It’s strange, there’s something about railroad tracks that draws young men to them. I remember as a boy I often visited tracks not far from my home. The tracks ran through a wooded area of pine trees and palmettos, and I rarely saw anyone else around whenever I’d visit the tracks. I liked to sit on the tracks and think; I don’t know why. Maybe because I knew the tracks led to distant places where exciting things happened.
Anyway, I really like both photos I have posted here this morning, especially the top photo with its sepia-tones. The boy has such a wistful expression on his face. What’s he thinking about, something good or something sad? It’s impossible to know, but I really like the photo.
I rose when my boyfriend did this morning, around 7:30, and after I dressed in warm clothes, I took a three-mile walk on the beach near our house. The sky was overcast, the air damp and cool, and not many people were walking on the shore. At least the wind wasn’t blowing, so I was comfortable.
I came home, fixed breakfast, and then got down to the business of writing fiction. I wrote new material for over two hours, and now I’m done with my novel-in-progress for the time being. I have a gazillion phone calls to make, bills to pay, and errands to run this afternoon, so I’ll be a busy guy.
Have a nice Tuesday, everyone.