As I was driving along I would try to look at everything that came across my path to see if maybe I would like to try and find it again on my return trip home. Then I spotted a train, but not only a train a tractor was there too.
The train and tractor were just off the highway. I turned into the small drive and parked the car. Everything seemed to be strategically placed, but with the look of abandonment.
The train car was packed with things but I didn't dare go up and try to look inside. Who knows who or what would be lurking behind the windows.
I stood there for a while and just looked at the train and tried to imagine the life it had. Where had it been and what were the people like who inhabited it while going on a journey. I had only been on a train twice in my life so far.
The first train ride was in Chattanooga, Tennessee when I lived there. The train took the riders on a small tour of the city. I sat in the "colored" car, which was very nice, but it may not have been when those words were painted just above the seat. The wheels squeaked and the cars jerked as we rolled along the track. The second ride was in Morocco. We traveled to Tangier, my favorite city in the country. The train was packed with people and we were given sweet treats to eat by a fellow passenger. Oh the journey's we take and the memories we have of them.
