Few days after Thanksgiving I dropped son off at train station for him to make his way back to work some six hours north. We’ve had the pleasure of A fair amount of travel by rail and find it much the most enjoyable means by which to get from A to B. You can move about, see the countryside, converse face to face, and get a neat nights sleep on longer journeys. No TSA.
Depot is about forty-five minutes from our home and as per usual I used the time to share nuggets of my accumulated wisdom. I could tell it was well received because son’s eyes were closed in concentration. We hugged, I watched him board, and the bullet quickly departed on schedule having only stopped for ten or so minutes.
Wife knew of some sort of special repository in the vicinity and asked for me to find it and bring a load of stuff home. I followed GPS to where I’d asked it to take me, but found that of the two related locations, I’d made the wrong choice. Called the place and found that I was close and that the crow’s path would take me by the rail yard you see above. It is huge.
In no hurry I stopped to survey the scene. While so doing, for some reason, my mind went back to the advice I’d shared with son. I remember thinking first that, like most of the time I hold forth, I should pay more attention to myself. And then, while recalling the wizened faces of elders telling me how best to negotiate life’s labyrinth, realized that back then I figured that the nature of my consciousness would be different by this ripe old age than is in fact my experience of it.
Thought I’d know more, feel like a sage.