If you’re interested in the house, see our FOR SALE page.  Otherwise, read on for another entry.

While in South Carolina last week, we stayed in an 18th century farmhouse not far from a railway.  Each time we heard the train horn sound from afar, we’d abandon whatever we were doing and race down to the tracks to see the train pass by.  And each time we reached the road in time to see the train already going by.  While Erick was in North Carolina and the girls and I were alone at the house, enjoying some playtime on the front porch, we heard the train coming from another direction.  The horn sounded in the distance and my oldest remarked, “The train!  Let’s go.”

I paused to listen, “No,” but as the horn sounded again, I felt my pulse quicken and I stood suddenly contradicting, “Let’s go!”  We ran at full tilt down the drive and onto the road, down the hill until we reached the raised beds of the tracks and could hear the rumble of the engine just around the bend.

“It’s coming around, look!” I shouted to the girls as we watched the black engine snake its way through the thick evergreens laden with vines.  The lights flashed and the earth began to tremble.  The horn sounded and we backed up against the embankment.  I began to have second thoughts about the noise, but I was too excited to abandon our endeavor.  The girls shouts were barely audible as the engine passed and roared its horn, an engineer waved and tooted the horn twice.  We waved and laughed aloud and jumped up and down with the thrill of it.

ROAR went the metal on metal and CLICK-CLICK, CLICK-CLICK skated the heavy cars over the rails.  I felt a surge of emotion as I watched cars carrying the very seeds of industry pass on their way to becoming buildings or fuel or vehicles for the soldiers in Iraq.  The earth bounced and stones hopped at our feet.  It was like the very hand of God reached down and smacked the red earth.

When it passed, I ran to the track and laid my hands down over the rails, but they were as still and cool as if the train had never passed.  They were unmoved by our excitement, but it hardly mattered as we skipped home, yelling, “We saw the train!”

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