Watch the sad, final moments of a crusher-bound heap

Automotive wrecking yards are good places to reflect on the real-world values of heavily depreciated vehicles versus global current scrap-metal prices, and to see which cars have suddenly had the fix-it-versus-total-it line moved by insurance companies (the early-21st-century Subaru Legacy Outback, for example, appeared in large numbers in high-turnover wrecking yards just during the last year, as fairly minor collision damage on these cars is no longer worth fixing). You'll see the things that a car's last owner does in a desperate attempt to sell (or at least live with) an increasingly decrepit heap (as we learned in "Repo Man," you really will find a Little Tree in every car). During a recent trip to a San Jose, Calif., yard, I encountered this sad yet strangely compelling scene.

In the background, torn-up bits of dead cars were dropped into the shredder, while a chilly San Francisco Bay Area early-spring wind twists a Vanillaroma Car-Freshner and a yellow plastic rosary.

I capture a fair number of scenes like this, and someday I will assemble them into a panoramic video installation piece that will take the art world by storm. Here's a '67 Lincoln Continental with plastic-bag side window undulating in a Colorado junkyard breeze.

An Orange Zest Airwash Little Tree twists in a strong Oakland wind.

Contrary to popular last-owner-of-car belief, a New Car Smell Little Tree won't help you sell your hooptie. We shall now study this phenomenon from several angles.

By Murilee Martin