Mysterious Local

I had an assignment at 7:45 in the morning Thursday, with a following assignment at 9 am. I awoke expecting fog. There was some, but it was clinging to the ridge on the edge of town, instead of along the river. But as I was shooting my assignment the fog began to roll off the ridge and into the valley until it filled most of down town.

My assignment was short, and after I went to find the local. He was across the river, switching some cars. The morning sun was on him, and despite their faded paint, the Super 7 twins looked good.

While I was turning around, they dropped their cars and zipped across the river. Which made the shot I was hoping for impossible. I went back across the river, and the train headed south toward the Glass House, as Owens Illinois is known locally. It beat me across the river, but the fog was too thick to do anything except shoot through the bridge, which would have resulted in a big blobby triangle of light. And I couldn't get across the river in time anyway.

But I did get to the narrow spot where the Maysville Pike and the railroad come together, the pike slipping underneath via an ancient, rusting, center pier bridge that is the bane of local truckers. I could hear the train coming as I changed lenses, and as I ran across the road the triangle of lights appeared through the foggy trees like a UFO and the Super 7 twins and their two hoppers burbled toward me, their crisp lines softened by the fog. I shot wide, leaving in the foggy trees of the cemetery, the road, and the signs that hint at the narrow bridge. The fading blue B23-7rs rumpled past, the 4095's headlights and ditchlights casting long yellow rays through the thin fog.