Island in the stream... in These titles mean nothing.

(Written 10-16-14)

On the train.

In the dark.

Well the dark is outside. Inside it’s bright. Bright and a bit bumpy. We left at 7:11-ish and now it’s 7: 36-ish. I am typing on little blue Acer in notepad. I don’t expect there to be wi-fi and there isn’t. The young man across the aisle is getting entertainment from his phone but he is carrying his own connection with him. I and little blue Acer are islands in the stream. We are unconnected with the world. And that is fine. A good way to be.

The train is exquisitely roomy and exquisitely easy compared to air travel. I bought my ticket by phone after checking times on line. My ticket was emailed to me. Since my home printer is not hookup able to Acer, I went to the library yesterday to print out my ticket. I printed four copies - semi accidentally. I folded one up and put it in my wallet and wrote John’s phone number on it. I am cell phone less on this trip. I will count on him being there when I get off or will count on being able to find him.

We are approaching Winona. People who get off there are gathering at the center of the car. There is a smoking stop at Winona. People are advised to stay close by and be ready to reboard when the engine toots twice. I see lights and lit buildings out my window. There are friendly talkative girls - maybe just one. There is a woman train employee who asked us where we are going and who seems in charge of getting us off at the right place. She opens the door to let us off and on.
I’m wishing I’d brought a bottle of ice water. Next time I will remember. I did not prepare much for the trip. It feels casual. And easy. I did wash my hair and it is white and fluffy and long.

Train has stopped. I’m sitting on the left side which is probably the wrong side. The stations are on the right side, the door to get on and off is on the right side. The view of the people at the stations is all on the right side. I maybe could move across but it looks more crowded over there… so I’ll probably just stay here.

(Added later - cars have doors on either side, dummy. You get off on whatever side and station is on. On too.)

There are a lot of young pretty women with clean hair riding the train. Half a dozen or more got on in Winona. The talkative yoga instructor got off, either for a smoke break or because that is where she is going. I will notice whether she gets back on or not.

(Added later. She got off.)

It’s now 7:54. We are departing Winona. Announcer said - if Winona was your destination it is no longer. Just passed the Winona U. of M. football field - lit prettily. We pass many red lit street crossings.

It’s 8:04. And now it’s 8:20. We are somewhere between Winona and Red Wing. I do not have much sense of speed. Right now there are no lighted windows of houses out my own window. I do see road lights from time to time. There is a kind of rocking motion. Not extreme. A little more than gentle. There is a pleasant sense of space. And maybe of time too. Time elapsing as it does in the rest of life. Minute follows minute. They will add up the way they please. The way you and I please…

I have no idea of word count when I type this way. I’‘m counting on copy and paste to be my friend.
All along the watch tower I hear the sounds of gentle whistles. Murmurs in the night. The trains sound off to one another like animals exchanging scents. I am here and you are there, they say. It’s night and the moon is not full. It is a dark night and we are out in it. We are doing our jobs, fulfilling our fates.

The car is blue and white. White ceiling, white window frames, white paper towels on the headrests of the seas. Gray and silver seat frames, strips of lights along the aisles, backs of seats. The fabrics are blue, neutral dark blues, the pleated window curtains, the patterned seat upholstery. The carpet is either dark blue or dark gray.

There are a lot of lights. Little green ones in the silver strips that line the aisles. Ceiling lights along the center of the car. Indirect lights above the shelves above the seats. Those lights are also visible above the windows. A pleasant amount of thought went into designing the car’s interior. I don’t feel the need to be exceedingly grateful, but I like it.

The air is cool and warm at the same time and seems to be moving slightly across my face.
I have my wide double seat to myself. There is a lot of room between my seat and the one in front. It feels like we are going down hill. A little like a plane when it descends. Outside there is darkness.

The young man in the seat across the aisle is in his window seat now too. Still occupied with his orange covered phone. He wears new boots and a camo-pattern hooded sweatshirt. He told the woman whose job it is to see we get off at the right place that he was getting off an Minot, ND. I asked later if he was working in the oil fields. He said he was meeting his parents there who are in Canada hunting ducks. He is joining them for a week because that is how long he can be off work.

The woman whose job it is to see we get off at the right place has put blue postit notes above us on the racks. His says MOT and the one ahead of him says MSP. Mine must say MSP too. I told her I was going to St. Paul because that is where the Union Station is. SPUD - St. Paul Union Depot but it must be MSP.

I moved to look and that is what is says. I found my right foot the one I hurt coming out of the insurance office is sound asleep. I better get up and move it a bit.

It’s now 8:42. I went for a walk into the next car behind which was a lounge car with windows up into the ceiling and seats facing out.

I came back and worked on my sudoku.

It’s now 9:01 and we are stopped at Red Wing. It’s not a smoke break so we are moving again.
Red Wing is a beautiful old river town, perhaps the most beautiful. The most beautiful big river town for sure. Its name is lovely. It is the home of Red Wing pottery and Red Wing shoes. Red Wing shoes are still made here. The pottery works is now an antique mall. Red Wing has the most beautiful hotel - the St. James. It’s big and I would so love to stay there. I saw it tonight - half a block up from the town’s beautiful railroad station. It was on my side and I saw the people there. Waylon Jennings’ song - all the old stations - came to mind.

9:08. Motion again is gentle. No whistles. No lights. Well just a few lights.
The train in the Empire Builder and it’s on the old Milwaukee Road tracks. We are on a siding and a freight is pounding by southward on the right. We rock a little in its draft.

It’s 9:15. If you wish you can see this train leave St.Paul every night - a little after 10 pm here. . We just crossed a bridge. Out my window was the lighted outline of the arch of a road bridge.

It’s 9:37 and I’m thinking of putting the Acer away.But first more water, long and close outside my window, lit by orange lights.

Last updated October 18, 2014