I think I see it different.

Meant to be read while "Slow Car Crash" by Headphones is playing in the background.

There's a lot of beauty that is taken for granted. I can look at an abandoned, rusty truck on the side of the road, buried beneath pine needles and unkempt grass. and be captured because of the way it looks in the autumn light. I see the character the orange-brown rust, and I see interest in the defeated machine.

I stop walking and I wonder to myself, what is the story? Maybe somebody used to love this piece of junk... Maybe this forgotten monument used to mean something. Maybe it was some boys first car; his right of passage into freedom. Maybe this is the same car he drove to pick up his first date. Did his friends used to sit in the back, loudly banging on the sides and screaming at each other through the windows? Did he ever lay on the hood with anyone and stare at the stars? Did he ever drive home, drunk from a party? Did he take it across state lines and visit far away places he used to dream of going to?

Maybe, it just couldn't last. Maybe someone was supposed to fix a broken carburetor, but never got around to making the trip. Maybe money got tight, and he had to sell it to somebody who couldn't love it as much as he did. Maybe... He just didn't need it anymore.

I will never know this truck's story, and there might not even be one nearly as good as I imagined. I'm okay with that, though. I see the beauty in it, and I like to think I can see the beauty everywhere.

Don't take anything for granted. You will miss so much if you don't take a second's time to open your eyes. And God forbid it disappears before you thought to look.