Place

I generally don't have very good recall of my dreams, though I can often recall the "sense" of a place or overall feeling, but no real detail. My dreams often flow like a patchwork of random film clips from the silent film days, but with modern, seamless transitions that make it even more surreal. 

Riding the train from Richmond up to Massachusetts was a lot like having a dream, but one I could document on camera. Because I was alone and not engaged in conversation at all, I dreamily peered out the window for much of the time. The scenery was washing by, but unlike in a movie, I wasn't paying much attention to it and it was easy to become lost in thought while looking outside, looking but not really seeing. 

 Occasionally something would catch my eye and I would follow it, sometimes with my camera, until it was out of sight, then settle back into thinking about whatever, still looking outside, but letting it all just slide by. From Richmond to DC, the train travels at a fairly slow pace, so you have some time to see whats coming and get a good look at it. After DC, the speed of the train picks up a bit, so the scenery tends to blur together more in an even more dreamy way.

There is a lot of sameness: the train tracks along this corridor front a staggering portfolio of rusting, crumbling, graffiti covered industrial buildings, mostly from the early twentieth century. There must be millions of square feet of  abandoned three and four story brick masonry buildings with metal windows, smoke stacks, water towers, and external steam piping and tanks of all sizes. 

And every bridge you see makes you wonder how much longer it can stand, one after the other standing like relics that can't possibly be functioning still. Luckily, the industrial blight sometimes gave way to lovely river vistas or quaint small towns and farmsteads. There were also occasional signs of redevelopment of the dilapidated industrial buildings as some were either being rehabilitated or demolished. 

The last image is one of my favorites because how often do you have a bird's eye view of an afternoon ballgame? But more than that, it was so easy to place myself on that field, just like I was still playing Little League on a hot Florida afternoon. The train passed by the scene in less than a minute, but the image is still in my head, like I dreamed it last night. I am the kid at the bottom in center field.