sidelined

Over the weekend, I found a portion of a freight train, sidelined, engineless,
going nowhere, and yet with so much to offer, carrying materials to make so many things.



How metaphorical, I thought.

A shiny new padlock on the rusty point-switch prevents anyone without the key from moving those cars onto the main line.



Here's the last car. A person can climb right up onto it, if she's inclined. There's no one to see her do it but the siberian olives, aspens, and black willows.



If she did, she'd have a high vantage point from which to view a sign, telling her where she is.



Then it would be time to retrace her steps, past the siberian olives and the aspens. They make their home in so-called waste places.



I love those places.