Since I was a small child, I have always loved the gentle rock, sway, and whistle of the train. It has always been my favorite mode of travel. Hand in hand, my brother and I boarded the train together with our mom. We would travel back and forth from our small country town to visit our grandma in the exciting metropolis of New York City.

From the first slow turn of the train wheels, as it pulled away from the station, I always had a feeling of both excitement and tranquility at the very same time. As the train sped along the miles of weathered steel tracks, I loved passing through one quaint little town after another, every village with its own unique personality. As we traveled at night, especially in the summer, my brother and I would press our faces against the cool windows. We hoped to catch a quick glimpse of muted lights dotted throughout the trees, hiding night creatures with batting eyes and the rhythmic flashing of lightning bugs. Such an incredible sight!

When we’d finally reach grandma’s bustling city, there were never-ending lights standing next to those tall buildings that reminded me of giant matchboxes. The activity along both sides of the tracks as we pulled into the train station was eye-batting.

Riding the rails has always been and still is a thrill for me. I imagine that time travel must be like this. To this day, I love riding the train as much as I did when I was a kid. Like the calm and peace of my youthful small-town life, riding the rails continues to give me a sense of adventure and contentment that is immeasurable and unforgettable.