I slept relatively well; I slept in late in my top bunk. I love sleeping in trains; the rocking of the train is soothing even when it sends me careening into the safety webbing. Waking up is a delicate process; using the toilet requires the other person steps out for a moment and pulling the beds back up requires some acrobatics.
As the train pulls out of Erie, Pennsylvania, I try to capture what I see, but things flash past me too quickly to capture it all. Warehouses tagged with spray paint, often artistically. Ailanthus, which can grow anywhere, lining the tracks. Old retired engines in a train graveyard. And then the country, where grapevines grow in endless rows and evening primrose lines the tracks.
The trip goes as fast as it needs to; we have another three and a half hours before we get to our destination. The rocking of the train lulls me into a trance. No worries; sometimes I just have to do nothing.
Bonus: Can anyone identify what song the title of this post comes from?
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