Destination Uncertain
You find yourself in an “Abandoned Train Car”, outside the door, outer space; your head is swirling while Rod Serling narrates your experience. “You've entered The Twilight Zone”
I took this original photo of a retired train car at Pollen Park, in Raleigh, NC. My interpretation of the subject follows the train as it enters its twilight of life; outside are no longer heard the sounds of people hustling to make the noon train, it's now replaced with the sounds of night creatures and the solar winds. The door is open allowing light reflected off the moon to fill the car with a pale light revealing the reds and washing out the blues. Peering out the door she can see stars hanging in the darkness like beacons beckoning travelers to come and see. But no soul peers from the window and dreams of visiting the distant lights for this train is fixed and will never visit the lights for it has traveled its last track; the hiss of steam and its warm breath is no longer fed by the Fireman and so it’s flame no longer licks at his shovel. Be not sad for the little engine, he traveled his world, investigated every tunnel, and felt the cool evening air brush past, cooling his hot wheels as he raced every stretch of the tract and rounded every turn. He is at peace as he rests among the stars, but you my friend have not traveled far or long enough and must continue on your way.
I took this original photo of a retired train car at Pollen Park, in Raleigh, NC. My interpretation of the subject follows the train as it enters its twilight of life; outside are no longer heard the sounds of people hustling to make the noon train, it's now replaced with the sounds of night creatures and the solar winds. The door is open allowing light reflected off the moon to fill the car with a pale light revealing the reds and washing out the blues. Peering out the door she can see stars hanging in the darkness like beacons beckoning travelers to come and see. But no soul peers from the window and dreams of visiting the distant lights for this train is fixed and will never visit the lights for it has traveled its last track; the hiss of steam and its warm breath is no longer fed by the Fireman and so it’s flame no longer licks at his shovel. Be not sad for the little engine, he traveled his world, investigated every tunnel, and felt the cool evening air brush past, cooling his hot wheels as he raced every stretch of the tract and rounded every turn. He is at peace as he rests among the stars, but you my friend have not traveled far or long enough and must continue on your way.