Emptiness in Denver — by Cody Knapp
I photographed several photos while walking through Denver in the evening, taking in the somber emptiness of a usually lively city.
I stayed around the station hub at my train's last stop in Union Station for a while, getting a few photos within the train and a food truck or two awaiting customers outside. Few people came and went; the city felt like a ghost town aside from the few stragglers outside trying to stay warm, order their food, or smoke. I made it inside the station atrium, where a handful of bundled-up visitors were getting coffee, working, or waiting on their own within the rows of old wooden benches lining the center. Dim lit orange lights filled the room with a gentle haze, and a subtle smell of coffee and the nearby restaurants drowned out the scent of cigarette smoke from outside.
I patiently waited against one of the walls, watching people come and go, until I noticed an elderly gentleman working by himself at one of the central desks. The domed lights' soft orange hue illuminated his workspace just enough to see his face and hands focused on his work. I took a moment before snapping a photo of him, enjoying the peaceful silence for a second. After a handful of stops at station benches and alleyways, I made my way back to the almost empty trains. I've never felt such a sense of isolation within such a big city; the bustling chaos of Denver was brought to such a whimper, and I was able to experience that strange peace for just a moment.
