then, perhaps falsely, but all memories are false to some degree.  In time, the emptiness recedes and the faces emerge.  I saw the woman before this cross and could not help but take the picture.