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  • Writer's pictureNemi

The Train To...

The holiday season is behind us and a new year has officially kicked off, for us all. It's within these times, people are moving to and fro, attempting to visit family, friends, etc. I'm unsure what drew me here, if it was the rainbow which sat above City Hall, with the promise of gold on the other side of the tracks, or if it was my want to see people greeting loved ones as they exited the train? In all honesty, the adage of gold being at the end of a rainbow is true; the pot of gold that I found, on this day, isn't the variety which could be spent on clothes, jewelry, or other material items, instead I was provided gold for my soul.

I hadn't gone to bed, the night before thinking that I would awake and push myself to venture out of my warm house, out into the cold, the rain. There has been something missing within my days, for some time, and that thing has been my camera, mixed with a sprinkle of creativity. It wasn't too long ago when I would walk around town and capture pictures in order to upload them to Instagram for a few followers to like or comment. The algorithm for both the site and my person has changed and I'm unsure if there will be a return to normalcy for either. So here I am, a nomad, within this world of art. Should I take my photography seriously or should I remain hidden behind my viewfinder? Meh... no one will ever notice me, standing here, capturing people breaking the stand behind the line rule.

There are rules to these places, rules to how close we can be to the tracks, close to the people, close to the pavement, close to the realization that some are waiting to board and some are coming home. Did I mention the rain?

I exited my vehicle in order to see when the train was arriving. The rain seemed to wait for me to poke my head out of my car, in order to let me know that I was dressed the part to endure the way for which it would fall upon my jacket. Of course I was too something to bring an umbrella, I mean who needs an umbrella in the rain. As I stood there waiting, without much covering, I listened to how the droplets hit the pavement, the puddles, the tracks. There was a method for how everything worked together, it was slow and purposeful; after the downpour came the people.

In the hope of not being identified as a perpetual "over the line stepper", I moved like a wave which moves close to the shore and then retreats back to sea. I stayed behind the line which stretched for as far as my eyes could see. IF I'm being truthful, guys like me, die first in all the movies and I didn't want some deranged looney person to get a running start at me whilst my back was to them. I know, I know, all the randomness that flows through my head! Sue me, I'll give you the .50 cents to my name, now.

I could hear the train approaching from a distance. To be fair, its arrival was being broadcast as well, so I slowly prepared my eyes for what was to come. For me, throughout all of my travels, there has only ever been one time in which someone was waiting to hug me, kiss me, tell me that they'd missed me during my time away/abroad. It's these moments which cause my world to stand still and take note of all that's taking place around me. I want to feel/see the movie scenes firsthand.

Much like the retreating wave, I too retreated from the platform and onto a perch not far from the tracks. I've learned to blend in, at least in my mind I was blending in amidst all of the chaos which was set to ensue. The last time I was on this track with camera was close to four year ago, it seems. It seems like an eternity since I've been an observer. Unlike an airport, this area was open space, which anyone could walk up to and sit and wait for their person or persons. Today, it was me simply waiting for a moment to find more gold within my day.

To my dismay there weren't any interactions that I could capture, between people in love or liking. The two couples departing, did so in a way that was very anti love in many ways. Perhaps they were professionals at saying, "Goodbye", then again, maybe they were not clingy.

The hopeless romantic in me wished for someone to run up to their partner, greeting them with an embrace which demonstrated a longing for each other. Meeeeh... maybe I'm the clingy one, the one who wishes for airport hugs and tender train kisses. Somewhere, I hear my friend labeling me a hopeful romantic.

Alas, this isn't about me, it's about THE TRAIN TO...

Only they know where

(All pictures are my own)

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