These are the brass handles of seats on an old street car in New Orleans. I took this picture because I thought of all the hands that have held on over the years standing in the street car waiting for their jump off spot. All the people that have actually sat on that very seat over 150 years before, and now me after them.. Some with a burden, some with much hope and joy, most going some where, so...me with no where to go.The street car carried them through the streets of New Orlens with the smell of french pastries and shrimp creole, the jazz music flowing out of the doors of local bars and attaching itself to the filigree ironed patios and cobble stone streets. A simple street car bench touched by so many lives.
