Pappy's Train Chase

 Pappy was standing at the checkout counter at the library when he heard the whistle. He had been at his book club meeting and had picked up a couple books to take home with him.

    While he waited, a mother took her son out to watch the train go by. Pappy was imagining that the train would be gone by the time he got outside. Finally the librarian gave him his books and he was able to leave. The boy and his mother were coming back in and both of them had big smiles on their faces. When Pappy got outside, all he could see was the very end of the train disappearing as it rode away.

    In his car, Pappy followed the train. Being careful as he drove, he watched the railroad tracks, watching for the train. The road was right beside the tracks, but he couldn’t see the train.

    Coming to a stop sign, he waited for a couple cars in front of him to go. When it was his turn, he heard the whistle again! He couldn’t see the train, but he knew it wasn’t far away.

    He finally caught up with it. It wasn’t moving very quickly. It was a short train with two engines in the front, a boxcar, seven hoppers and a third engine at the end.

    He came to a spot where he could pull over and got out of the car and watched as the train went by. The engines were painted purple with yellow stripes. Even though the train was going slowly, it was LOUD!  From where he was standing, he was able to look down at the train. The river could be seen behind the train. He got back in his car and drove a bit further down the road.

    He stopped at another spot and watched it passed by. The engineer waved when he saw Pappy.

    The road was a long one and he easily passed the train again. Coming to a crossing, Pappy pulled over to wait for the train.  This time, since he was at a crossing, he heard the trains whistle. The engines were loud, but the whistle was even LOUDER!

    The engineer waved again and smiled as the train rumbled past. The engineer was probably happy since Pappy was standing well away from the railroad tracks. It can be dangerous standing too close to the rails!

    Pappy watched the train get smaller as it continued down the tracks. He got back in his car and headed for home. As he drove, he thought about his morning and smiled. He had spent some time with his friends talking about books, he had brought a couple books home with him and, he had chased a train.

    He hoped that he had gotten a couple good pictures but even if he hadn’t, he had enjoyed watching the train go by. Maybe he’d send the pictures to his grandsons, Mateo and Nico!

    Pappy was happy, what a great way to start his day!

Rainy Day

Sitting in a small coffee shop, I look out of the window and watch as the traffic goes by. Thinking as the cars speed by, it seemed as if I’ve been doing this a lot, staring out the window.  So much of the day has spent doing this as compared to going outside and breathing in the fresh air. The weather tends to enforce this, the driving rain just isn’t inviting.

    It is another typical grey Pittsburgh day. The promise of rain came true, it has arrived. “Dismal” could be used to describe the day. There are no bright colors, nothing shines. Even the hoods and sides of the cars appeared muted.

    It is hard to be optimistic on days such as this. The chores around the house had been finished, a prescription still needs to be picked up at the local pharmacy and after that, the days plans will be completed.

    A fresh urn of coffee is being brewed, that is something worth looking forward to! A donut sits in a brown paper bag on the table. Decisions, decisions, should I wait for the coffee or just dig in, that is the question. I chose to wait for the coffee and continue to stare out the window and think.

    Looking at the uninspiring parking lot, the rain increases to a downpour. Going out to the car will involve getting drenched. The view from the window is a perfect spot to wait it out. Especially since a fresh cup of coffee is now in my hand.

    I had the idea that I would go out in search for some photos. A grey day didn’t mean that there wasn’t anything worth taking a picture of. The opportunities are endless no matter what the weather might present.

    Halfway through my cup of coffee the rain tapers off a bit, enough that I can make the “run” to the car. Back on the road, people in a hurry speed past me, their tires splashing my windshield and obscuring my view. The rains intensified again as I slowly make my way towards my pharmacy and then my nice, dry house.

    Thinking about photography, I realized that the only way I’d get any pictures today would involve getting very wet in the process. Still…the shots are always there, constantly changing as the day progresses and the weather changes. They are there; I just have to SEE them, I just have to get a little wet.

    The rain tapers off a bit so I take a short drive to a favored spot. Wildlife occasionally show themselves here, perhaps something will today.

