Mr. Train Man

We live basically on an intersecting corner of a comparatively quiet street and one of the main streets of this town. I say basically because our street is kind of weird and no one lives on the actual corner. But we're pretty close. 

Parallel to the busy street is a train track. We generally count on seeing - or, more accurately, hearing - one or two trains each day. Though she doesn't care as much about it now, Livie used to be a big fan of running to the window to watch the train go by whenever she heard the whistle.

Where that bus is driving is the busy street I was telling you about. These photos were taken from my living room window.

Most of the time, things are pretty unpredictable around our street and intersection. We can't predict the obnoxious drivers going too fast or revving their engines or when a semi will drive by or we'll hear people honking at each other. However, the trains are relatively predictable. Every afternoon/early evening, a train would go by. Every single day. But you know my favorite part of that little predictability? Our Train Man.

You can't see the Train Man in these photos {I thought that might be a little rude} but you can see how close the train tracks are to my house.

Mr. Train Man would ride his bicycle past our house, across our busy intersection and over to the train tracks every single day. We could count on it almost like clock work. It didn't matter how cold or hot it was out, he was there. Wearing his Letterman-style jacket and over sized ancient headphones, he would ride his bicycle around and around the track until a train came and then he would leave. Sometimes he'd wait for hours before that train came by. He is one patient man, I tell you, to wait as long as he has before. One time when he came to check out his train, we heard him singing, at the top of his lungs, along to some show tunes from Westside Story. I gather that's what he was listening to that day on those ancient headphones.

But you know what? I haven't seen our train man for awhile. His predictability is now less than predictable and it almost makes me sad that we never see him anymore. Every time I saw him I would smile. Something about the predictability and mystery just brought a smile to my face. I took to calling him the Train Man. We still have no idea why he came every day. Maybe he has a fascination with trains and just had to be close-by when it came. Maybe he worked for the train company and was always there to check on the train {we seriously doubt this hypothesis}. Maybe he was just really bored and could think of nothing better to do. Whatever the case may be, watching him wait for his train was something we enjoyed.