I was driving through Lackagh when I saw this cyclist coming towards me from out of the fog. I quickly pulled over, grabbed my camera and managed to snap him before he cycled past. I like the atmosphere that the fog adds to the picture.
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars burn below me
Are you all alone
Are you made of Stone?
I used to be the main express
All steam and whistles heading west
Picking up my pain from door to door
Riding on the storyline
Furnace burning overtime
But this train don’t stop,
This train don’t stop,
This train don’t stop there anymore
Overhead wires. It reminds me of a maths question in school, if the angle of the isolysis triangle….