Growing up in a farm town of the midwest, I learned rust was bad. It was the bane of every farmer. Guys who restored classic cars hated it, too. I assumed it must be a terrible thing. It has taken me years to reverse that way of thinking, but I now appreciate rust- especially when it is in an advanced state; it takes on a life of it's own. Not unlike a coral reef, a rusted object eventually changes shape and inevitably begins to house life. Spiders, and insects of every type seem to like all the little hiding spaces. Maybe they just appreciate a beautiful home!
Such was the case of this prewar 20" basket case I found the other day. It was wedged between two large granite boulders on a creek bank here in Baltimore county. I thought it might be something I could save, but quickly determined it was too far gone. Having been the one to rescue it, I was obligated to throw it in the back of the truck and haul it home. I took a few pictures, and thought you guys might see the beauty in it. My wife spent more than a few minutes trying to find just the right spot for it in the vegetable garden. "May it rust in peace", she said.
Mike.
Such was the case of this prewar 20" basket case I found the other day. It was wedged between two large granite boulders on a creek bank here in Baltimore county. I thought it might be something I could save, but quickly determined it was too far gone. Having been the one to rescue it, I was obligated to throw it in the back of the truck and haul it home. I took a few pictures, and thought you guys might see the beauty in it. My wife spent more than a few minutes trying to find just the right spot for it in the vegetable garden. "May it rust in peace", she said.
Mike.












