I have chosen "A dead bird", number 54.
I see it laying on the ground with its feathers covered in oil. I see it struggling with the waves crashing behind it with the black sand caused by the oil spill off in Santa Barbara. Its dead body burning by the heavy mid-day sun. Behind it lays in the horizon a wooden harbor with the ocean, polluted with oil, around it. My heart aches from the scene in front of me. Pollution is like a fire in the middle of a forest, it kills everything that it touches, even this innocent bird.
You describe the photo vividly. The parallel you draw between pollution and fire is particularly thought-provoking. To make this stronger, consider removing references to "me" and "I," thereby focusing exclusively on the photo itself.
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