Recently I came across photographs I very much admire, by Eiji Ohashi.  His series called, "Roadside Lights", depicts Japan's ubiquitous vending machines.  Most were photographed at night or dusk, so they emit a warm glow.  Locations range from grand landscapes, including Mount Fuji, to more humble looking village streets and local shops.  Many were taken in snow, as the photographer's hometown is Wakkanai in the farthest north of Hokkaido.  All are beautifully composed and exposed. 

Living here, one certainly becomes accustomed - especially on sweltering days like we're having now - to having a cold drink close at hand just about anywhere in the city, thanks to these machines.  And in fact, they also deliver hot drinks that are welcome in winter.  When we see them far from cities, though, we may feel differently.  Even at the summit of the sacred Mt. Fuji, such machines can be found.

The photographs are without people, so the machines are simultaneously oasis-like (in fact, Ohashi has said the idea of photographing vending machines came after he was caught in a heavy snowstorm and it was only by their lights that he was able to find his way home) and evidence of humanity's impact on the natural landscape.  Looking at these photos, I feel a tension between seeing them as beacons of rescue and human convenience - what led them to be put there in the first place - and as stains on the earth. 

I'll definitely be looking for more of Ohashi san's work.