Speaking of fences, I spotted something rusty but intriguing (and I think those two terms describe many of us) between the pickets of a wooden fence as I biked along Stadium Drive.
I stopped, took a closer peek between the pickets, stuck my camera over the top of the fence, and shot blindly.
Maybe one day that ’57 will shine like this one I saw on North Main.
Or maybe it will end up a Chevy on the half-shell, like this one downtown.
