Trains
I enjoy looking at miniature train stations, but not because I find them interesting. What is interesting is the people that love them. The old men that spend countless hours in detail perfecting the trains, wearing overalls and conductor caps. They show up early on Saturday mornings playing the part, constantly tweaking their mechanical paradise. The children (who are usually the smallest in the room) find themselves towering like giants over villages and towns. They watch and observe in reverent awe over the surreal world beneath them…a world that is usually above them. There is always laughter and amazement, but the most delightful sound is the silence. Lips are quiet around the little villages because people are thrown instantly into a dreamy state. Suddenly we are gods looking over the unsuspecting world…watching their trains and their stations and their towns and their lives move with an existential automated precision.
My Dad loved model trains. I remember that my mom had a special mount built (it was almost the full length of a wall in our house) and you could pull it down to reveal the model train world that he had built. I don’t know why he loved trains…but I loved that train station because I knew he’d touched it and put it together and fixed all the broken parts…and gotten some kind of fun and joy out of it. When I watched it run circles I could almost hear him and see him and feel his deep laughter behind me…at least that’s what I imagine he sounded like. I really loved that train.
I’m pretty sure he donned neither cap nor overalls, though. Pretty sure.
ah, trains.
the local news just did a story on all these “conductor” men last night. i got mad/sad b/c the three men who were behind the desk were snide and disrespectful of the story, the play conductors.
love your last sentences. you use the word surreal. the Surrealists loved trains; i do too.
ask you wife if she still has the Beerbohm article, or email and i’ll send it to you, too. One day after re-reading that article I found this captivating photoof the station mentioned in that old article. (i am forever obsessed with the light play in the photograph, how it contrasts with the heavy, dark, earthbound chunk of metal.)
of course that beautiful station has been torn down by now—another inevitable train reference to the passage of time. think House of Seven Gables. here’s another train, Time Transfixed. i’ve seen this one in person and the subject of it still stings my heart. i even have a pair of earrings i designed to remind me of the passage of time. sometimes they tic-toc playfully, other times they are morose reminders. (i swear to you this is not a shameless plug to sell earrings. the earrings are evidence to the fact that i’ve given time/trains much thought.)
so yeah. trains. thanks for sharing, and for sheltering those who love them—no matter what their reasons.
melanie,
don’t ever hesitate to plug your jewelry on anything of mine. in fact, last week i had your website(www.pearlprice.com) tattood across my forehead. thank you for sharing. the train picture was beautiful. it’s hard to see such beautiful things pass, but they must i suppose. trains…such an interesting world.
lindsey, thank you for sharing. it touched me. the next time i visit a model station I will remember your father and smile. I can’t wait. I will think of him and I will think of you.