The rusting mass sat entombed in a mass of rust, and I saw the shot in
a fleeting moment as the coach took me ever onward to a company team-bonding
day out at a theme park. Resting my forehead on the window, wearily not
caring about the shuddering vibrations from the engine through the cold
glass, I thought about taking the shot. It took me several months from
first seeing it, to actually go back with my camera, in which time, the
scene had changed, but not drastically; the shot was still the shot. I
took it. A few others for good measure and exposure / composition insurance.
I left, went back to the car, parked at the fast food restaurant next
door, thinking of that machine digging it's own grave. I didn't get any fast food, I just left.