Johnny Cash, The Highwaymen, and Bridge Over the River Kwai, that’s what they remind me of. I know, never end a sentence with of, but I take poetic licensure here. And I’m not even sure I just didn’t make that term up. But back to the triumverate, there’s even more that they remind me of. The trains that is. They say there are twenty-two runs a day. Yes, you didn’t misread that. It’s two-two. We’re not here for eight hours duing most days but that means I can hear at least a dozen of them. And they’re not paced only through the day. The locales say they’ll lull you to sleep and in time you won’t even hear them. In time has not come yet. They get closer to me. The engines that is. I stare at them like a deer in headlights, only moving at the last vestige of time. Ahh, another quest. What shall tomorrow bring?
Larry,
I remember when our quiet country farm was invaded by the clink and clank of the railroad, and we hated it, especially when it slowed and it would be banging car after car……….and I never got used to it………..how’s that going for you……….
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