January 20, 2001

This millennium's first dip into the wonderful art at Canada House brings up this one by Graham Forsythe. A powerful image which will be familiar to anyone who grew up in a small prairie railtown. Entrusted to our care, left behind by mother train to be filled with grain at our small-town pace, the boxcar would dwell among us for a week, whispering softly to young children of wondrous places far off down the line. I think now that these monstrous iron hulks must also have enjoyed these quiet sojourns where grass grew between the rails. Perhaps in rusty retirement they yearn for those bucolic days. Alas, the rails into Pendroy have been torn up these past two decades.
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