Chrome And Dust

Nothing about it is subtle. A grille the width of a doorway, a bumper polished to a mirror, headlights the size of dinner plates. It was built in a decade that saw no reason to apologise for any of that.

Sixty years on it's parked in the shade with branches growing across the wing, and it still looks better than most of what's on the road. Not because it's been restored to a standard - the paint has gone chalky and there's dust in every seam - but because it was designed by people who assumed it would last, and then it did.

Some things earn the right to age in the open.