Yet Another View from a Rest Stop
The View from the Road is usually one picture which tells a story, on its own. This month, I offer you a series of photographs, which on their own very much tell a story; but which viewed together, as they were shot, offer a much more complete story. A story which I believe should be told.
While you may begin to think that I am spending an inordinate amount of time at rest stops, and perhaps I am, given the current state of affairs in the United States and around the world, I often wonder if we are engaging in relevant dialogue. Thus, instead of a Happy Halloween yard display, which I will save for next year; I ask you to ponder what happened here.
We pulled into a rest stop, and as I got out of the car to walk Merry, yet again, I spied something up ahead, which drew me to investigate. As I approached this abandoned cart, from the right side, I immediately started to wonder about what had happened.
Why were all these things left strewn about? I paused to look in the containers, which I imagine either the owners had taken out, to see what could be salvaged; or perhaps some other person, just like me, had gone through them, looking for something of value. I could not help but see the children’s crayons, books, and toys. There were household cleaning items and food stuff, which I too would be moving from one house to the next. Why abandon a bottle of fabric softener in my old house when you will need it in your new house? I would have put the fabric softener, oven cleaner, and mop bucket on the moving truck. I would not leave behind the trash cans or garden hose; they would have to be replaced. If there was limited room, what would I need in a new place? Someplace to sleep and to sit, something to entertain the children, a few dishes, and personal items, like shoes; this cart appeared to be over-loaded with necessities. Was it an unplanned and desperate move? Had there been no time to strip the sheets or were they left on the mattress to protect them, as the five dollars demanded for a plastic bag, large enough to cover a mattress, was just five dollars that could not be spared?
But what happened? I turn the corner and I see the culprit – a tire ripped to shreds. The tire rim is badly bent; but there is a spare. Why did they not change it? Are they coming back? Have they gone for help or have they given up? Was it just too much to try and unload the cart to change the wheel? Can I hope that they were lazy people carting things that they had found in a yard sale, which meant nothing to them? It just does not seem to be the case.
The cart reminded me of those abandoned covered wagons, of the old American west, whose wheels became stuck in the mud or whose weight would not allow them to be hulled over too steep a mountain; perhaps even the carts pushed and pulled by some poor souls trying to escape a modern day war or pogrom. The worldwide economic crisis is real; and unlike past financial downturns, we now live in a mobile world populated with electronic devises, that are capturing an unfolding crisis. We are out of plausible deniability.
