When does something, or someone, become superfluous? People, animals, and objects transition into something no longer regarded as valuable once age and damage set in.
I spend a lot of time in the woods near my home in north Florida, digging through old dump sites and collecting bones after deer hunting season ends. There is often a theme to the discards I find out there: a toaster next to a coffee percolator and a shot up refrigerator, a busted up typewriter with a ruined time clock, maybe a side view mirror and a piece of a car horn.
I pull these things out of the ground and imagine the stories behind them.