I came to a place that I once saw outside of the window when I was riding the train. It was the place of a homeless man, underneath an abandoned bridge that once served as the old railway bridge, but no longer. Was I invading? Was I crossing over into private property? Trespassing into another's home? I couldn't help it; I don't know what drew me there to this place where messages of graffiti evoke a strong sense of desperation and hopelessness, but somehow telling me hope.