When I was 6, we took a cross-country train trip. Looking out the windows, I saw a huge pile of rocks on the edge of a farmer’s field. “Mommy, is that the Rocky Mountains?”. My mother laughed for years about that.
A very valid question from a 6 year old… such a sweet memory Glenn…am sure the Rockies, marvellous as they are, never did get as wonderful as that field!!
We used to go to the tracks, and sometimes we could find the little iron-ore pellets when an overloaded train had crossed the rough tracks at our crossing. We’d stuff our pockets with the pellets and use them for our sling-shots.
Ah.. to count the chains of train way
for nothing more than existing
well now.. is a meditation of
trains.. and perhaps
awakening
trains
of thought
in mind and
body balance..:)
So true Katie.. can never resist counting carriages when a train rushes past.. some leftovers from childhood I suppose..and just like you said..they unleash new trains of thought..thanks so much for stopping at this station for a while 🙂
THOUGHT PURGE 
It can be mesmerizing looking at trains passing by. Good thoughts, Thot!
http://imagery77.blogspot.com/2015/07/people-movers-in-many-places.html
Hank
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beautiful…
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Thanks Sumana 🙂
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ha – i like how you team up with the spring sun here for counting those wagons… nice
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Thank you Claudia. The light was perfect and suddenly this phosphate train came right through the desert… was quite a sight!
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Everything I love about haiku is in this poem–a complete painting, the season, the flow. Nice.
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Thanks so much Victoria..appreciate your comment.
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Sitting on that hill, counting trains. Sounds a delightful way to spend the day dreaming.
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Yes indeed… thanks so much for reading.
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Nice. Your poem is powerful with feeling. Loved it.
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Thanks so much Myrna…
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When I was 6, we took a cross-country train trip. Looking out the windows, I saw a huge pile of rocks on the edge of a farmer’s field. “Mommy, is that the Rocky Mountains?”. My mother laughed for years about that.
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A very valid question from a 6 year old… such a sweet memory Glenn…am sure the Rockies, marvellous as they are, never did get as wonderful as that field!!
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I have watched empty freight wagons pass sometimes at times at railroad crossings. When I am in a hurry, they never seem to come to an end.
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Sometimes there’ll be a little tea shop by the railway crossing… and they’ll bring cups of chai out to the car!!
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I can see that….lovely haiku as well ~
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Thank you Grace 🙂
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We used to go to the tracks, and sometimes we could find the little iron-ore pellets when an overloaded train had crossed the rough tracks at our crossing. We’d stuff our pockets with the pellets and use them for our sling-shots.
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That is such a wonderful childhood memory… something about trains always brings a smile! Thanks so much for sharing 🙂
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my pleasure – there are so many memories in this post that others have shared.
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Perfect! 😀
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Thanks a lot Sanaa 🙂
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Ha. We used to count the cars when we were stopped at a railroad crossing.
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Impossible not to!! Thanks for stopping by 🙂
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Ah.. to count the chains of train way
for nothing more than existing
well now.. is a meditation of
trains.. and perhaps
awakening
trains
of thought
in mind and
body balance..:)
LikeLike
So true Katie.. can never resist counting carriages when a train rushes past.. some leftovers from childhood I suppose..and just like you said..they unleash new trains of thought..thanks so much for stopping at this station for a while 🙂
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Very nice.
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Thanks so much 🙂
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It really spoke to me. Pictured myself on that hill. Lovely.
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Thank you 🙂
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i like this very much
Thank You for sharing
Best Wishes
john
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Thanks John. Glad you liked it.
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