I’m not even sure why I like this image so much. Perhaps I love the fragility of the peeling paint against the strength of the bolt. Or maybe it’s just because it appeared on a well worn door of an old train in the Henry Ford Museum. The love of trains was passed onto me by my father. Watching them go by was always an exciting pass-time. Getting to see an engine and its caboose as it simultaneously entered and exited a mountain tunnel was a personal travel highlight.

I was at The Henry Ford Museum because of a group called Photowalks Detroit. Take a look at the pictures and join if you’re so inclined! It’s a great group of people and a fun way to experience photography at all skill levels.