Timeless and Timed

 


What can weeds and platforms tell us?  In the weeds are relics of an old empire of electric power.  The stubs of catenary poles peak out just above the wild flowers and brush.  On the ground, a path of concrete still defies the ages and arcs out and away from the old Butte station whose tower rises against the Rockies.  Adventures and journeys started and ended here, the fears of men and women and the courage in their face played out daily in the lives that intersected those old days.  

Though we spend much of our day acting as our own gods, signs like these remind us that the world has kept spinning forward.  We are not gods at all, but mortals who spend but a few days beneath the sun.  Though we think very highly of ourselves, we forget our weaknesses.  The relics here remind us of those fears and weaknesses, while the mountains look on in a timeless pose that is always present.  

Unlike the mountains, the named passenger trains have come and gone from this place, electric locomotives with them, and then finally the railroad itself.  There are no more stairs to climb into a Superdome, and no more windows that show a city slip away as the Olympian Hiawatha makes its pull.  These were daily occurrences but all are now lifetimes away, vanished.

How much courage does it take to build something like a transcontinental to the west?  And what fears cause its demise?  But, perhaps, the real fear is that if something like the Milwaukee Road can be removed and forgotten then there is nothing sacred nor safe in our few days under the sun.  What is meant to last forever and the things we take for granted are not timeless but timed.  Only the mountains look down in an unchanging pose.

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