Rusted Memories

A junkyard is more than rusted metal scattered and intertwined with the ever-growing forest around it.

Every car in the yard is saturated with stories from years before.

Trees have begun encapsulating and tearing through the elder cars of the yard.

Even after the abuse endured on the road and the torture from mother nature, the memories have never faded.

As the cancerous rust lumbers along the sun-scared body the memories stay embedded in each loose fragment of metal.

Modern cars are intermingled with classic cars creating a spectrum of preferences.

Tires have coughed their last puff of air as deep cavernous cracks weave across their faces.

Mutilated cars can be seen across the yard having sacrificed their last healthy pieces to allow fathers, sons, mothers, and daughters to keep their cars alive.

As years go by and the cars have long been picked over they begin to sink ever so slowly back into the earth.

Tangled and jagged pieces will claw their way up through the iron-soaked dirt.

Vibrant green moss will cling to whatever is left above the earth.

Nature takes back what was once its own.

Memories from those who have owned the car before may be buried with it but never forgotten.

Parts taken from these cars keep a fraction of these memories alive.

Until the car that was once saves now sits on top of the cars it once gained life from.

And thus the cycle begins over again.

A junkyard will be and forever has been a graveyard of captured memories and the birthplace of new memories.

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