It’s one of my favourite cars, the 928. The 928 S4, with the extra roundedness of the nose cone was my favourite favourite, and in my opinion one of the prettiest cars ever to issue from between Stuttgart factory gates.
I would dearly love one; but I know that ownership would likely be an emotional, time consuming money-pit, and as such I am ill-equipped as a candidate for custody of a big V8 Porsche. There’s a poignancy, then, every single day when I drive past this example that lives on a farm near me.
I first photographed it not long after moving into my current house, after chancing upon a faster, more direct route to work that morning which just happened to take me past the 928. At that point it seemed that it couldn’t have been there for that long, the grass underneath seeming to have been trimmed not that long ago, and evidence of some kind of attempt at protective covering. It looked like somebody’s “I’ll get around to it one day” personal project. Like so many.
Some months later, the snows came. It was on and off for a few months, the thermometer fluctuating between extremes of minus five and ten between the end of February and the beginning of April. Not that extreme by global standards, but enough to bring a thick white blanket over much of the country and bring everything to a standstill, as seems to happen every single time the white stuff falls: our country simply cannot cope.
Speaking of standing still, the Porsche hadn’t moved since that early photograph.
And that brings us to today. The car still sits in the same position, now shorn of any protective covering and displaying build up of condensation in those skyward-facing headlamps. The engine-lid has been opened at some point, but left ajar to aid access by voles, field mice and other rodents who will feast on yummy German electrical wiring if given carte blanche to do so.
The weeds have grown quickly and long, damp grass quickly consumes metalwork if left alone for any length of time; and the interior now finds itself home to an old central heating radiator. I hope this isn’t a sign of what’s to come; a favourite pre-scrapyard trick was always to stuff your car with whatever old metal you could find; washing machines, radiators, anything that would boost the cars weight and therefore value on that final trip across the weighbridge.
I’ll continue to pass it, ten times a week, and monitor its progress / decline; though I regret that the latter seems more likely.
(all images copyright Redusernab / Chris Haining 2013)