Of wind, the waves and train travel

Aboard 12:45 Empire Line (last stop Albany, mine Hudson)

All the way up the Hudson's run brown, slashed with whitecaps. (Surmise: river's taken this less-traveled mid-week day to attend to its own business of churning, too few passers-by the get blue and pretty for.)

Now, as the train stops just out of Rhinecliff (near empty and compartment sad quiet now that the ladies doing crosswords aloud have disembarked), it starts to snow.

More aware these days of my luck, to have this split city/country life. I travel weekly and so anticipate train trips as a matter of course. I still feel a pull back towards whichever habitat I've just left. But it passes and my attentions are amplified like a tourist's in the new one.

Like hurdling to and fro between plots across a fence - before one side's hinted at losing luster - BAM – I'm on the other.

Encased in the gray-brown world of this Wednesday's Hudson landscape, en route home to country portion of my week, I miss the city a little in this in-between stage. It's fresher and I wonder at the parochialness of what I see. To other passengers, thinly, discreetly scattered through the train, I think:
“City for the whole week: too much for you?"

C - waiting for own stop.