Something about October and my brain don’t work well together. It is my absolute favorite time of the year, but it is the time of year where no matter what tricks I use, I can’t sleep.
Last night I was staring at the ceiling and I heard a train chugging through an intersection, the sound that instantly calms all my thoughts and puts me straight to sleep. When I lived a block from the Metro North line it was the most well-rested I have ever been, even if it meant that all glassware was subject to shattering on a daily basis.
The thing is, I live no where near railroad tracks right now, and I have no idea where the train came from last night. I have never heard a train at our new house, and now I am wondering if I made it up, or if *GASP* I confused a boat for a train. I must now search my neighborhood for any form of railroad, and if I find it, request three a.m. passbys every night throughout fall.
Travel
- THE railroad track is miles away,
- And the day is loud with voices speaking,
- Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day
- But I hear its whistle shrieking.
- All night there isn’t a train goes by,
- Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming,
- But I see its cinders red on the sky,
- And hear its engine steaming.
- My heart is warm with the friends I make,
- And better friends I’ll not be knowing;
- Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take,
- No matter where it’s going.
- Edna St. Vincent Millay
