Yesterday afternoon, just five miles down the road from us, a freight train derailed in the village of Denair. Derailing is common enough (according to one of the clean up crew I talked to) but rare to happen in one's neighborhood. The last time I recall a derailment around here was about twenty years ago. I wasn't as free to get around and take pictures then. Location of derailment and raising kids and working and going to and from school, and, and, and . . . all conspired to keep me from getting pictures of that one. And it was huge and took forever to clear. Denair's stretched across the north and south crossings through the village so it was easier to slip in and get the pictures.
Of course, asking permission to go here and there isn't in my vocabulary. People always say "no". So I walk on, keep my camera up and blend into the surroundings acting like I'm wearing a sign that says "I belong here". Of course, generally I don't and security generally catches up with me and invites me to go "wherever". In this case, it was the other side of the road (sort of like the proverbial chicken). Anyway, about the pictures - I took several. Here are the best of the group.
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