It is almost as if every time a part is removed, color is added to the skeletal remains. The result is a kind of surreal beauty in an unlikely location. Cemetery art.
Another beauty laying low in the junkyard. Many of us no doubt did have a father who drove a Cadillac. My father drove an Olds, but then he used to sell them and always drove something brand new. Before that he sold Fords for a bit and drove an Edsel for a time. Man that was one ugly car, but not this Caddy, which ruled the day, and lit up the night.
As if in eternal rest, a pastel shell of a car sits in a Colorado junkyard with a seemingly endless field behind it. Perhaps this beauty looks so comfortable because it came from the open plains, where it carried a happy and loving family on many adventures. Its work long since completed, it sits and reflects, aging with grace and beauty.