When you spend your days following train tracks, the past of your surroundings is unveiled quietly, laid out around you. The tracks run through the land, the ones safe to explore, or safe enough anyway, don’t lead to your future; they are a sidewalk for window-shopping through the past. You can follow and follow the paths that have been trail-blazed by others, without seeing anyone. But the remnants are there. The marks left by the ones crazy enough to have gone where you are now. The ones that started this hidden-treasure, hide-and-seek game. The tracks stretch on for a mind-numbing forever, they lead to the secrets that the earth holds. You have to follow them to find your way there and home. But maybe the tracks are your home.

— Marie Maier, BFR Staff