I listen to train horns daily. Over time, they're just part of the background; the horn, and rumble of engine, something not allowed to distract.
When the weather is right, and the morning is very calm, the train horn reverberates; echoes returning after brief seconds and the lonesome sound almost leading to moments of melancholy. The sound is truly lonely and leads to sobering thoughts.
When I was about 15 years of age, my grandmother died one autumn. We returned to Oklahoma for the funeral, which was surreal and my first experience with the loss of a close family member.
The night after the funeral, before I fell asleep, I laid in bed, thinking of the day, and enjoying the chilly breeze that wafted through the window by my bed. I don't remember my thoughts, but I remember the haunting sound of a train horn off in the distance. I sat up for a moment, looked out the window, and examined the yard in the dim light. A chapter ended in my life. I knew I would probably never return to the house; and never did.
So, I listen to train horns, examine my thoughts, and relive moments in my life. It's a good thing and leads to moments of solace.
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.
jescordwaineratgmail.com
Friday, September 11, 2015
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My Dad loved trains. He loved what he called the lonesome sound of a train whistle. The last time he stayed with me he was like a kid with a new toy. I live a city block from the railroad tracks. He got to hear the trains up close and personal. Said he thought he would like to stay so he could hear the trains every day. The sounds of a train used to be annoying. Now they are a reminder of my Dad. That is a good thing.
ReplyDeleteTrains fascinate, and they instill a feeling of a great expanse to be covered, while riding a train.
DeleteNice. I miss the late night visiting train from my previous house where we lived until 5 years ago. The subdivision is called Carriage Way, and is a small neighborhood of circular streets and cul-de-sacs that sit just off an east-west train track. I learned to ignore daytime trains, and if I did hear them, they were intruding. But at night while laying in bed, they were very soothing. Your story took me back there.
ReplyDeleteThe echo of a train horn is mesmerizing. It's such a loud sound to shatter the silence, but is reminds the world still turns and things are good.
DeleteThe summers of the early 50's, late late night, laying on Grandmothers sofa, while
ReplyDeletevisiting, windows open for cooler air, I hear the train whistle far far away, and quietly
go to the north window. The one facing Ramona Blvd. It's coming, I can feel the
rumble under my feet. The train roars past heading west, and I can feel the roar of
the beast in my entire body. These are my earliest memories of trains, starting
about 6 years old. I can't tell you how thrilled I am to now have a son who is a
rail road engineer, working for a short line, hauling grain in WA. Oh, I love trains!
I've worked around trains for decades. The powerful engines, the rumble as they work,and the calling of the road, make you want to climb aboard and go for a ride.
DeleteAhh, Chickasha. If the air was still and the night clear, one could almost hear every train that passed through the little town.
ReplyDeleteThat was the last time I went to Chickasha. It's on my bucket list to visit one more time before I'm gone.
DeleteThe last time I was there was '83...for a funeral.
DeleteWhen we were kids, dad and mom took us on vacation.
ReplyDeleteWe visited my dad's hometown, California PA.
We were in a vacation trailer and he parked us in the library parking lot.
The library turned out to be a converted train depot.
We were parked right next to the track.
Tyhe first night, we all thought we were going to die when the train rolled through town hitting it's air horns as it rumbled by us within 20 feet.
I still like to hear the train in the distance at night (in the distance) as it goes from Chicago to Detroit.
There's no other sound. Many don't pay attention to the horns, but when it's quiet, and the air is cool, the sound carries for miles; bouncing off distant building; a melodious echo
DeleteI linked to this.
ReplyDelete