Barcelona Estacio de Franco October 2019
Numbered platforms, nameless people.
Coming and going as they please, or as they must.
For every departure, an arrival.
From a short distance I observe those on the platforms coming and going.
I am a stranger here, but am a fellow journey maker, so there is a momentary affinity of sorts.
Even the sweeping ironwork of the grand station roof speaks of the lines and curves of travel.
There is wonderment in such a place, but always anticipation of the next destination.
For we must keep moving…