Wednesday, January 14, 2009
During the day, Mission Station bustles with the chatter of busy people getting somewhere or going back. But at night it's a study in hushed inactivity, silence broken only by an approaching train or a lurking photographer...
I like the way footsteps sound on the platform when the rest of the town has tucked in to sleep. Like Arthur Symons once wrote,
The night was very still; above, below,
No sound, no breath, no change in anything;
Only, across the squares of damp lit street,
Shooting a mocking double from his feet,
With vague uncertain steps went to and fro
A solitary shadow wandering.