    The rain has slowed to a mist, so I get out and take a short walk. I take a few pictures but nothing excites me. The rain increases again and I return to the car with nothing of importance stored in the camera.

    Then, it’s back to the quiet solitude of my home. A fresh cup of home brewed coffee, a partially read book to read and then, maybe a few more minutes of staring out the window…thinking about the pictures I could’ve gotten.

Maps on (In) the Mind

 Whenever there is the possibility of a trip approaching, I tend to go to my paper resources, my maps. Rather than allowing a computer to generate a route for me, I prefer to look over the area between the two basic points, the beginning and end, and then decide on a route myself. These directions are often determined by roads that I’ve never seen or driven on.

    What-ever prerequisites I have, a map is almost always employed. Many times it won’t even be a physical map but one of the many stored in my memory.

    Thinking about going from one known spot to another will bring to mind landmarks seen on previous trips. Things which have lodged in my memory, perhaps by their uniqueness, their photographic potential, their history or even geocaches which might be hidden near-by.

    Names of people and towns often slip through my grey matter like water between pebbles, here one minute and gone the next. I envy people with good memories. Thankfully, the maps in my mind have remained…so far.

    I picture maps as so much more than just paper directions. I see them in many of the things we do daily.

    The recipe for my Scalloped Potatoes is a map which takes me from the shelves in my pantry to the kitchen and finally to my dining room table. The readings at Church are maps that hopefully take me safely through the journey of my life, helping me avoid the wrong turns which are so easily taken. The discussions I have with my doctors and my banker are directions given, maps showing me the correct way to go. The plans we make are maps to our futures.

    I can’t help but think that the books I read are also maps. Time after time, they lead me to other books, places and activities. Many of the books I’ve read were originally mentioned in other books I had read.

    In the same case, I feel as if much of my reading is connected. I can’t count the number of times I read something; a place, an activity or a person and then read about it or them in another book I pick up. In some way or another, all the books I read have a connection, there is an invisible map that I occasionally see, but yet I am always looking for.

    When I mark down my chores at the beginning of the day which need completed, I am making a map for the day. My list of planned observations when I go out with my telescope is an atlas for my evening. My grocery list is a map; it is organized by how I will walk through the store. It becomes a set plan with minor deviations. I can picture where I’ll be walking in the store as I write down what I need. The list tends to shorten my visits; I wander less and minimize time searching, not to mention doing less “in the moment” buying.

    The objects we see in daily life can be maps also, directing us to spots in our memory banks. Looking at the Peonies in the garden in my front yard takes me on a short trip to the memories of my father who planted them 50 or 60 years ago. The Trillium plant in the back yard does the same thing. I open up my old Joy of Cooking cookbook and the stains, spots and wrinkled pages take me right to my mother, standing in front of the stove, her apron protecting her clothes, cooking meals for us. This is a book I’ll never get rid of, a map book to my feelings!

    The pictures I take are maps also. When viewed in order, they show the progress of our trips, reproducing the routes we took. Pictures, like books, can mean different things to different people; I can only hope that my pictures will take them to good places. Some pictures are made to make a point, they are maps made to bring people to a certain realization. We (the photographers) keep our fingers crossed that they will arrive at the place we wanted to take them!

    Maps, like pictures can pull us into the past, showing us what once was, helping us to remember the ways things used to be. Old maps can be helpful in finding places where things have disappeared. I use maps to find the ruins of old buildings, ones that were torn down decades ago. Those old pieces of paper, worn at the creases, direct me to where mills once stood, producing iron for a growing nation, or to where canals used to be, ferrying passengers and produce across the states. With their help I can envision what used to stand in the empty fields I find.

    As I was thinking about writing this, I wrote down some notes. Thinking about it, they are a map also. I made them to help me write this. Hopefully that map will get me to my final destination! (the next and last paragraph)

    Our world is filled with maps that we see daily but fail to realize that they are there, helping us in our daily lives. Modern technology has provided us all with maps, as close as our phones. Even if they are spoken, (“Turn left at the next intersection in 100 yards…”) they are still maps.

 Maps, I can’t help but see them everywhere!