There's a train that passes through the village I grew up in. I lived near the
track and every day as it passed back and forth ,over the bridge, with a roar
and rumble i would imagine stepping onto it and dissappearing off into the
world, each stop beyond the horizon a new and exciting possibility. I dreamt I
would be free. Too soon I grew up and dissappeared off into the world and
somewhere along the line I lost vision of the dream. Had it faded or could
something so ethereal and idyllic even ever exist. I had sough freedom
through independence but in reality I had shackled myself. I came to realise i
had already been free, free to love and live and truely be myself through the
support and love of those I had left behind. This picture was taken at 5am as i
had just returned home to the village. This time having come to love the silence of the bridge.
Photographer Diarmuid Brennan - Auditor
Posted by Photography Soc on Sun, 08-03-2026
