Friday, February 06, 2009

Window on a February Train

He sat on the train and watched the white and gray-brown world unroll.

The wheels on the rails clicked. Steam smoked from houses, and somewhere deer bedded in the patches of forest between.

He thought of himself. And people in his life. He let the threads flutter, not knotted down. That was something he learned.

And as dark water trickled by the highway near the station, headphones surrounded him with music like memories. He walked on the rising notes. Lifted. And lived far, far beyond the season passing by.


the walking man said...

Nice little piece of flash. I have always liked the comparison between the "music" of the wheels on a train and the correlation of music in the mind taking the adventurer on another road.

Anonymous said...

Sounds like a great place to spend awhile.

Catvibe said...

There is something so melancholic about train rides in literature. I've always loved trains. Time to just sit and ponder while you ride and watch the countryside going by. I love the last three lines here the most. I can imagine the music that is lifting him.

Wish we had a better system here, and more affordable, something equivalent to what India has (20 bucks to get across the country). I'd use it all the time!

Sarah Hina said...

A lot of currents here. With no fighting against them. That's a moment, a journey, to treasure.

It makes me want to tip my head back on a worn seat, and drift, too.

A jewel of a piece, Jason. I hope your train rides are always so good to you. :)

Charles Gramlich said...

I like poetry and prose that "suggests" things, things not quite understood but "felt." This piece does that very well.

Jennifer said...

"He let the threads flutter, not knotted down."

What great imagery! And how much we do knot things down.

Nicely done.

Jennifer said...

P.S. Jason, I forot to mention that the picture of the shoes on my blog was taken with my BlackBerry. Note the composition, the resolution, the viewpoint. I know, you are totally blown away. ;)

sawan said...

i felt i was traveling home!!

The Preacherman said...

So did I...if I knew where it was...

Karen said...

Nice! Living far, far beyond the season passing by -- a very nice thing.

Aine said...

:) Now that's a great way to escape winter! Close your eyes and let the music swirl spring and summer colors through your mind.

I love the image of thoughts as threads fluttering. I felt the sweet freedom of living and loving along with "him".

Anonymous said...

Walking Man, I've been riding the train for just about a decade now. I really think I'd miss it.

Aggie, there is a special kind of motion and feel to the train. It's a private escape for me each day.

Catvibe, very true words. I'll always remember the first time I felt rails beneath me. The Philadelphia area has a reasonably good commuter train system.

Sarah, I'm glad you felt a comraderie with the words. Yes, a treasure.

Charles, I'm definitely guilty of enlisting the reader in arriving at meaning. I hate handing things to readers (or having them handed to me) in capital, bold letters.

Jennifer, that's a smashing picture! The contemplation of the subject...mesmerizing. :) (Um, do you want to know a secret? The heavily photoshopped picture above is from my crappy cellphone camera.)

Sawan, then I did my job. Thanks!

Preacherman, maybe the most important thing to know is that it's not where you are standing. It's a place you are reaching for.

Karen, and a somewhat wistful thing.

Aine, that's a gorgeous image!! *sigh* Thank you for riding along wth me. :)

Hoodie said...

I'm glad someone is living beyond this season. I feel absolutely entrenched in it.

Thank you for the beautiful simplicity of this. I need simple these days. And beauty.

Ello said...

I really loved this piece. And the photo was absolutely perfect with it. In fact, I really loved the photo!

Meghan said...

Late to the party (as usual) but great imagery once again!

K.Lawson Gilbert said...

Train rides are magical - and that mesmerizing tempo. You have created that anew in these thoughts, passing by us like a train in the night.

Anonymous said...

Hoodie, I hope you are doing well. Caring for an infant is such grueling work. If a trip here can give you a moment of escape, I'm very glad to provide it. :)

Ello, lovin' the camera phone, eh? :) I just wish the camera in the phone was a bit better. I like having it in the city and being able to get shots without the whole shebang of the serious camera.

Meghan, it's not a party until you've arrived. ;) Thanks!

Kaye, it's been a while since I just took a moment of myself and plopped it on the page for a post. I forgot how freeing it was to do that. That morning seemed a perfect moment to dive in.