in the cold

Yesterday we were driving with our friend Cameron on the north loop of the interstate past the huge scrap metal piles that fill the space between the highway and the river. He commented that it was an eyesore and a blemish on the cityscape, but I have always sort of liked the giant hills of rusting metal. I suppose it is a contradiction for someone who likes to paint living landscapes with no human influence, but I have often wanted to paint the rusted, peeling paint and mysterious strong shapes of discarded industrial metal. The passing conversation must have been in the back of my mind when we came upon this collection of disintegrating cars later in the day. We pulled over into the barren field where the cars sat, cold and lifeless as the trees around them.