Several hundred yards down the track, the rain started to fall. So much for keeping promises. Pocketing my camera and exiting an unlocked gate, passing a sign saying "Class D Felony", I walked through neighborhoods to meet with Pops and JAH for dinner. A good meal is just what I needed. It usually is.
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| Pops. |
An hour earlier, wanting to shoot more than study, with camera in hand and music in ear, I wandered out. I was tired of sitting and didn't have time to wait; clouds loomed overhead, taunting an early arrival of late night storms. Walking with misplaced deliberateness past the restaurants on Walnut Ave. idly awaiting their dinner guests, I could think of only one place to go.
Sometimes getting on track is just a few minutes away.
Hopping the fence next to a train station turned cocktail lounge, I was back atop a familiar overpass. The clouds hung heavily, threatening nothing more than continued taunting, or so promised the weather report. |
| On Track. |
This wasn't my first time there this semester. I did so with greater clarity, or so I thought, this time.
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| JASH. May, 2012. |
Thanks for the kind words and your time.
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