Ah, Hosier Lane, you draw us in like moths, following the threads of paint, text, story, and so many little moments of surprise, every time different and every time the same. Photographers flit back and forth like bees, the walls change by the hour, and every peek around every corner shows something funny, something clever, something mischievous. We gather our little pieces of this place, take them home, and wait for the next harvest.

Don’t ever change… except for all the time.

(Sharon’s interpretation of Hosier Lane is on her blog here.)