Along the railroad tracks on Mass Ave, I slipped through an opening in the chain-linked fence to an old, abandoned foundry. The day was cool and beautiful and the air behind the fence and between the buildings was crisp. I stepped tentatively through low-lying shrubs and weeds. The broken gravel crunched beneath my feet. My skin prickled because I didn’t know what I would find. The railroad tracks attract the under-life and I could very well be walking into someone’s territory.
I was alone and vulnerable and nervous but it didn’t stop me from taking photos, like this one of a rusted mattress spring. I didn’t take as many photos as I wanted because of the uneasy solitude. I swore I would return with a friend.
The next time I went back, it was boarded up. I regret not having courage long enough to really explore the foundry. But I relish that I had enough courage to enter in the first place.