Simpler Times

We live in an urban area that is at least three miles from any railroad.  Nevertheless, sometimes when everything is right, I can lay in bed and hear the whistle of a train somewhere.  I don’t know with certainty where it is, because the railroad is about 3 miles from us in two different directions.  Once the sound comes into the bedroom after being filtered through trees, pollution, and various reflections off buildings and the like, it just “is there”.
I’m reminded of times long ago when living at home, I’d hear those same sounds as a child.  The Santa Fe (now the BNSF) went through our small town at high speeds (and still does).  We were on the other side of town from the tracks, but because of the size of the community, we heard each of about 75 trains a day very clearly.
Additionally, we were near a grain elevator, and a siding serviced it with rail cars.  Sometimes, especially during summer nights, an engine would lumber up the siding and do its thing.  Those tracks were less than 300 feet away from my bedroom window, and I would watch and listen as the brakemen coupled and uncoupled the cars, spotting them as required.
Some things, like the sound of a train whistle, are etched in our minds forever.  They bring back certain memories…some pleasant…some not.  The train whistle is one of those pleasant memories for me; I’m glad I can hear it even in the middle of urban chaos.  It brings back memories of simpler times and a sense of comfort and satisfaction.  Sometimes I need that.