“Stacking the towers was a way to honour his memory.”
ven on a gloomy afternoon in mid-August, as heavy storm clouds hover in the valley below, the panoramic view of the Catskill Mountains from Iman’s living room is stunning. Looking out onto the verdant landscape through the floor-to-ceiling windows feels akin to wearing an enormous pair of binoculars. “Hmm. I’m not sure that we’ll see the sunset today,” says Iman, who is seated at her circular dining room table in front of a laptop. She’s dressed in a long robe printed with black and saffron yellow flowers reminiscent of the black-eyed Susans growing along a fieldstone wall outside. She pulls up a gallery of golden-hour images to offer proof of just what I’m missing. “The sight of the beautiful sunset would make me cry,” she says, scrolling through dozens of shots. “But the
