slop, yeah i know haha.
part one of ten, incomplete by all means.
The trains worked their way towards the foothills on a course to the bridges and passes, over and along the frozen granite, ice packed stone, and the massive drooping evergreen branches holding the weight of the gathering snow. Barreling through to the other side of the mountain range, and from there I have no idea, south/southeast I guess; carrying everything from; grain and livestock feed; fuel, dog food, or hallowed rusty train cars that are to be relocated. It would be an amazing job at times, being an engineer on a train, staring down the lights at night, staying on a perpetual course which you have no control over.
Imagining the snow gliding into the wind shields, swooping and creating a false sense of motionless, I can relate to that in ways. The thought of why the trains do whistle comes to mind regularly, or blow their horns other then to announce an arrival or departure; do they have signals like Morris Code? Most of the horns I hear do seem random. The echo of the whistles bouncing down the valley catching others ears in other places, is a thought or a mental image that comes to my mind often. Do they also really hear the whistles call, the echoing, the sense of wonder about what else is out there, and how one sound echoes off to many, as our lives do as well?
Sometimes, I think about staying up all night and catching a train passing in the morning, going to sleep, and then waking up having no idea what time it is, or where I am, or what direction I’m headed. I really do want to, and don't have anything here, at least nothing worth coming back to, except my sister.
Home feels very different, new, after being gone long enough, sometimes a place just draws you, or strikes you as home, some people think its where your heart is, others just say its where you lay your head. Those people have found theirs I guess, and everyone seems to have a different opinion. A person’s home says a lot about who they are, and how they define a home does as well, I feel the need to have a home, where I'm comfortable and feel like me. Hopping a train with nothing except for what I need will surely bring out me, who I am and how I actually go about life as a guest, in a world that I feel a welcoming right and need to make my self at home in.
Maybe I will hop a train; I will ride to the Black Hills area in Wyoming, then crossing into South Dakota eventually winding up in the BadLands. Once I feel comfortable enough I will jump off, and head south from there. My point of reasoning, the beginning of my new life, or my awakening could start in the four corners. Any spiritual aspects associated with that area are not my motivation, but being able to step foot into a corner of each region would be thrilling. After deciding, and walking away from such great masses of land and entering another will be a lot more then thrilling, it will be my moonwalk.
I will fallow the draw of the earth and have only myself, lost and timeless surrounded by the wide open unknown as far as the eye can see. It seems all the eye could see is what's in you, what your deepest thoughts are. Thoughts uncovered by wondering alone through out the unchanging grey sky, the rugged rocky terrain, tumbling rivers, and wind shaped canyons, buttes, and spires. From there I will make my way into the prairies with its once golden or green, but now faded knee high grasses left over from the summer.
I will follow the wind, let it push me along, moving with it, following the waves of grass watching it bend towards, then passing around me pointing the way - my way.
part one of ten, incomplete by all means.
The trains worked their way towards the foothills on a course to the bridges and passes, over and along the frozen granite, ice packed stone, and the massive drooping evergreen branches holding the weight of the gathering snow. Barreling through to the other side of the mountain range, and from there I have no idea, south/southeast I guess; carrying everything from; grain and livestock feed; fuel, dog food, or hallowed rusty train cars that are to be relocated. It would be an amazing job at times, being an engineer on a train, staring down the lights at night, staying on a perpetual course which you have no control over.
Imagining the snow gliding into the wind shields, swooping and creating a false sense of motionless, I can relate to that in ways. The thought of why the trains do whistle comes to mind regularly, or blow their horns other then to announce an arrival or departure; do they have signals like Morris Code? Most of the horns I hear do seem random. The echo of the whistles bouncing down the valley catching others ears in other places, is a thought or a mental image that comes to my mind often. Do they also really hear the whistles call, the echoing, the sense of wonder about what else is out there, and how one sound echoes off to many, as our lives do as well?
Sometimes, I think about staying up all night and catching a train passing in the morning, going to sleep, and then waking up having no idea what time it is, or where I am, or what direction I’m headed. I really do want to, and don't have anything here, at least nothing worth coming back to, except my sister.
Home feels very different, new, after being gone long enough, sometimes a place just draws you, or strikes you as home, some people think its where your heart is, others just say its where you lay your head. Those people have found theirs I guess, and everyone seems to have a different opinion. A person’s home says a lot about who they are, and how they define a home does as well, I feel the need to have a home, where I'm comfortable and feel like me. Hopping a train with nothing except for what I need will surely bring out me, who I am and how I actually go about life as a guest, in a world that I feel a welcoming right and need to make my self at home in.
Maybe I will hop a train; I will ride to the Black Hills area in Wyoming, then crossing into South Dakota eventually winding up in the BadLands. Once I feel comfortable enough I will jump off, and head south from there. My point of reasoning, the beginning of my new life, or my awakening could start in the four corners. Any spiritual aspects associated with that area are not my motivation, but being able to step foot into a corner of each region would be thrilling. After deciding, and walking away from such great masses of land and entering another will be a lot more then thrilling, it will be my moonwalk.
I will fallow the draw of the earth and have only myself, lost and timeless surrounded by the wide open unknown as far as the eye can see. It seems all the eye could see is what's in you, what your deepest thoughts are. Thoughts uncovered by wondering alone through out the unchanging grey sky, the rugged rocky terrain, tumbling rivers, and wind shaped canyons, buttes, and spires. From there I will make my way into the prairies with its once golden or green, but now faded knee high grasses left over from the summer.
I will follow the wind, let it push me along, moving with it, following the waves of grass watching it bend towards, then passing around me pointing the way - my way.
