Ode to the Train

I grew up living in a house that sat about 1 1/2 blocks from a major train thoroughfare into the big city of Atlanta.

From the time I was in the first grade to the day I got married, I could lay awake at night and hear in the distance the sounds of the click clack of the trains running over the tracks, the train horns in the distance growing louder as they approached and then fading off into the distance after they passed, the squeaks of the breaks and the bumping together of the train cars themselves.

After I married we lived for a short time in an apartment far from the train tracks before moving back to that same neighborhood I grew up in. There we lived for the next 12 years and again I enjoyed [yes, I said– enjoyed] the sounds made by trains passing in the night.

In the mid 90’s we moved to the country– again far from the train tracks. We lived there for several years before moving to the house we currently reside in. And guess what? The house we currently reside in, where we have lived for the past 8 years… is about a block from another set of train tracks. Funny how that happened.

When we moved into our current house and once again I could hear those train sounds at night, mostly the click clack of the trains running over the tracks and the train horns in the distance, I realized how very much I had missed those sounds I had grown up with and enjoyed as a young wife and mother. And as odd at it might sound, I truly, truly enjoy each night hearing them. They are a great comfort to me and carry me back to those days on Clairmont Avenue when the world was much simpler, time slipped by much slower, the days when little ones ran around in just a diaper because it was so warm and we had no AC, when bringing home groceries meant climbing two flights of stairs over and over again with heavy bags in your arms. Ah… the days of growing up and being a young mom — those were the days.

And the train… the train has always been there.


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Psalm 19:1-3

"The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork...There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard."

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