Today I sat in the ditch beside the old rail bed and painted the Old Train Station which is located a few hundred feet from the Old House I painted yesterday. Since then, the Vandals have been throwing rocks at the unboarded windows of the Station and there isn't one window left unbroken. Glass lies everywhere on the ground.

What kind of people live here? Why does everything have to be destroyed when it is abandoned or unoccupied? I'm very down about the small regard that people have for others' property in the place that I have chosen to live.

You have to imagine the train tracks in the front of the station. This small place used to be a hub of agricultural activity with grains, cattle, lumber, and all kinds of produce being sent to others in the province. Near here are the remains of at least three old root cellars that stored potatoes and other vegetables, probably before putting them on the train. There is a confluence of two streams that make up the Keswick river just a few hundred yards from the Station.

(Back to Train Station)