The great age of the railroad has ended. Yet echoes of the railroad as a work place still can be heard, particularly in a town that had a famous railroad named after it. I found this abandoned caboose sitting in a rail yard near the old Santa Fe train depot. As a working tool, the caboose is a relic of the 19th century, a miniature house on wheels at the end of a freight train. This one has become a canvas for graffiti artists. It is hard to know where the past and present meet here – the original lettering on the caboose, signifying the name of the railroad, was a form of street art itself, a proclamation of identity and brand. Only today the brand has changed. This workplace is no more. The brand is submerged. The sides of this caboose have become a place solely for expression. My wideangle lens bends the image surrealistically. In the golden light of a summer evening, the graffiti looks more like street art and less like vandalism.