The understated tomb of this great French explorer, whose exploits gave France claim to Canada, would not have made much of a picture in itself. But the context given to it by the flowers, color, and light Ė and the way I chose to compose the image -- adds beauty, mystery, and meaning. The light streaming through the great stained glass windows of the church has turned the gray stone floor to a soft pink, changing the austere, grim nature of what is essentially room of the dead, to a chamber of warmth. I composed the image as a series of repeating diagonals Ė the tomb itself is the last of them. Using my spot meter, I exposed for the brightest part of the picture Ė the white flowers in the floral arrangement on top of the tomb. As result, the entire picture gets darker, particularly the shadowy background. I wanted the eye to move across the pink slabs to the tomb and then into the darkness beyond, creating a metaphor for both the nature of death as well as Cartierís challenge in life. The tomb is like a ship, sailing off the edge of the world into the unknown, its flowers symbolizing life, the darkness of death. Cartier, who once successfully explored the unknown, now floats upon an eternal sea.