Some days, I wonder how much longer I have in my 2005 Scion Xb. It is nowhere near 200,000 miles, but has a precarious “Check Engine” light that has made recent appearances, despite trips to the mechanic. It has a couple of slow leaky tires that I will most likely have to get replaced before my next inspection. It was clipped a few years back by a truck that crumpled the driver side rear wheel well, but other than a small cosmetic blemish or two, it gets me where I need to go.

I found this abandoned train on Houston’s East End one day while exploring. It had long been stripped of most of it’s working parts, left to stand still in the sun, tagged by local graffiti artists. What once was an icon of transit was merely a relic of what it once was.

As I start this week of spooky posts, related to the things that we fear, I also think that overcoming fear is easily as important.

What I remembered about this urban find was that in the middle of an otherwise slump of trying to find new content, this engine just appeared. Like, maybe, this abandoned train was well past it’s days of powering long trips across town or the US, but that it arrived here to be able to speak to me.

The track is The Traveling Wilbury’s “End of The Line”. For me, this photo site drew less for me to fear than to learn from, but we’ll see if that holds true as the week progresses.