Every season I go see my "beloved" truck; I suppose I sometimes call it a car unaware. What do I know? It is beauty in decay to me... I asked my friend recently why don't you go out and see it too, take some photos? He says because you have hundreds of them, why I need to go too?
I guess I see something he does not. That's ok.
The decay continues to mount and it seems rapidly to me. It's not a silent creeping. At least not any longer.
I am sad for the day that I will not have easy access to my beloved truck, still waiting for the perfect moment of lighting and season ... It's strange, but I enjoy this small pleasure ... Perhaps I've enjoyed the easy pleasure of having it nearby, always "there" ? Such a small comfort in a world always changing. Always tearing things down.
Photographers deal in things which are continually vanishing and when they have vanished there is no contrivance on earth which can make them come back again.-Henri Cartier-Bresson-