Through the Ground Glass

Leaving my refrigerator bulletin behind, I walked down the street into an old camera repair shop and hopped onto the oak workbench. Resting among tiny screwdrivers sat an open twin-lens reflex camera with its metal waist-level viewfinder popped wide. Peering down into the frosted glass screen, the entire workshop ceiling appeared inverted and delightfully contrary to standard navigation. I braced both palms against the knurled focus knob, slowly rotating the brass dial until a dormant overhead lamp snapped into razor-sharp, crystalline geometry. Bangor looks remarkably dignified when turned completely upside down. I gave the inverted view a solemn, approving nod, satisfied that optical laws were behaving with absolute precision.