Henry David Thoreau wrote wistfully of the sounds of trains from the railroad that passed near his house on Walden Pond. He knew the men who worked on it, and its daily whistle was a reminder that civilization is not far away. The sight and sound of the train was a part of his daily rhythm, like the sunrise, he wrote. I too sometimes romanticize the rumble of the trains near my house, a reminder of the world’s commerce passing through our town, and I wonder if I’ll even miss the horns when, after rail consolidation, they quiet down or disappear in a few years. Just then a noisy car revs up its decibels for a pretend drag race, or a pickup roars by for us to notice its masculinity. So charming. I suppose even when the train blasts are gone, I’ll still have sounds to remind me that what passes for civilization these days is not far away. –Fletcher Farrar, editor
This article appears in Renovation revelations.
