Thinking about Trains

I took a walk last night. It was a beautiful warm evening, and the sky and the few fluffy clouds were rosy by the time I left the house. The walk had two purposes. First, I needed the exercise, which brings "earned calories" to balance the calories I consumed at a fast-food place with my family! The second purpose was to find out if I could multitask while walking.


Of course, millions of people listen to music on their iPods or other listening device while they walk, jog, or run. Some people have a friend to walk with and so can carry on a conversation. I wanted to find out if I could read and walk at the same time. If a 45-minute walk could equal 45 minutes of reading time, how great would that be!


I set out with my new Kobo e-reader in hand. I had just started Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, by Arthur Conan Doyle. His clear thinking and explanations appeal to me. I set the font to a fairly large size so I would be able to keep my eye on the words as I walked. Indeed, it was not difficult at all to read and walk at the same time.

Past the park, around the corner to the east, turn north then east again--I even made an extra loop so I could continue reading. When I came to the bypass road just south of the railroad tracks, I heard the whistle of a train. I could feel the thunderous vibrations in the road. Standing and waiting for the train to pass, I thought of how many times as a kid I had counted the number of cars as trains sped past. Sometimes, I couldn't keep up with the train and lost count of the cars. As the triple lights of the engine came into view, the whistle blew again. I smiled and waved as hard as I could even though I couldn't see the engineer because the silhouette of the train was backlit by the glowing sky in the west.

As the train passed, the whistle blew two short sharp blasts to say "hello!" to me and acknowledge my wave.

There is something thrilling and satisfying about the deep, sonorous sound of a train whistle as the engine and its cars rumble past. That train was going slow because of the near-by level crossings. I didn't lose count; there were 23 cars.

Even though I've lived here a long time, I wondered where the train had been and where it was going and what it was carrying.

There is always a mystery about trains, but to be acknowledged by the driver of that great beast was somehow very satisfying.