On Where I Live

I live right next to the train tracks. For many, this could seem like a special form of hell. For me, I love it (unless that one CSX engineer is working at 3:00am and decides if they must be up so should everyone else--then I merely love it a little bit less). I never fail to be impressed with how many cars can be moved by so little locomotive power. Some of the trains that roll by have one or two cars, others have nearly 100. It is so obviously the most efficient way to move things when two engines can seemingly glide 100 loaded coal cars with only minimal effort.

I also love it when I’m coming home and I see a train that is traveling in my same direction. I often tie my speed to that of the train so I can follow it side by side until I get home. Heck, sometimes I don’t even stop at my house I follow it as far as I can, before the road and the track diverge.

I find it frustrating how so much of the narrative on trains either refers to days gone by or is presented as a novelty for little boys. This feeling is underlined because many of my best memories were formed on trains—the Southwest Chief, the Coast Starlight, and the Empire Builder.

Trains are amazing.