Rusting pipes

There's an old strip mall a few blocks away from our house that is home to, among other things, our neighborhood supermarket, video store, Tim Hortons (for coffee addicts), and library. It's your typical suburban strip mall architecture that was forgettable when it was first built, and is even less memorable now that its been worn down by a few decades of routine existence.

As Zach and I were out on our capture-the-fall-colors walk yesterday, we thought we'd reward ourselves with a stopover at Tim's. There's something nice about sitting down in the local coffee/donut shop on a quiet afternoon and chatting with your son about the pictures you just took and the ones you've yet to take. It's the kind of moment that doesn't happen as often as it should, and I was reminded yesterday that I need to increase the frequency.

As we approached Tim's, we walked along the side of the strip mall, and passed an otherwise forgettable assembly of pipes. They're slowly rusting into oblivion, yet they continue to - somewhat frighteningly - supply natural gas to the entire facility. We've never stopped to look at them before. But in the late afternoon sun, Zach liked the forlorn look of them.

He's learning an important lesson early: Even when the architecture is old and forgettable, there's always something of interest to capture. Sometimes, it just takes a little digging.

Your turn: What's the first thing that comes to mind when you see images like these? What is it about them that attracts your attention?