Ok . my mind has started rambling to back then again. Tonight it went back to when I was very young and sitting on my grandmothers front porch. She lived up on a hill overlooking much of Roseann. The old coal tipple and the railroad that came up by the tipple and the trains. Not the diesel trains but the coal locomotives. In late evening when darkness fell I would watch the lights come on one by one and hear everything begin to quieten down. Hear the train blow its whistle somewhere in the distance and know soon it would chug chug across the old trestle and come up the tracks to the tipple to pick up the loaded coal cars and drop off the empties. Watch the cars become fewer as they traveled as the clock ticked away the time. People going home or to work until eventually there were none. Then I would watch the lights in the houses blink out one by one and the sounds of the night were more audible, The crickets and the quick flutter of a bat. The sound of my grandmothers rocking chair creaking with her gentle push .And the smells of the ever present slag burning the smoke would hang in the air. Some things one never forgets no matter how far you may travel away from them. I for one will cherish those quiet moments for they tell me of a time when I had no worries and only dreamed.
Posted on: Thu, 16 Oct 2014 02:18:06 +0000
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