Lolling, rolling glide:
Autumn trees and lush green fields
Slide past my window.
The lolling and sometimes lurching glide of the train surprised me. What I had expected, I do not know, but the
motion was much different than the highway zipping along under my car tires.
I settled
in, amazed at the abundant leg room and all the empty seats. From the first day I planned to take Amtrak,
I imagined myself strolling down the aisle to stretch my legs, wandering over
to the dining car, exploring the train.
Suddenly I felt glued to my seat:
despite my claims to seek adventure, I really am a stationary person
after all. I had everything I needed
with me in my carry-on bags: water,
food, Kindle, journal, and cross stitch.
After miles
of country scenery and brief station stops, Nature beckoned me. My sense of balance on a moving train, I
learned, was none too good. Lurching
instead of strolling down the aisle, I managed to reach the narrow stairs to
the first level. The moment my feet hit
the hallway to the restrooms, my stomach did a U-turn. As I shut myself into the tiny, cramped space
highly reminiscent of airplane restrooms, gastrointestinal somersaults
ensued. Hastily, I did my business and
staggered back down the short aisle to the stairs. It was time to eat another ginger chew and
apply more drops of the anti-nausea essential oil behind my ears.
Lavender oil, ginger chews
soothe my sensitive stomach.
Dull headache lingers underneath
Lulled to slumber by the train’s lullaby.
However, from
previous experiences in the back of family vans, I knew not to nap long or deeply,
for that would yield violent motion sickness.
The hours passed by with me gazing out the window, drinking water,
and nibbling on nut mix. I did not want
to miss a minute of Oklahoma or Texas countryside.
Scattered cattle graze
the green field;
Lone eagle sits on furrow,
gazes all around.
The train
station in Fort Worth was another matter.
Though it was clean with plenty of open space inside and out, there was
only a lone Subway restaurant and beautiful but uncomfortable benches. Lugging my luggage around to explore was not
an option my arms would allow. So I ate
a meal, walked a few circles in the terminal, sat, and played solitaire on my Kindle. My layover on the return trip was over three
hours, and the station was quite crowded.
Two panhandlers approached me, and I overheard several endless cell phone conversations in which the speaker on the train station end barely
took a breath.
My Kindle
books, my journal, and my cross stitch remained untouched.
When the announcement for the Heartland Flyer sounded over the intercom,
I gladly made my way to the train with the crowd. By the next stop, the sun set, and the train
lurched and rolled its way into Oklahoma under cover of the night sky.
