Eight frames
Hung like a gallery wall — wander down the page, let a frame catch your eye, and click to step closer. Each piece has its placard.
Placeholder placard copy: a bee-eater pauses on a bare curve of branch, terracotta wall going soft behind it. Two or three sentences from Wayne will live here.
Placeholder placard copy: one streetlight does all the work, and the city hums out of focus behind him. Wayne's own description will replace this.
Placeholder placard copy: lanterns come on before the sky commits to night, and the crowd moves toward the temple under a roof of blossoms. Final copy to come.
Placeholder placard copy: empty chairs keep their own company after the last table clears. A few sentences about this street will replace these.
Placeholder placard copy: the daily greeting, nose to fingertip, photographed at cat height. Wayne's caption will land here.
Placeholder placard copy: lamplight, a standing ace, and a look that says the hand is already won. Description forthcoming.
Placeholder placard copy: thirty years of paint holding its shine under one warm bulb. Wayne's notes on this classic will replace these lines.
Placeholder placard copy: arches repeat until the light runs out, and the corridor keeps the last word. Closing copy to come.