THINGS ON A TRAIN

one.. carnation, on each table. the kind voice over the speakers telling us that unless we are a group of four people, we will be eating dinner at the same table with strangers, so be ready to open up, share a meal, and get to know one another. marriage advice from our dinner date, a retiree named mary who sits across the table with a big smile and a river of words from her mouth. communication is the secret, in case you were curious, and i agree and now feel bound to pass her advice along. that night she sleeps across the rows, dreaming of meeting her grandson in the morning.none.. no wifi, no connection, instead endless connection inwards through our hearts and outwards through the window at the moving landscape.endless.. towns with names i do not know and will never visit. cars and trucks stopped at endless rail crossings as we pass by, one after another. stories, conversations. kleenex (dave has a cold). the comforting clickety clack of the wheels on the rails all through the night.a number i do not know.. people on this train. who chooses to take a train, eighteen hours to the first major stop, overnight, no wifi, bunk beds. a convergence of strangers we are, in this moving little city, carrying us all across the country. we are all in this together, reads the top of a brochure in our sleeper cabin.i like train rides.out our window, somewhere in between Chicago and Denver on our road trip across America, seeing people + telling their stories, November 2012