One Picture One Story

The rumour about the high pitch reality of a Denver industrial district could be a rumour in a hurry, and it was a lie today. It was mid-May, however, and the air was bitter and thin-oxygened, as in the Colorado Front Range, and snowing. The picture symbolizes the middle of the season. The snow falling in Denver was heavy, wet, and wanting to cover the gritty, oily parking lot, the asphalt, still recalling a recent thaw, opposed it, however, and a film of slushy snow was formed instead of covering the parking lot.

The depot, with its metal-sided walls, was as ancient an outpost as had been seen on the expanse, the walls being of cold-water blue, almost in the monochrome sky. Great 1 lying down was only to be viewed through the drifting white veil. The ugly-looking Mack in the foreground, on which the VK-118-2023 was written in shabby letters on the door, was standing around, and the grille was dusted off with snow, as though it were preparing to receive its weather. Another smaller truck, which was some distance off, was little more than a figure in the haze, and parked by some pallets, which had been stacked.

The real one was the tire tracks in the snow and the haphazard trail of heavy foot tracks that were going off the pavement and into the open door of the depot. They were talking of a driver who had burst into the house just now, leaving a way of haste, or it was perhaps that he just wanted to get warm. The perspective of the painting is on the side of a more concrete loading dock loading dock that is darker and drier than the rest of the foreground, its sharp lines contrasting the melting mess. Slush heaps were stacked at the fringe and the only tint of color in the rest of the grey world was a bollard of yellow which was glowing.

The Mile High City had Tuesday yet another in May-where the weather could be forecasted to be sunshine, and the fact be that it was a snow-squall, and where the work had to be done, in spite of the weather.

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