Stevenson Screen, Hinges Rusted Open

The louvred door had seized at forty degrees sometime in the previous decade, and nobody had thought it worth fixing. I found it on a decommissioned plateau station in the Massif Central, the white paint lifting in long curls from the slats, the thermometer cradles still inside and perfectly level. I shot it straight-on in the dead flat light of an approaching front, letting the geometry of the louvers carry everything.