I took this photograph in a deserted Victorian hunting lodge in a very remote part of the Highlands. I was meant to be fishing but it was too hot and I went off to take photographs instead. I found this old lodge with the front door open and went in for a look. It was completely empty and gradually falling into disrepair, but the old book of Tennyson's poetry abandoned on one of the marble mantlepieces caught my eye. A relic from a bygone era, like the lodge itself. It's difficult to read the book's title at this size, hence this explanation.