• Jeremy Martin

The Train

Sometimes I get lucky. On a hot summer day driving down a back road in a small town, you catch a glimpse of a train stopped on the tracks. What else is there to do but stop, turn the car around, get out, walk up to the train and snap a few photos. At 109 degrees, in the middle of the afternoon, it's as if the summer breeze seems cool. The inspiration from the moment allows the mind to free itself of everything except the long train sitting perfectly still on a track. Across the high grass, being careful for snakes, I walk up and touch the large machine. I could crawl under it if I wanted. Suddenly, I realize the power of this massive box car and my mind wonders what it would be like to be hit by one of these things flying down the track. My heart begins to race, sweat begins to bead, eyes getting bigger, breaths become shorter, and the air seems hot now. I snap a few more pics and get out of there. Not satisfied, I run back for more until I have exhausted all angles.


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