It’s a part of me…

Darn it!
The old steam locomotive
Even though I tried a new route, hoping to avoid the train this morning, I still got caught.
I sit here, watching the train go by and admire the graffiti written across the cars by some enterprising youth. I wonder where each rail car with came from, and where it was doing, what cargo it just might hold (obviously it was a long train). The last car goes by and the gates go up with a clamoring of bells and flashing lights. I realized trying to avoid  trains is impossible for me.
My reflections have led me to realize that my life has always had trains in it in, one form or another.
When I was a little girl, my father and grandfather both worked on the railroad. I can even remember my father bringing home a dog one night that had been abandoned along the railroad tracks (my mother was not pleased over that one!).
I have other memories of the railroad. From the sound of a wheels on the rails or the howling of the whistle, trains have always been in my life. Even as adult. My first apartment  was within hearing sound of the railroad and every house after that, we were near a track or we had to wait for the train.  I could always hear the railroad in the background of my busy day.
When I think about it,  the railroad has always been part of me, either waiting for it or listening for it, it’s always there. It’s rather comforting to have something so consistent in your life, something that’s part of your past–part of the history of our country and part of the history of my family.
The old steam locomotive
So the next train that I have to wait for I won’t sit and drum my fingers on the wheel. Instead, I’ll sit and remember with fondness how the railroad impacted my memories.
And if the train is long enough, maybe I’ll even jot down some notes for my next blog!

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