Yesterday, our journey of discovery took us to far Northeast Denver, where suburbia finally gives way to some of the last real farm country. It's sad how much of it has been consumed by the hungry maw of the urban sprawl.
But it's always with a feeling of delight that I find these last enclaves of what once was. This kind of country reminds me of small-town southern Colorado where I spent the summers of my childhood.
I feel I know this country. I know it well. One is never so intimate with one's surroundings as in early childhood (particularly if one has no TV and lives half an hour's drive from the nearest town).
Another thing we had a lot of in Cotopaxi? Trains. The railroad line ran right through the middle of town. And this was a town with a population of 40. So trains have a special place in my heart, as well.
There's a kind of magic to having a place like this to yourself. It makes me a little sad that people don't seem to care enough to come see this sort of thing. But...selfishly, I loved that we had the run of the place. Not even an attendant in sight.
This just might be my favorite picture ever.
Here's a question for you: did you know where the term "smut" came from? Do we still have smut? Do we still treat it?