Old Trains

Hello Friends,

I'm sorry it's been so long since my last post. Don't be too excited, but I got an internship, it's not a design job, but it's with a great company and I feel very at ease. I'm getting used to my sack lunches and early mornings, as one should once school is finally over for good. The people I work with are smart and fun and really interesting people. But the best thing about the intern is my morning walk. After parking the car in a lot ten minutes away from the office, I have a beautiful stroll along green ivy and old train tracks. Often trains coming roaring by and you can see the old steel wheels grinding into the metal tracks, it's a peaceful morning. Across from the tracks are graffitied abandoned warehouses with broken windows and birds sitting atop, whistling along to the wind. I leisurely walk down some steps, head through a "no trespassing" gate, pass a few buildings here and there, and finally come to the office doors. But there's nothing like, for example, today, such a cool morning, walking along the blue concrete walls and thinking about my day, what it will bring, and life as I know it. 

One train in particular caught my eye, and I couldn't help but stare in amazement. There was all but a little yellow paint left on it, its rust twinkling in the sunlight (end of day) and yet, it carried with it this nostalgic feeling of my childhood. The house I lived in for years growing up, we lived in front of some train tracks and I remember excitedly finding pennies or whatever coins I could scrounge around the house to place them on the warm tracks. My ear sometimes sweeping the against the sturdy grey metal, listening for the far off sound of breaks and metal on metal, the weight of the wheels crushing firmly into the earth. Trains make you wonder about the world. What else is out there besides good ole' Atlanta? Where is this train going and have I been before? In early America, trains were a means of freedom. Hank Williams, a true hobo at heart, envied the conductor, who got to escape from the world, and just ride, ride, ride. Sometimes, I wish I could just hop on a train and let it take me to an unknown beautiful place. Sitting in the boxcar, air in my face, and my worries just blowing away. But then again, if I knew that life, would I dream for the one I have now? One with stability, and friends, and family, and a place to call home? Maybe so. 

And now, something else about trains from another poet's heart... "The trains roared by like projectiles level on the darkness, fuming and burning, making the valley clang with their passage. They were gone, and the lights of the towns and villages glittered in silence..."

- D.H. Lawrence