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I found these tires in front of an antique shop in Wells, Maine. I photographed them at about five-thirty in the morning when I thought no one would be up yet. Wrong. The proprietor came out of his shop to make sure I wasn’t going to hurt the tires. I promised not to. Apparently that didn’t do it, because he came out again to tell me to leave. He said I was distracting his grandchildren, who needed nourishment. I offered to show him the shot but he declined: “Why would I want to see it? I have the tires.” Moron.