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Oh, hand me down my riding cane, I'm off to meet my darling Jane
For the first time in nineteen months, I am on a train. It is the Amtrak Regional, pulling out of South Station in the mid-morning light that makes rusted rails and gravel ballast and the under-angles of concrete overpasses look like sandstone. The trees as they start to gather outside the city are strong summer green a few days off the solstice, all the old industrial buildings are the tilt-shift miniatures of red brick and graffiti sliding away at angles to the tracks and I am in the presence of the densest number of people I have experienced since I had to walk into a hospital last summer. Technically I am in the quiet car, but my neighbor across the aisle keeps leaning over to talk to me, as if we were in a study hour at school. Perhaps she hasn't been around other humans in nineteen months, either. We are all slightly feral. Soon there will be salt marshes and the sea that I have seen far too little of, the Atlantic of the Northeast Corridor. In more hours than I really care to think about, there will be my godchild and their parents and their house which I have met only through the talkie window. At some point I assume my anxiety at the immediate press of people will recede and I'll pass out per usual and wake up superfluously at New Haven. What a weird thing it is to move around in the world.
[edit 2021-06-18 11:05:00] Atlantic achieved.
[edit 2021-06-18 11:05:00] Atlantic achieved.
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Thank you! It was, actually. I dozed through New Haven and woke up for real at New York.