Railroad Crossing

As is the case in many American small towns the railroad runs right through the middle of our downtown, which means that nearly everyone can hear the trains when they come charging through. Our house isn't far from a railroad crossing; the first three weeks that we lived here I heard every train that went by, day or night.

My dad says that he likes hearing the sound of a train moving through the night. I have to agree, there is something cozy about hearing the mournful sound, especially on a clear, winter night.

When Tukes and I stroll in the mornings his favorite place to visit is the "twain twacks" where we go to look and listen. Most of the time we don't see more than empty tracks stretching out from us.

This morning we were bound for home after visiting the tracks when we heard a faint locomotive whistle in the distance. In an effort to get to the crossing in time to see the train I whipped the stroller around and took off at a sprint. {Let me tell you that despite running fairly regularly I am not in the kind of shape to gracefully sprint while pushing 30 pounds of toddler. Tukes thought it was hilarious... so did the neighbors.} I'm happy to report that we arrived with a few seconds to spare, we watched the train, and Tukes grinned {while I tried to catch my breath}.