The electric smell of the train yard slowly fading as I enter the grove.
It is lee here and the sun makes the air vibrate with the anticipation of early summer.
In a glade there are the ruins of an old stone house.
Some kids (I guess) have gone through the trouble of dragging an old, massive wooden park-bench here.The modern smoothness of the bench looks sharp and oddly offensive against the old jagged stone foundation.
