May came to a close and once again I waited for the train to work. The calendar said spring but it felt like summer. The trees lining the opposite side of the tracks were resplendent with lush green leaves. I stood in the calm of the morning on the platform. The golden, early morning light felt warm. Leaning back against a railing, I turned my face toward the sun. Eyes closed behind shades, I could hear the birds calling, the buzz of bees, a wind through the trees and the low murmur of fellow passengers here and there in light conversation.
Enjoying the moments of morning calm, I imagine somewhere out there the locomotive approaching. I imagine the train crossing the marsh under the now hot sun. Furious, powerful, brute, the locomotive thunders blindly down the track, startling birds out of the tall grass and cattails. The train thunders through the still morning; calm returning in it’s wake.
Back in the here and now, I look at my watch. The train should arrive any minute. I strain to hear the first sound of the juggernaut. What will be the first, distant sound I hear of that approaching cacophony? I imagine I hear… something. A clang perhaps? But I’m wrong. There is nothing but birds and buzzing. Then there it is. The first few clangs of a bell. Then the whistle. I am surprised how far the sound of the bell travels in the still calm morning air.
As the train approaches the platform my calm morning disappears. I can feel the presence of the locomotive beast until the banging and clanging, whistles, hisses and thumps are sonically overwhelming. And screech of breaks.
It’s says something about me as a human that I willingly get inside the beast.
And leave the beautiful morning behind.
copyright 2018 Christopher Donahue