part of my
belated 40th birthday present involved riding train number 11 (the
coast starlight) all the way down to san francisco. after eighteen hours of riding, here's what I know: I love trains. I think they might be my favorite way to travel. and friends, I could not tear my eyes away from the window. I could not. I stared out that train window until the sky turned black and there was nothing left to see but the dim neon lights of the occasional small town we passed through. I did not sleep much but I did make a list of a few things I saw along the way. well, of course I made a list. I made a list because it's what I do. but also, I made a list because I want to remember.
things seen:
1. bright blocks of trainyard graffiti
2. birds swooping in oblong patterns
3. golden magic hour light and the
willamette river
4. cobbled-together shanty towns
5. a woman waving from her back porch
6. the insides of a few dimly lit dining rooms, the glare of tiny televisions
7. a rainbow of plastic fruit crates
8. a field full of bright yellow tractors
9. a brilliant pink sky
10. a spectacular jumble of electrical equipment
11. nothing but darkness for what seemed like hours
12. small town neon
13. train passengers scrambling off the train to smoke
14. the insides of a long grey tunnel
15. finally, a sliver of moon
16. and then eventually, milky white light and the beginning of a new day
17. an unfinished highway
18. a neon pink wind sock
19. the first palm tree
20. an unrecognizable word spelled out with pieces of driftwood
21. a swampy area filled with a dozen overturned grocery carts
22. tiny hopeful patches of blue sky
23. and then finally, a wide open blue sky
24. an old turquoise trailer and too many industrial parks to mention
25. the waters of
san pablo bay
26. more and more bright-colored graffiti
27. the beginnings of
oakland
28. a woman in a row boat
29. the san francisco skyline
I cannot wait to ride again. I. cannot. wait.
