Pack

There is quiet solitude in the rail yards. I deliberately visit them in the early morning hours or late afternoons when shifts have ended for the day and no one is around. Being alone in the yards is exactly how I prefer to experience them. I am able to take my time, study details and allow myself to be moved by a subject. Occasionally, I stumble upon wildlife. Most often, birds of common species like pigeons or gulls that have perched along the tops of parked train cars and the power lines above. They are at rest and seem to be enjoying the same seclusion that attracted me. In my years of exploring rail yards, I have learned to look for these birds, as they are an indication that no one is present to startle them. Perhaps more accurately stated… No one present to call the cops on me. Far less often, I see feral dogs, coyotes and foxes wandering the yards in search of a meal. Whenever I see them, I pause for a moment with a sense of awe. Rail yards do not afford much consideration for any species of life. Hazards are everywhere. Aside from the obvious peril of a fast moving train, rusty spikes, broken glass and who knows what else could be lurking in the weeds and debris. The risk of danger is always just one misstep away. In all this ugliness though, something truly splendid is revealed: An unyielding will to live despite overwhelming obstacles and odds against survival. I cannot help but feel a certain bond with these creatures.