It always seems like we look at baseball — my favorite pastime — through a filter of time. It’s measured in terms of records, how long they stand, and the parade of aged heroes, revelling in the wonderful accomplishments of youth. And with the resurgence in throwback architecture in recently built ballparks, the haze of time is thicker than ever. Yes, new records are being set and broken, and re-set, and the heroes we’ll talk about seeing in their prime are still playing the game I love so much. The game, though, is a reminder that although there’s clock in baseball, baseball lives by the passage of time.
A few days after a big snow, I visited the Museum of Transportation in St. Louis MO. The snow had settled between these railroad tracks, making a nicely contrasting scene.
Tracks in the Snow is available through my online gallery in a variety of sizes.