Vietnam

I remember staring at the vast expanse of red that stretched out in front of me. It was like an ocean.  A colour so vivid it looked like ground was bleeding. Yet this was the red of industry, of life, of community, and of craft. The red was that of a million incense sticks, drying in the burning sunshine. An industry that has united a nation for generations and one that turns sleeping ramshackle villages into hives of productivity every year. 

Vietnam. That red. That photograph.