Train

Photographed by Robert George

Portland, OR - 2012

I want to write an entry here, but cannot come up with what to say. Does anyone truly care to read the stream of thoughts which come out of my brain via my fingertips on my keyboard? Is my current experience a thing anyone would like to know - to hear of the vastness of water surrounded by trees and little houses which I see as I look out the moving plane of glass of my window on my ride on Amtrak from Portland to Seattle. Would you like to know of the tepid and bitter cup of coffee which warms my throat, and my consideration of listening to Manu Chau on the radio rather than the mild chattering of people on the dining car and the squealing of the wheels outside. I am facing backwards and watch where I come from fade away in an ever smaller portion of what I can see. I can crane my head to the right and see a glimpse of the view which is yet to come, but that which is most recently past is clearest of all. I often enjoy riding backwards in the trail.  I also frequently muse upon the past and am of the belief that I cannot truly see well into my future even if I may try. I take caution and plan for the future, knowing I may not be able to anticipate what she will bring, and want to be okay with anything which morphs from future to present. Most importantly, I live in the now because this is the time we feel with greatest detail and still hold some power over.