Sunday Night Thoughts

just finished watching The Station Agent. i didn’t think it was phenomenal, but i enjoyed it for its simplicity. as i listened to the sound of a train rushing by during one of the scenes, i was flooded with the memory of my grandmother’s house. she lived a block away from a regularly used railroad track in Wyandotte, MI. i stayed with her for a time and my room was upstairs with a window facing the tracks. i never minded the noise of the train. i actually really liked it. i found it to be comforting, just the idea that trains still existed and ran throughout the night. they are relatively low-tech and perhaps for me romanticized from reading too much Ayn Rand. the sound of the harmonic horns and the humming and slight buzzing of the house as the train rushed by. i would lay in bed surrounded by the memories of my mother as a girl in that very room. the familiar sounds and comfort of her house would wrap around me like a summer blanket. at different times in my life, i have been plagued by insomnia. as soon as darkness arrived, my mind would race and the remedy would be to write all night, to drive .. to sit in the windowsill and stare out at the sky. i could always fall right asleep at my grandmother’s house.

when i moved, the difficulty in sleeping returned. i resumed my late night ventures. that is, until i met Mark. and once again (for the last 7 years) i’ve effortlessly melted into dreams each night.