My last proper workday before the Christmas break brought me to the Vy facilities at Filipstad — a place where buses, trains, tools and routines overlap in a kind of industrial rhythm.
During my pause I wandered over to the train workshop, and there I found a crate filled with worn-out brake pads from the trains. Dozens of them, each one shaped by thousands of kilometres, weather, friction, heat, and the weight of all the journeys they once helped slow down.
There was something strangely beautiful in the rust and the patterns: a reminder of how even the most functional pieces of metal tell a story when they’re finished with their work.
A fitting motif today, I think — on the edge of starting my own slowdown into the holidays.
