I waited, and it grew cold...
...no lonely whistle sounded, and the trees offered no counsel. As the snow fell, wispy hands caressing my face while I stood and shivered, I wondered just how far it would have taken me anyway.
Down in the valley, the river chuckled and hissed, content to be on its way.
Photo Credit: Irish Gumbo
Posts
Oh wow. I love the yearning of train tracks and possibilties.
ReplyDeleteHi, what's with the mist of melancholy surrounding this post. I loved the thought of you imagining where the train would have taken you. That was a beautiful post.
ReplyDelete"...the trees offered no counsel."
ReplyDeleteSeems like they only do that when they have leaves. Perhaps nudity makes them too self-conscious to advise.
How many steps until you get around that bend that disappears behind those trees?
ReplyDeleteThis post and that photo sums up today perfectly. Thanks.
ReplyDeletelonely is an addiction....
ReplyDeleteThere it is ... the lonely stretch of my job. Oh the rails they are a calling!
ReplyDeletenamaste!
I like to watch the trains go past and their whistle is so mournful.
ReplyDelete