Last Friday woke up before dawn to catch one of two trains that would eventually get me to Utica, NY. New Haven still seemed sleepy even though the rush hour trains to New York were just minutes behind me. I like that time. Seems when I wake up in the morning for work the world seems ahead of me, even though it’s still considered early (at just after seven a.m.) so for a change I was ahead of things. When my family used to go on road trips, this was our way: wake up while it’s still dark, fumble around to get dressed, consume something sugary to give an extra start and get on the road. It’s been a while.
The train didn’t really start getting crowded until the next stop, so there were a few quiet moments before it got too noisy (and even then, it didn’t get too noisy. People keep to themselves reading the paper or a book or dozing off or watching the abandoned industry go by). I had a chance to witness the sun rise, something, again, I miss day by day by wanting those extra minutes in bed.
I feel so at peace on the train. When I was a baby, my parents would have to put me in my car seat and drive around town to get me to sleep. It’s the vibrations. The endless rocking. I suppose I never really got past that.