The freight yard was full with predominantly oil tank cars, hundreds of them. I killed a good bit of time reading the various tidbits of graffiti and writing scrawled behind by prior freight hoppers. After sometime I could hear the air breaks engage on the cars, clicking loudly in succession, becoming faster and faster, louder and louder, followed by a final tug and the screeching of the rail wheels moving against the slick iron tracks; time to leave, and perfect timing, as the sky opened to a refreshing rain.