A house in Charleston's French Quarter with a red door and a gate that announces itself.

The ironwork on the right is what stops people — a tall scrolled gate with PIRATES COURTYARD worked into the metal across the top of it. Behind the gate, low sun has come through the trees and thrown hard leaf shadows across the yellow stucco wall. The house itself is plain by comparison: grey stucco, red shutters, a red door under a pedimented surround, brick steps. A crepe myrtle is in full pink flower on the left.

Colorful and quite specific. It reads as somewhere in particular, which is the point.