Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Our Town

Last night, I hated our town. Specifically, I hated it at 2:30am, 4:30am, and 6:30am when the train came through town and felt the need to blast its horn for long periods of time, over and over and over.

I guess I should back up a bit and explain. The town we live in was built on the railroad. Actually the town was founded over 100 years ago, and was built on the lumber industry and our local lumber mill. But these things could not have been without the railroad that goes through town. That railroad allowed the town to prosper, and has done well by our city for many years. With the decline of the railroad though, its usefulness to our city has diminished, and is replaced by a nuisance. We seriously have a switching station that sits right smack in the middle of the city, and so when the train is changing out cars, it blocks the main road through town, sometimes for up to an hour.

Anyhow, this brings me to last night. The train doesn't USUALLY run during the middle of the night, or if it does, it is usually really quiet with little to no horn blasting, but on the rare occasion that it runs throughout the night (or maybe its the rare occasion that we have Cranky McCrankerston engineering the train), we get woken up several times by the horn of a train. Last night was just such a special occasion.

To make matters worse, Mike is pretty sick with a summer head and chest cold, and he was having enough trouble sleeping as it was. So when I would be woken up by the train, it would make me mad for not only myself, but also for "that damn train is waking up my sick husband".

So last night I hated our town.

Then this morning, I walked out my front door, full of bitterness towards our town and all that it involved, and I walked out into the perfect morning. The perfect morning that we don't get to enjoy very often in Southeast Texas. Crisp cool air in the 70's, the sun shining out of a brilliant blue sky with puffy white clouds, a gentle breeze blowing. It was the kind of morning that poets write about. The kind of morning that you think of when you hear "Colorado" (or at least I do).

Let me tell you, it took just one breathe of that perfect morning for me to not hate our town anymore. Yes, I am still tired from last night, yes, Mike is still sick, yes, I still hate the train in our town.

But the morning? This morning?

Perfect.

1 comment:

  1. The train would be so frustrating. Poor Mike. I hope he gets to feeling better soon. I totally hear you about the cool mornings in TX lately. This past summer was brutal. I was actually able to drive to work the last two mornings without in my AC on and the windows down. I love it! I am so excited for fall.

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