I followed these two nuns today. I first spied them looking into the windows of Bucherer, a Swiss jewelry store across the street from the opera house at the end of Maximilianstrasse, one of the most exclusive shopping streets in Europe and certainly the most expensive in Munich. There was something about the image of their black silhouettes peering into the golden light of the window that stopped me. I kept walking but that brief image had burned itself into my mind and I was compelled to turn around. They'd moved on to a colorful tie shop when I captured the image here but my flash went off and the picture was crappy. The older, grayer, thinner nun was always quick to move on after that, while the younger, heavier nun always lingered. But, they both stopped a few doors down in front of a window featuring a full-length black silk gown with a full skirt and grosgrain accents on the bodice. It was beautiful, it was dramatic, it was their color. I wondered if there were such a thing as a covetometer what kind of register it might have picked up from these two. They gazed. I gazed from across the cobbled street trying to look slow and busy, hoping to capture a good photo, but it was the older nun who could feel me and somehow wouldn't let it be done. She looked around. I'm sure she didn't see me, it was twilight and there were a fair number of people on the street, but she pressed on like a vigilant deer. I felt her feeling me and I felt her lull in piety and I smelled a tinge of guilt that made her push on as the heavier nun enjoyed window after window. It wasn't long before I turned around again, the photos weren't coming together and I didn't want to make the nuns uncomfortable--even though the images could have been so good. They just wanted to window shop like everyone else, after all nuns are humans. They certainly must understand what it's like to yearn and long, when the marriage isn't all they'd hoped it would be and they'd just like to fill in the gaps with something shiny or some nice cake.