All the world is a stage…
The land and the sky---
The lights and shadows and textures and movement that perform at random upon them, a ballet all its own that is perhaps out of step with The Rule of Thirds chorus line.
The land tells a story---
Of wind shifting the furrows, oats struggling in the fine sand, begging for just a pittance of rain to fall from the winter sky. The sand dropseed and alkali sacaton grasses, still dressed in their winter gold, sway in the brisk south wind.
Dreams of prosperity have called to the far and wide, and the Permian Basin has struggled to house them all. That, coupled with the grid failure in 2021 and the recent boom of AI data centers, has necessitated the construction of new electrical transmission infrastructure.
Numerous holes have been bored, concrete pedestals poured, and great steel towers lifted upright and placed upon a bolt pattern and securely fastened, all within view of ancient creosoted line poles that might harbor feelings of jealousy towards the new kid in town. Any resemblance to a Saturn V on Pad 39A at the Cape is purely coincidental.
The late evening sun rakes across the land and casts their giant shadows.
Winter is dying, but it’s not dead yet. The clouds are high in the cold atmosphere; thin and wispy, shimmering in the evening sunlight.
Yet April is close at hand, and the fury of the Cumulonimbus is not far in the future.
We didn’t come here with this image in mind, but we’re always on the lookout for opportunities.
Our intentions included the heft of 500 millimeters and sun glinting off the wires looping between the pole lines as we focused back west down the tracks toward Midland.
Alas, like the past four attempts, it did not develop.
This is our rally point shot; an 18-millimeter fallback plan; what to do when the train comes from the other direction.
Here, between Stanton and Midland, the single-track former T&P mainline is sandwiched between the two-lane blacktop of old Highway 80 and the busy Interstate 20 as it rolls across the very southern end of the South Plains, a gradual zone of transition where the Llano Estacado begins to morph into the Chihuahuan Desert to the west and south, and the limestone scarp of the Texas Hill country to the east.
‘Scenic’ or ‘pretty’ are not words to be used here.
But nonetheless, it is a stage for the trains to run through.
And who knew that the Union Pacific would call on a pair of alive-and-well 26-year-old SD70Ms to head up a fast westbound hotshot.
Kinda glad the other shot didn’t materialize.
But we’ll keep at it.
---RAM
Rick Malo©2026
Westbound. 7:22pm. March 18th, 2026.
Near Stanton, Texas.
Thank you!