I opened my curtains this morning and sort of gushed at the view. Like a wet blanket.
I don't much care though, you should have seen it. The sun was the milky pinky-orange colour of a runny egg yolk that was dripping over the skyline. Some of it had even landed onto the trees, onto the hills, onto the rooftops of the three-floored houses. The sky seemed to have forgotten that yesterday it was the drizzly, misty, eerie reflection of something you might see in the art of Lowry. Today it was pale and bright, and more significantly, blue.
And then there was the best part of all. In the distance, almost clinging to the thick trees on the hills, is the train track. A train was just sailing past, preparing to come to a stop in the station. Ready for its passengers to alight. For more to board. For the trolley-bearing woman to find somewhere awkward to stand while these events ensued.
That's the benefit of having this view on a morning, on an afternoon, on a night. Somehow having this train going past this morning made it perfect, and that's because a train always seems to take me into a moment. A moment that's past, a moment that's yet to come.
Seeing a train transporting others seems to transport me to a time and a place that is other than the present. I'm near York, I'm eating a sandwich, I'm looking out the window thinking of home. I'm in Scotland, I'm debating pedagogy with a stranger with a cheery smile. I'm somewhere between Manchester and Liverpool and I know someone who's bought a double chocolate chip muffin with my name on it.
So I can't help but think, whenever I see these trains go past, who's on board, where have they come from, what are they doing? I try to imagine. We will shortly be arriving in Durham. Durham is our next station stop. If you are alighting at Durham, please do not forget to take your personal belongings with you. Mind the gap between the train and the platform edge.
So, when it's 6.10am on a wet Monday morning, when the view that meets my eye as I pull back the curtain isn't worthy of any note, I'll always be pleased to see a train going past. And it will always get me thinking...
"Who the blimey O'Reilly is on a train at this time of the morning?"
